'We wish for his body to be interred by the government,' the man replied casually, his voice remarkably steady, and then abruptly put the telephone down. His wife began crying in earnest, tears rolling down her high cheekbones.

She turned to her husband and wailed, "How could you just leave our baby's body in the hands of those devils! They will mutilate his body and… and use it for their senseless experiments, and..." Her voice broke, and her knees buckled. The thud echoed around the house as she cried and yearned for her son to come back, as she yearned that her son was still alive and all of this was a terrible nightmare, as she yearned for the downfall of the government that executed her son.

Her husband knelt on the ground and kissed her forehead as his arms crept around the woman's willowy body. He hummed gently to console her and then said in a soothing, yet emotional voice, "Sweetheart, he is not dead. They would have just sent a mutilated corpse to us."

In an instant, her head rocketed up as her eyes filled with hope. "What do you mean?" she questioned. The only sound that she could hear was the beating of her own heart as she went over her husband's words. His hands were shaking and he wouldn't look in her eyes. He did not say that their son was alive and safe, just that he was not dead. This meant that he could be suffering a fate worse than death.

"I have been… researching, for a lack of a better word, of what actually happens, during which I ran into a society of rebels, of which many had children who were executed." He made air quotes at the word executed, with a mocking tone. "I prognosticate that Dickie," he stammered out his son's name, "would probably fail the test and wanted to know what his fate would be. There I learned that the children were not executed, but were tortured mentally, emotionally and physically, and were used to make new rules and regulations."

Hearing this, the woman began weeping again. Her darling son was being tortured right now! He probably thought that his parents did not care about him. Her husband swiped his fingers under her eyes, and brought her closer to his chest, and whispered, "There still is hope. The rebels are planning to sneak in and take away all the questions and are ready to escape. We are too less to overthrow the government, but we can run away and build our own society, far away from here."

"I am ready." His wife replied, her eyes set in a determined mask. "When is the next meeting? What should I start doing?" She stood up and hoisted her husband up, with surprisingly strong arms.

"The next meeting is on Saturday, at noon. We should begin packing our things, taking everything with us. However, the packing should be conservative and should not take a lot of space. Oh! I forgot that we can use the shrinker. We must first pack away our research first and foremost. I don't want those slimy snakes to get their hands on them. They could use it to hurt even more people."

"I agree." She replied as she moved towards their bedroom to get the shrinker. Her husband moved silently to the office and began removing the cartons he had bought just for this exact reason. Unanimously, in unbelievable sync, the husband-wife duo began packing and shrinking their things.

Over the week, they managed to pack all of their things without arousing mistrust. They even started shrinking their furniture and a few materials to build a home for when the runaway. Because of the shrinker, all of their things fit into a single suitcase, which was extremely helpful for throwing off suspicion. They told their nosy neighbor that they were going for a short vacation, and they were extremely sympathetic.

Finally, Saturday came. Both husband and wife were jittery and after eating a rushed breakfast, escaped their empty home and drove to the meeting spot, a secluded region close to the forest, which was not in the government's notice. There was not a lot of interaction; time was not their friend. They quickly discussed their plan, and at the end, the Jordans decided to lend their shrinker to the other families. Their plan was to attack now, while the government least suspected it.

The sound of a whip hitting skin echoed through the small cell. A loud guttural scream escaped the lips of the small boy. Suddenly, he was yanked up by his hair and thrown into a smaller adjoining cell.

The muscled man made a disgusted noise as the smell of vomit assaulted his nose. "You worthless piece of ****. No wonder your parents didn't want you. They are so relieved that you are out of their way that they are throwing parties every day," he spat to the curled up boy, who had various bruises and cuts around his body. Hearing the answering whimper, his lips turned into a smug smirk.

"Listen here, you stupid *****, solve these sums before I am back. If you don't, I will whip you so hard that you won't feel anything but the sting of your wounds for weeks. Do you understand?" He yelled. Again, a small whimper came out of the boy's swollen lips. The man laughed menacingly and ran away.

The boy reached out and curled his hand around the pen, and crawled towards the sheet of paper. Maths was always his favorite subject, but now he could barely look at numbers without feeling nauseous. He slowly began solving the sums, all the while wishing that his parents would take him back, and they all could be safe and sound at home.

The day had finally come, the day they would storm into the prison and get their precious baby boy back. They had prepared everything over the past two weeks, quickly checking things out from their list. They had packed everything required to have a fully functional community. It certainly did help that everyone in their secret society was hardened by the loss of their child and were secret geniuses.

As the night crept by, the woman silently drove the truck towards the place holding her son captive. The others were nonchalantly and irregularly following her. There was absolutely no room for mistakes. The sanity of their children rested on their shoulders.

The plan was that three groups will enter from the back entrance and two from the front entrance. One group each will be waiting near both the entrances. Two other groups will follow with all their luggage and things. The anticipation was high and it was slightly disconcerting to watch the bloodthirsty grin on Mr. Jordan's face. The Jordans were to go through the back entrance and come out from the front entrance. This would make sure that they could get as many children out as possible.

The first thing that Dickie heard when he got up was the loud and devastating. He curled his arms around his knees and curled into himself, hoping for a quick death for he could not bear to remain in this place any longer. He just wanted to go home, to his family and wanted to pretend that none of this ever happened, and that is when the dam broke. He began crying, sobbing, yowling, at God begging him to release him from this hell. His friends had always compared him to a cat, and at the moment he would have liked nothing more than to turn into a cat.

Suddenly, the lock of his cell clicked. He curled tighter, trying to protect his head. He had learned fast enough that covering his head would make the beating less painful. He whimpered quietly and tried to inconspicuously wipe away his tears.

"Dickie?" a voice whispered. His body automatically uncurled and he raised his head almost shyly. "Momma?" he answered back. Arms suddenly wrapped around his frail body and he began crying again. He must be hallucinating! Why would his parents even want him? He was a good for nothing piece of ****. Why else would they give him up?

But he knew that it was real when he saw the other children escaping. His mother hoisted him up, and they ran towards the exit and climbed a truck. His father was there waiting for them and quickly covered both of them with kisses. They shared a silent, yet extremely emotional family reunion. Together. Always.

A few comments on what happened afterward:

All the children were treated for their injuries.

After a week, they reached their destination - a humongous clearing between a dense forest

Working together they all built a community, a nation which they named Liber.

It did take some time for all the children to recover from their mental scars, but they did overcome and eventually were able to put behind the painful ordeal.

And they all lived happily ever after…

THE END