The laboratory door is card-locked but ajar. It seems like a trap to me, so I don’t open it any further. Instead, I press my ear to the closed half of the door and listen. Silence. I try peeking in through the crack of the door but don’t see much besides the machines that line the wall. I glance down at one of the limp guards, still holding his gun in his left hand. I pry it out, kick open the ajar door, and stand behind the closed one. Nothing happens. I look around the corner but find no one. The quietness is eerie. I almost step inside of the room until I hear the sound of a gun being cocked. Before I can turn around, the gun fires and I fall to my knees.
“I told you not to get in my way,” says the voice of the man who shot me. Kelton. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
“He’s not in there,” I say in a weak voice. “I don’t know where he is.”
“Did you check the entire room?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Didn’t think so.”
I moan.
“So tell me,” he says. “Why are you trying to stop me from completing your mission? You should be thanking me. You told me that you wanted him dead, that was your mission.”
“I told you I was going to destroy this organization. That doesn’t necessarily mean killing him,” I respond.
“But you know you want to,” he taunts. “You could help me. We would make a great team.”
“You shot me!” I cry.
“You got in my way,” he fires back.
“Teammates don’t shoot teammates,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I offered it to you,” he says. “We weren’t teammates yet.”
“You could have just asked me to move,” I complain. “I’m not a threat to you.”
“You could be.”
“Then you’re just like your father,” I say. “You said so yourself: you wouldn’t be taken down by some little girl.”
He kicks me in the side where I previously took a bullet. “You have some nerve, don’t you?” he retorts.
I curl up into a ball and groan. My side still hurts. I don’t respond.
He leans in close to my face. “Don’t follow me,” he whispers harshly. “Don’t ever get in my way again.”
He marches away from the laboratory, kicking one of the guards to his right, and continues left down the hall. I prop myself up against the wall to examine the wound. It brushed my other side, so now I have almost matching bullet wounds. I touch the infected area but wince as my hand grazes the bullet, tucked just beneath the skin. Blood runs down my side, and I realize I will bleed out if I don’t treat it.
I attempt to stand up, gingerly holding my side so blood won’t trail everywhere. I remember there were cloth pads inside the laboratory used for disinfecting the area where they injected me. They weren’t very big, but I figure it’s the closest thing to medical help I can get.
The lab is dark, ominous. The only source of light comes from a small bulb across the room. I sneak over to the area where the operating table used to be. A small cart with multiple shelves sits next to the empty space. A syringe, the sleep serum, and a few of the cloth pads rest on the top shelf, everything in perfect order. I grab a few of the cloth pads and apply pressure to my grazed hip. The pads are soaked through immediately.
I walk over to another table in search of something that would last longer. One of the white robes that the women wore lies idly across the back of a chair. I rip a piece of cloth from it and tie it around my waist to stop the flow of blood. Part of it gets soaked through, but it should at least help with the flow.
I walk back out to the hall and pry the first gun I see out of a guard’s hand. I position it in front of me and follow the path Kelton took. The corridor is long and dark. Rooms line each side, each door glowing a yellow-blue tone. I don’t believe Chris would be hiding in one of these rooms, but Kelton knows his father more than I do. I check each door handle, and if it’s unlocked, I peek in. Every room I check is empty, except for a few which contain long tables and chairs with wheels. I bypass each room before finding a stairwell that only leads up.
The stairwell leads up two floors and opens into a small business room. The room contains a small table with four chairs circling it. A screen lays flat on the table presenting the Corps’ intricate insignia. I touch the screen and a voice screams from the speakers.
“Welcome, employee,” the monotone recording says. “Please enter your ID number.”
I begin to panic because I don’t have an ID number. My eyes dart around the room as I try to come up with a solution. Then I remember I still have Rowan’s card, so I flip it out and scan the card. I find his number on the top and enter it into the database.
“Welcome, Rowan,” the voice says. “You have no new messages. Would you like to browse the site?”
I click the ‘yes’ button and a series of apps appear. I scroll through the list and click ‘cameras.’ Maybe I’ll be able to find Chris or Kelton this way.
“You have selected ‘cameras.’ Would you like to continue?” the voice asks.
I click ‘yes’ and the app opens, revealing a selection of over five thousand cameras. I spin through the options, pausing every time I see a person. I see a camera labeled ‘Chris’s Office.’ Maybe one of them went back there.
“You have selected ‘Chris’s Office’ camera. This camera requires an ID number to continue. Continue anyway?”
I select ‘yes’ and type in Rowan’s ID number again. I don’t understand, though, why you would need another ID number if you already entered one to get into the system. Another one of the mysteries of the Corps.
The camera enlarges and I can hear everything that is happening in his office, which isn’t much, but I do find Rowan lying on the ground. Blood still pools around him, but I no longer see the rise and fall of his chest. I assume he lost any strength he had left in his arm and was no longer able to hold the ripped curtain over the wound. I hold his card against my heart for a moment and stifle a cry. I didn’t know him that well; he was just the man that saved my life.
