Inside

by Kyra Anderson

  Jack placed his hand against Mark’s chest, holding him still as he pushed the end of the instrument into the bullet wound. Mark flinched, but his high pain tolerance allowed him to remain still as Jack tried to find the bullet. When Mark nodded once tightly, Jack carefully removed the bullet, sending it to the side and letting out a long breath that he had been holding.

  “Okay,” Jack said. “Let’s try to get you stitched up.”

  While Jack wiped away the blood from the torn tissue, dabbed antiseptic around the wound, and placed leaned gauze against the wound to keep it from bleeding further, I studied the man who had suddenly decided to help us.

  It was still difficult for me to believe that Jack was a cowboy. His short, thin frame did not did not lend itself to manual labor, and his voice was higher pitch, not the low timber that I generally heard from rural working men. He also did not immediately recoil when I said that we were part of the Central Angels, which made me wonder if he had something to hide from the Commission as well. Perhaps the reason he did not want us there was because he did not want to Commission looking further into his own life.

  “Do you run this ranch all by yourself?” I asked, trying to fill the silence.

  “No,” he said. “Well, yes, I suppose I do. But this is my folk’s place.”

  “Oh…and you help them run it?”

  “Yeah…” he said, his eyes still fixed on the wound he was closing in Mark’s chest. “Grew up in the life, so it was easy for me to take over when they could no longer keep up with it.”

  “Just you?”

  Jack glanced at me once, before turning his attention back to his task. “Well, not too long ago my older brother and sister were also here. But my brother went off to join the military, and my sister decided that she’d rather compete in bigger circuit rodeos, so she’s on the road all the time.”

  “Must be a lot of work by yourself,” I muttered.

  Jack nodded, but did not elaborate.

  Once again, silence took over the small, dark office. I glanced at the dusty trophies, metals, and ribbons, as well as old pictures of the family competing both with horses and cattle. Everything in the room was covered in a thick layer of dust, the only thing disturbed being the shelve that held the medical supplies for the animals.

  “So, those are okay to use on humans?” I asked.

  “Most of them,” Jack answered. “Some of them are pretty potent, but they’ll definitely do the job here.”

  “You say that like you’ve treated bullet wounds before,” I tried to joke.

  “I’ve had to stitch up cows and horses that get wounded from stupid kids shooting them with BB guns,” he explained. I’ve never done it on a human, but I’m trying not to think about that.” He let out a nervous laugh, which showed a different side of him. He looked younger, somehow lighter, as though the world was not resting on the shoulders.

  “Well, hopefully no more people will stumble into your barn with gunshot wounds,” I continued to try and make light of the situation.

  “A little bit more practice, and I can be a doctor,” Jack said, joking along.

  I was relieved that he seemed more at ease with us, and spared a glance at Mark to see how he was faring. He had fallen asleep, his breath even and slow and a little shallow, his face still pale. But he seemed comfortable, even with all the talking around him

  Jack caught like gazing, looking between us before clearing his throat.

  “So…are you two…”

  “We’re family,” I answered his question. “He’s my protector…my big brother, in a sense.”

  “And you said you’ve lost other people? Other family?”

  In an instant, I could almost hear Clark begging to be killed rather than taking into the Commission. I could hear the Sweep team shouting that they had found Jeff’s dead body. I could see Jessica’s limp body on the ground among the gravestones. A million more images flashed in my mind—Tara writhing in pain and breaking her own arm as she tried to fight the contraction of her muscles, Josh slowly bleeding out in the middle of the bunker while Mark held him, Mikal surrounded by blood with a gun in his hand, finally taking the step to end his own pain…

  “Oh my God…”

  I blinked, broken out of my stupor. The tears were flowing down my face once more, which made it hard to focus on Jack’s face in front of me. His entire expression had changed once again. His eyes were large and full of deep concern as he looked over my pained expression. He reached out, gently taking my hand.

  “It’s all right,” he whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it. I’m sorry I asked.”

  I pushed the tears off of my face with my other hand, shaking my head.

  “It has been a rough few months,” I said, sniffing. I looked over Mark’s sleeping face, taking a deep breath. “He really is all I have left,” I muttered. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”

  Jack remain silent for a long time, looking over my faces as if trying to gauge my sincerity. I forced my brain not to think about the fact that it was possible I could still lose Mark. There was no way to tell if an infection from his wound, or if another run-in with Dana would cause him to be ripped from my life. I was determined to do everything I could to protect Mark as he had always protected me. We needed to watch out for one another. We really were all the other one had left.

  Jack ended up not saying anything, turning back to wipe around the wound, and pressed down more gauze before taping it tightly over the stitched wound. Once he had finished with the two bullet holes in his chest, he carefully shook Mark’s uninjured shoulder, causing the former experiment to open his eyes, though he was clearly disoriented.

  “I need you to roll over,” Jack said. “If one bullet went through, you have another wound on your back.”

  Both Jack and I helped roll the weakened and injured Mark onto his stomach before working together to pull his arm out of his shirt and jacket so the wound on his back could be treated.

