She walked past Joe the security guard with a friendly wave, and slipped down the hallway, not unseen, just unnoticed. She didn't find it surprising, since she walked by every day. Everyone was used to seeing her there, and so they dismissed her from mind.
But today was different.
She reached her destination quickly, and let the door close behind her, like she was doing the same thing she did all those other times. She glanced around for anyone still in the room working, then headed down the aisle to the computer at the back.
'I'm just going to make sure the rumors weren't true, and then I'll get out,' she told herself repeatedly, 'just in and then right back out.'
She waited patiently, listening to the soft humming as the slumbering computer awoke for her. She let her thoughts drift from what she was about to do, thinking about her daughter instead.
Her daughter's name was Macy, only seven, all freckles and smiles. She lived with her father and his new wife in Maine now. In Macy's last letter, she even said there was going to be a half-sibling in September sometime. She was glad for her daughter's excitement because she loved Macy fiercely and missed her just as terribly.
The tears slipped down her cheeks as she faced the sad thought of going home to an empty apartment when she finished here. Macy, I miss you, she thought sadly, I love you so much.
Shaking her head, she forced herself to return to the present. The monitor went black for a moment, and showed her a glimpse of Kara Mathews, the not-so-promising lab assistant and failed family woman. She was pale, freckled like Macy, and very plain. The tears prickled her eyes again, triggered anew by the harsh critique of herself.
Then the screen turned blue and Kara's reflection was gone, replaced by a little white box asking for a password.
Kara then sat in the cushy swivel chair and typed in her boss's password. The box disappeared and was replaced by a catalogue of files. She clicked the mouse on the Search button and proceeded to type 'Experiment: JK721-Y778'.
The computer whirled to a high pitch as it brought up the results from her command search. A few moments later and she was staring at a link to two different case files. Swallowing at the lump in her throat, Kara shakily moved the mouse over the first file codenamed: Icarus II. Her heart pounded in her chest and the sweat began to form on her face. It's probably nothing, she told herself, nothing at all like…
Her inner pep-talk was cut short as she began reading the overview. Her eyes widened the further she read, and her mouth hung open shortly thereafter. Her mouth had gone dry before she found the ability to close it, and by then, she had finished reading half of the first file.
She hastily skimmed over the rest, logging key words in her mind as she went, 'Gene Therapy…Gene XSD34-XDF…artificial experiments…acquired experiments… live test subject 7: E11-27URF Status: Rogue ….live test subject 8: A11-27URN Status: Rogue.'
She leaned back in her chair to think, or at least to try to. Her head was spinning with what she had just learned. 'Real human children have been kidnapped and experimented on! Right here, in America!'
'Those poor children', she kept thinking, 'if it happened to them, could it happen to Macy?' She straightened slightly, a sudden jolt going through her, "I have to stop them," she whispered aloud, "I have to tell someone. I have to do something!"
Then the salty hot tears came, as she scrunched her eyes closed, trying to forget, trying to push away the thoughts that made her want to lose her lunch. She buried her face in her hands and cried for the children whose lives had been cut short so brutally, the families torn and murdered, and the children still out there that had to live with the horror of what had been done to them.
She shuddered again as a memory of her own mother resurfaced; of the warning she had given the day before she died.
Sitting there in her dingy old blue recliner, nursing on a cup of some strong drink, Kara's mother would glare at the world from her haven. "One day you'll learn girl. One day you'll see," she would say sometimes to her small child, "This world is just a disgusting cosmic accident full of evil people."
Her mother would watch the news all day, and sneer at them, pointing out how one thing or another proved the depravity of the world. Kara would listen with half an ear, having heard it all before. But Kara never believed her mother, thinking she was a hypocrite for drinking and declaring the world a 'cosmic accident' with one hand and thumping a Bible with the other.
But then one day, her mother was sober; the day before she died.
That day, when Kara came home from school, her mother was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for her withouther glass of alcohol. "Have a seat," she had said, "this'll take a while." She handed Kara a glass of milk and a plate of chocolate cookies. There were some papers on the table that Kara glanced at, but she didn't understand the words. Something about cancer and Stage 4. Was there a Zodiac play happening somewhere? Was she going to perform in it? Since when did her mom care about her performances?