I exit out of the camera and continue my search. I find multiple cameras focused on the laboratory. The bodies of the dead guards have been cleared away; I hope the janitor—Gregory—didn’t have to clean the area. I have to add him to the list of people who have saved my life.
Some of the cameras later in the list are turned off. Their room numbers correlate with the upper floors. However, I happen to see one camera that is turned on. Two men stand opposite each other. One man holds a gun, pointing it at the other man’s head. My hopes are lifted when I see an insignia stitched onto the left sleeve of the man with the gun. A raid. The adversaries of the Corps have stormed the building. I click on the camera and zoom in, taking everything in. But I realize the insignia is that of the Corps. The man being held at gunpoint is Chris. And the man holding Chris at gunpoint is Kelton.
I frantically scramble to find the right button to push so I can listen in. The computerized voice asks again if I would like to continue, so I press ‘yes,’ turn on the audio, and wait.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Chris says. “To your own father.”
“You were never much of a father, now were you,” Kelton retorts.
“Is this because of your mother?” Chris asks. “I killed her because she was a threat to my-our-company. This organization wouldn’t be what it is today if she were still here.”
“You could’ve locked her up with the rest of your prisoners,” Kelton offers.
“That’s just so inhumane,” Chris responds. “She was my wife, not my slave.”
“She was my mother!” Kelton cries. A tear slips down his face. “I watched her die in front of me.”
Welcome to the club, I think, but I realize I’m not part of that club. My mother is still alive as far as I know. I hope the meeting that I walked in on back at my house went well.
A tear falls down my own cheek as I think of Daniel and his mother. Chris murdered her, in front of him, as a child
. Every decision he made was because of her. He told me once on one of our longer flights how everything he did was to avenge her death. He told me that one thing she always said was to never live in fear, otherwise it would consume you. Daniel mentioned later that he almost went after Chris himself until Mr. Smith assigned him to be my partner.
“I couldn’t have taken a scared little twelve-year old with me,” he said once. “I’d like to believe you saved my life.” He didn’t like to admit to weakness, so this speech of his caught me off guard. I blushed slightly and he slugged me playfully in the arm.
I almost begin bawling at the memory. Daniel and I were best friends, even though I always secretly hoped it would be something more. At first, he would tell me about this girl that he knew; he talked about her all the time. One day I exploded.
“Do you have anything better to talk about?” I asked furiously.
“What?”
“This girl, Callie or whatever, you talk about her all the time,” I said, a little more calmly this time.
“Oh, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were the jealous type.”
I exploded again. “I am not the jealous type! I just think it’s annoying when the only thing you talk about is some girl I’ve never met!”
“If you met her, would you change your mind?”
“Probably not,” I said, still very angry with him. “Besides, I know enough about her from you blabbing all the time to probably pick her out in a lineup.”
“Ha!” he said. “I knew you were the jealous type. You could not pick her out in a lineup.”
“I could-”
“She’s made up!” he shouts above me. “I made her up to get under your skin. She’s not real. I don’t know anyone named Callie.”
I was speechless. All of this—these stories about their adventures—was made up to make me mad. I don’t remember if it made me more mad or just more annoyed. He playfully punched me in the arm and smiled.
“Don’t be so uptight,” he joked. “I’m just trying to have some fun.”
“You had me believe she was real,” I said, on the verge of tears.
“Look, I’m sorry for wanting to have fun, but liven up a little,” he said. “You only live once.”
Thinking back, I should’ve realized the story of Daniel jumping off a building to go be with some other girl named Callie was all a hoax. I guess I was just too caught up in things to realize he had given me a clue to Kelton’s deception. I can’t believe I let Kelton get in my head enough to make me forget about Daniel’s made-up girlfriend named Callie, created to make me mad. I smile at the memory.
Daniel’s tone did get more serious after revealing Callie was fake, though. I’d always wondered why. He woke up the next night screaming. It startled me so bad I got mad at him the next morning. I accused him of messing around too much. I thought he was trying to scare me. Turns out he was having another nightmare, the one I would later learn would be from Chris killing his mother.
Bang! A loud noise snaps me back to reality. I look at the screen again and see Chris slowly falling backward to the ground. A bullet pierces him through his head. His eyes remain open but lifeless, like the rest of him. He hits the ground with a thud and his body quivers with the impact.
I gasp as I realize what happened. Chris—the leader of the Corps—is dead. Mission accomplished, right? I think back to my dream where Kyle told me Kelton was going to do what his father never could. That dream foreshadowed more than I thought. Creepy. If my dream comes completely true, Kelton will run the Corps and possibly bring even more fear to the galaxy. I know what I have to do. It will be difficult, it will be dangerous, but it will be worth it.