  It was the first time I had really seen any of Mark skin, and the skin on his back was marred with several different scars of very shapes and sizes. Jack also saw them and stared with confusion and concern.

  “Did the Commission do all of this?” he asked, his hand hovering over the scars.

  I shrugged, telling him that I did not know, however the exhausted Mark slowly nodded his head, his eyes slipping shut as he fell asleep once more.

  The look on Jack’s face as he glanced over Mark’s scars one more time was a confusing riddle. I looked at the scars with sadness for what Mark had endured while trapped in the Commission. However, Jack seemed to be nervous looking at the old wounds, which further confirmed my suspicion that Jack had something to hide from the Commission.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, bringing him back to the present.

  Jack turn to me, the horror in his eyes still very clear even as he nodded.

  “Yes,” he said quickly. “Sorry, just surprised.”

  He turned his attention to the open wound, which was smaller than the ones on Mark’s chest. I watched him work diligently, trying to decide if I should ask if Jack was nervous about ever been caught by the Commission of the People.

  “I don’t know what you’ve heard about us,” I started carefully, “but we were not lying about what the Commission of the People does to the people it takes in.”

  Jack’s hand stopped, still pressing gauze over the bleeding hole, as his eyes turning to me.

  He opened his mouth, his eyes averted downward as he thought about what he wanted to say. However, he closed his mouth and turned back to his work. I waited, understanding that he was getting more curious by the second, his mind working around the possibilities of what was true among the news reports that had been playing on the television.

  As he taped over the new gauze, he let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.

  “I’m pretty sure he’s lost a lot of blood,” he mused. “He’ll need to eat something that will help him regain
his strength. I’ll have to do some research on what’s the best thing for him.”

  “Thank you so much for helping him,” I said sincerely. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

  “Yes,” he said, turning to me. “Don’t bring the Commission to my door.”

  I tried not to flinch from the words, though it was impossible. He lowered his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

  “… I was actually rooting for you guys,” he admitted quietly.

  I had no idea what to say in response, so I stared stupidly at him. “But then that winged man attacked Central and killed so many people, and I just thought…it’s the same thing as it’s always been. Nothing would change no matter who won.” He rubbed his bloody hands together, looking over the drying blood before rubbing his palms on his jeans. “The world is never really going to change…no matter how much we think it has…”

  “The winged man who attacked Central was not part of us.”

  “Not sure I know what I should believe anymore.”

  “I know that I can’t convince you that the Central Angels were telling the truth,” I said carefully, “but my family was part of the Commission of the People. I saw what they did to their prisoners first-hand. And they created both of the winged man we had in our group, and the one who attacked Central. They’re manipulating the American people into thinking that they are doing the right thing, but the fact is that they are evil. They’re testing on people, and killing them,” I motioned to Mark. “He is an experiment, too. Why do you think he had such a high pain tolerance is you were showing him shut? That was nothing compared to what he’s already endured.”

  Jack looked down at work, heaving a deep sigh and shaking his head. He stood, glancing at his bloodied hands.

  “I’ll bring you some blankets in a little bit,” he said. “I better wash up and go in for dinner. I’ll bring some out to you after the folks have gone to bed. I think there’s some steak from last night, that might help him.” He said nodding to Mark. “There is a bathroom through that door, but the light doesn’t work. No shower, I’m afraid…we’ll have to think about that tomorrow…”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much. I promise, as soon as he is well enough, we’ll leave. We won’t cause any trouble.”

  “Just don’t leave this office,” he said strongly. “And don’t make too much noise, either. I don’t want the horses to let any nosy neighbors know that there’s something strange going on.”

  I nodded quickly. Jack looked at both of us once more, and then swallowed hard, dropping his head. He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

  “I believe you,” he murmured.

  * *** *

  I stayed awake until Jack returned, sitting next to Mark and holding his hand, though he remained asleep.

  At one point, I started counting seconds between his breaths, making sure that Mark was still breathing strong so I could assure myself he would survive. I knew Mark was extremely durable, and that he had already endured far more pain then he was experiencing with the bullet holes, but I was still terrified that, at some point soon, I would lose him.

  When Jack returned, it was still raining hard outside and he shook off his jacket by the door of the office, putting his plastic-covered hat on the desk. He approached me, extending a paper bag.

  “Here’s what I was able to scrounge up for you,” he said. I opened it quickly, seeing several foil-wrapped items. My stomach gave a hungry growl as a gentle smell wafted to my nose. I grab the first thing in the bag and tore open the foil, turning the half of a baked potato and taking a huge bite out of it as if it were an apple.

  Jack’s eyes were wide as he watched me devour the potato.

  “Looks like you’re going to need some more food…” he noted.

  I had stuffed my mouth so full I almost choked, but I was also too hungry to care about decorum. I sat, chewing the baked potato for a few minutes, taking a deep breath when I finally swallowed all of it.

  “When was the last time you ate?”