Kara obeyed silently, wondering at the reason for the sudden change. Her mother studied her carefully as she nibbled on the first cookie and dunked it in the milk. Finally, her mother began, "I haven't been a very good mother, I know. I haven't taken you to church like I should have, or go to one of your dance recitals, or even taken you to the park since you became a toddler. For all that, I'm sorry. But for what I'm about to tell you, I'll never regret."
Kara stared at her mother with wide eyes, just a little nine-year-old, frightened, and confused by what her mother was saying. Her mother leaned back suddenly from her leaning position, taking her intense gaze away from the frightened child. Staring off at the wall, her mother's voice got small and frightened, tinged with sadness and regret, almost as if it belonged to Kara.
"I never fully believed all the religious crap my mother shoved down my throat, and I was so bitter for so long because of it, avoiding life. I've made a mess of myself because of my stubborn view, believing in the lies of the human condition, how we are on the track of progress or something like that. For a time when I realized progress was just repeating old mistakes, I whole-heartedly believed people were evil and there was no god. I believed there was no point in anything. But I've finally learned something."
She paused a moment, searching desperately for words, "I finally realized that without him, nothing was evil. I know it's confusing but let me put it like this: If there was no God, and no absolute truth, which he said he was, then everyone's relative truth is right, and none of it is wrong. That sounds like a cool thing but think about it: that means thieves are right to steal, and those crazy people you see on the news are right to kill other people in the sick twisted ways they do."
Kara followed only about half of what her mother was saying, but she nodded vigorously anyway. "Good, I'm glad," her mother looked away a moment, swallowed heavily, and pulled back her tears whispering, "I'll miss you kiddo." Kara was surprised and blinked up at her mother confused. Her mother borrowed into Kara with her intense stare, "Promise me you'll find God like I did, promise!" Once Kara shook her little head in agreement, her mother continued, "You'll get sucked up in the vilest things of this world if you don't."
Her mother opened her arms and Kara ran into them without a second's hesitation. "I love you so much Kara. I'm so sorry I've messed up. Please forgive me," Mother and daughter cried together that night, making ground they never shared before.
The next day Kara was pulled out of school by her father. On their way to a place she didn't know, he leaned towards her and gently whispered with sad eyes the story of her mother's final moments on earth. And so Kara rejected the idea of a good God who took her mother away when they were finally getting close from that day on. Life was just chaos and accidents.
Kara shook her head and wiped away her tears, "You were right mom. You were right. I did get sucked up in these people's sins; my sins." There was a God, because if there wasn't, then what these people were doing was right. The acceptance kindled a spark in her heart, and with a new purpose and clarity, Kara hastily copied both files to her key chain flash drive and sent them to her e-mail just in case. In addition, she sent it to a couple of people she trusted, people who didn't work for the Institute. As an added precaution to protect those people, she added a layer of encryption. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as the last e-mail went through. 'Now then,' she thought, 'All I need to do is wipe any trace I was in these files and…'
"Kara, what are you doing in here?"
Kara spun on her chair to face none other than Dr. Karen Michaels. The woman who was in charge of the experiments on those files; the woman she had helped unknowingly. She tried to sit still, to look like she was doing something she was supposed to, like she still didn't know what was going on. But she felt like the mouse between the cat's paws.
"What are you looking at? Is that…," Karen trailed off, already reading what was on the screen before Kara could turn and change it. A cold shiver of fear went down her spine when Kara caught Karen's gaze, because death was written there.
"You shouldn't mess around with things that don't concern you. I can't let you get away with this Kara," the woman smiled as if she was joking, but the laughter wasn't in her eyes. She had a calculating stare, like she was breaking down Kara with her look alone, and when she was done, the jury might as well have cried guilty.
But suddenly Kara's fear was replaced with warmth, because somehow, amid her fear and panic, her heart cried out for help, and someone or something answered. Even though she was still in danger, and even though she wanted desperately to live, the presence flooded her being with comfort and reassurance. Then with a strength she knew couldn't be her own, Kara straightened up and looked Karen straight in the eye, "This is the beginning of the end of your sins Karen Michaels, you can still give up now, but the end is coming."
Kara closed her eyes in peace, knowing that whatever was next, it wasn't the end for her or anyone else, because something had just started. And while her work here was done, she had a feeling something was waiting for her on the other side.