I look at the room number that correlates to the camera and exit out of the app. The room is on the tenth floor, so I head there next. I carry my gun in front of me, extending it around each corner. I climb four floors to the level where the room is and walk down the hall a few paces before finding a spacious area with open cubicles lining the walls. On the far end, opposite the door I entered, Chris’s body lays flat, motionless against the ground. Kelton stands above him. He snatches his ID card and leaves the room.
I run across the expanse of the room, my heart beating and my lungs burning. I run as fast as I can. The center of the room slopes down slightly and I lose my footing. My left leg trips over my right and I go flying. My knee scrapes the concrete floor, and my fresh bullet wound hits the pavement. I scream out from the excruciating pain. No one comes. The only person in the room is dead.
I slowly stand up and limp the rest of the way to where Chris lies, still, peaceful. I sit next to him and examine the bullet wound in his forehead. There’s no blood surrounding him on the ground. His eyes remain open but unwavering. I use my fingers to shut them. Then I place my hand on his chest to see if he’s still breathing. But I don’t feel flesh. My hand touches something hard and smooth. I lift his shirt up slightly and find a chest plate made of a strong metal. That, I realize, is why the bullet Rowan shot didn’t kill him. It ricocheted off the metal plate. Kelton must have known he was wearing body armor because he aimed for his head, not his chest. Maybe he knew because he too was wearing body armor. It’s effective, I’ll give them that.
I get up to leave the room, nearly running into Gregory. He doesn’t look the slightest bit shocked or surprised to see me standing there. He pulls his cart behind him and moves around me, whistling. He glances at Chris, but his expression doesn’t falter. The dead body doesn’t even faze him.
“I found him like this,” I say. “It looks like he was shot.”
He nods but stays silent. I don’t understand how he could be so calm at a time like this. The man who employed him, his leader, is now dead. Then it hits me like a dozen flying bricks. He’s like Rowan, who pretends to help Chris, be his friend, his staff member, but really helps destroy the Corps from the inside.
“Are you-” I start, “a spy?”
He glances at me, the wrinkles in his forehead crease, deepen. “I don’t understand the question,” he replies.
I try to think of a different way to word the question. “Do you work for someone else, besides Chris?”
“First of all,” he starts. “I wouldn’t share that information with you. And second, even if I did, what would it matter. I clean the largest building on this side of the galaxy. I don’t work for Chris, I clean for him. There’s a difference.”
“Then who do you work for?”
“That, my dear, is confidential,” he says. “Sorry.” He pulls a bag from his cart large enough to fit a body.
“You just happen to carry body bags with you?” I say surprised.
“This is the Corps, darling, not the Mardina government.” He gives a weak smile.
His joke is funny, but I don’t laugh. Mardina is a planet in the very center of the galaxy. It has to keep a pretty tight ship over there because it could be attacked from all sides at once. The military system is great. The guards don’t carry guns or anything, they just wear extremely protective body suits and fight everyone bare-handed. They don’t even allow guns on their premises.
I focus back to Gregory, who neatly slips Chris’s body into the bag. But instead of bringing it somewhere to dispose of it, he leaves it where it is. Then he proceeds to push his cart to the opposite end of the room, the side where I came in.
“Wait,” I shout. He turns around. “Aren’t you going to take his body? If you can’t lift it, I can help you.”
“You’re a naive little girl, aren’t you?” he responds. “If I disposed every body of Chris’s that I found, I’d wear myself to death.”
“What do you-”
“Bye-bye now!” he sings over his shoulder. Then he carries on with his whistling.
I could follow him, see where he goes next. I figure he won’t talk to me anymore though. He’s stubborn that way. The room is so vast and empty that he would see me if I followed him. I could go out the way Kelton did, but I don’t know if it connect
s with the other door, and by the time I get to the other exit, he’ll probably already be gone. I’m running out of options and time, so I decide to chase after him. I cross my fingers and hope he’s in a talkative mood.
For an older man, he’s pretty fast. He’s halfway across the room before I make up my mind. I run to catch up, being careful of the slope in the middle. When I reach him, I slow my pace down to a walk and try to catch my breath.
“Why are you following me?”
“I need answers,” I respond through breaths.
“And you think I have the answers?”
“I think you know more than you’re letting on.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know,” I say still panting. “You just seem like you have a lot of insight on the Corps and what they plan to do.”
“I clean for them, don’t I? I would have to know something.”
“Look, I’m on your side. I just want to know some information.”
“How do you know I’m on your side?” he taunts. “You have been deceived many times in this building; what makes you think now would be any different?”
“I’ve learned to trust people,” I say. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but it’s who I am. It’s what I do.”
He looks at me sideways.
“Look, I’ve been through a lot these last few weeks. My mother is at home, either dead or barely living. I may never get to see the man I love again. I may not get to see my younger brother or my father, both of whom I hadn’t seen for many years before this excursion. If you want to help me complete my mission, follow me. We have to find Kelton and stop him from taking over this operation. He cannot follow in his father’s footsteps.”
“Why are you so adamant about destroying the organization?”
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