  “I’m not sure,” I breathed, pulling out the next piece of wrapped food to find a warm dinner roll with butter oozing out. Once again, I took a big bite, letting out a long breath of relief at the taste of the home-cooked meal.

  “I can go in and get some more if you want,” he offered. “I didn’t realize you were this hungry.”

  “I don’t want to be any more of an inconvenience,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Well, try to save the meat for Mark,” Jack said, nodding to the unconscious figure, who still had not woken even as we talked around him. “Has he just been sleeping?”

  I nodded, still chewing my food. “That says a lot about how much blood he lost,” I mumbled around my chewing. “He’s normally hypervigilant, and we’re talking around him at normal levels, but he still hasn’t woken up.”

  Jack sat on the bed and pressed the back of his hand to Mark’s face, causing the experiment to jump, his eyes fluttering open for a brief second before he fell asleep once more. Jack hesitated a moment before pressing his hand to Mark’s face once more.

  “He’s burning up,” he muttered. He walked to the desk, opening two of the drawers until he found a bottle of pain relieving pills, opening them and taking out two. He passed them to me.

  “The moment he wakes up, make sure he takes these,” Jack said. “They’ll help with his fever.”

  I took the pills, looking up at Jack with a small smile.

  “Thank you again.”

  Jack set the bottle of pain relievers on the desk and rolled the squeaking office chair closer to the bed, sitting on it backwards and folding his arms over the back, resting his chin on his hands as he looked everywhere but at me.

  “I’m sorry for what I said earlier…” he said.

  “What did you say?”

  “That I didn’t like the idea of you being here.”

  “It’s okay,” I assured. “Believe me, I understand. If I were in your position, I’m not sure I’d want to have fugitives on my property, either.”

  “I really did believe that you guys were going to change things in the Commission.”

  “Why are you so against the Commission?” I asked quietly.

  Jack’s eyes met mine, their bright blue color conveying honesty and sincerity. “I’m pretty sure I don’t need to say it…” he breathed. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

  “…I wouldn’t say that,” I muttered.

  “Pretty sure everyone in town knows,” he continued. “Pretty sure my mom and dad know, too. And my brother and sister.” Jack closed his eyes, heaving a deep breath. “But, I ignore it.”

  “But you shouldn’t have to,” I insisted.

  “Were we in a different world, I would agree with you,” he said. “But we’re not. And if ignoring it will keep me alive, and keep my family safe from prejudice and ridicule, then so be it.”

  I looked over his small thin frame, wondering how long he had been bearing such a burden on his own.

  “You know…we actually were investigated by the Commission a while ago,” Jack explained. “About four years ago. As I said, I’m pretty sure everybody knows about me and someone tried to report me. But, as they investigated, they couldn’t find any proof, so they dropped it.”

  “You’re very lucky, then…”

  “It’s not luck,” he contradicted. “I don’t know what it is, but I’ve just been able to ignore everything about how I feel and who I really am. And that’s been able to keep me on my family safe. Well, from the Commission, at least.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The others in town, in my opinion, are less forgiving.”

  I waited as he thought about how he wanted to explain.

  “I didn’t really care what people said about me because, even though I knew what I was and that it was unacceptable, I knew that I wasn’t going to do anything that would cause me to be taken into the Commission. However, my si
ster got ridiculed a lot, blamed for raising me to be too girly, or whatever it is everybody else thought of me. Let’s just say that, after a while, my siblings started to say that I should just leave, that I was causing the family too much grief. My parents were blamed for the way I acted, saying that it was only a matter of time before the Commission found a reason to take me, everybody in town tried to keep me out of any activities, worried I would somehow corrupt others…overall, I guess the people acting like that is the reason why the Commission takes people like me. Having me out of the picture keeps the peace…”

  “I wish I could tell you that one day you’ll be able to live the life that you truly want, but I’m worried that, after what we did, there won’t be anybody left to fight for it.”

  Jack pursed his lips, his eyes still averted from mine, thinking.

  “I don’t know…” he said. “Just because you’re not fighting the Commission anymore on a grand scale you were before, doesn’t mean that you’re not still fighting.” I furrowed my brow, not understanding what he meant. “I mean, you’re fleeing.”

  “I’m running away,” I corrected sharply. “I was one of the first to even bring the group the Central Angels together. I helped break people out of the Commission so that we could show the people the horrors that happened there. I was the one who helped organize the marches and the demonstrations of showing why we needed to take down the Commission. And, in the end, they just used that against us…and there was no way that we could prove that we were not the ones who attacked Central.”

  “Fighting does not always mean changing the world,” Jack said seriously. “For me, I fought back by not leaving town, by staying strong in my community, in my house, even knowing that people we’re going to ridicule me. Now, I may not be brave enough to try to fall in love with who I would want to fall in love with, but I’m not about to be driven out of my own town. I’ll fight for that.”

  “…then you’re stronger than I am,” I said. “I’m fleeing across the border.”

  “Well…” Jack said, looking at the sleeping Mark, “you can’t exactly blend in around here.”