Model in Disguise

5. And the Truth Will Out

       But it isn’t a door. So how is it possible?

       I sigh, massaging my temples. Maybe it’s too early to be trying to get my brain to work. Pushing my hand against the wall, I find myself leaning against it with one hand for support.

       And then the strangest thing happens.

       The wall scans my DNA.

       A screen appears in the center of the wall, forming a black square that easily stands out amongst the light color of the wall. I jump back as quickly as I would if the wall burned me and blink at it. Then, a neon blue hand print where I placed my hand appears on the screen, and a bright glowing line scans over the hand print.

       Any thoughts I start to form are interrupted by a monotone voice. The DNA scanner’s motherboard declares, “Scanning complete. DNA verified.” And then the wall splits open.

       Soon I’m shuffling down the mass of steps that appear inside the wall. After I enter the gap where the wall is divided, the two sides that were once split open behind me close shut, a loud clicking sound echoing over the walls that enclose the staircase. I jump ten feet into the air and swivel around to look back, but all I see is darkness.

       The only light brought into the narrow space consists of a few tiny dots of blue that descend along the walls with the stairs. There’s no turning back now; I turn around and continue. At the end of the steps I face yet another black square.

       This time the DNA scanner isn’t hidden in the slightest bit. It’s perfectly visible. When I place my hand on the screen, the same deep, female voice answers the action from invisible speakers. “Scanning complete. DNA verified.” And the screen disappears, revealing a set of double doors I didn’t see there before.

       The doors open. When I step inside, I’m disappointed.

       After all of that, I come face to face with a regular office-looking room.

       Inside the double doors is a long, sleek, shiny brown table complete with chairs, a 10-foot-tall flat screen, and windows all around. The room’s bright white lighting comes from the ceiling above my head.

       The outside of the windows are completely blank because they’ve been sealed off, which defeats the purpose for having them to begin with. Two desks stand to the right as well, slightly out of place and holding piles of messily stacked papers.

       I look at the white walls surrounding me and can’t help thinking that it looks like such a lifeless room. Lifeless, that is, until I trip on something poking upwards from the floor. I fall to the ground just as the room darkens.

       I almost scream my head off, thinking that some gang is about to jump out from nowhere and attack me. I don’t doubt that it's a possibility. But I soon realize that the thing I tripped on is actually just a button on the floor that resembles a flattened light switch, so I tell myself that this is supposed to happen.  

       For the third time today, I jump. This time it’s because of the lights that abruptly go on again. At first, there is a moment of inactivity and silence.

       And then the room springs to life. Neon colors take over the white room as things are moved around and walls are either flipped or pushed back to reveal more room.  

       That bland conference table is long gone; in its place stands a training room.

       On one side of the room are mats and weights and other things for fighting or strength building. That side of the room is separated by what looks like a clear glass wall.

       The other side of the room is littered with gadgets and weapons that I’ve never seen before. I can’t describe those correctly even if I want to; they are too complex. But the real reason that I won’t go into detail is because Special Operations doesn’t allow agents to describe their weapons.

       Some of the weapons look like something you would see in a game of laser tag; they’re bulky and deadly-looking. I decide that I would rather not touch those. But my breath catches in my throat when I spot the branding on the side. Government Property, it reads, Developed to Special Operations.

       It clicks in my mind, then, what my family does exactly. Aaron and his secret phone calls. Kyle and his quick reflexes. Mom and her strength. Aaron, filling up a gas tank without gas. The arguing, the men in suits; it all makes sense to me now.

       But before I can react to my thoughts, something amongst the guns catches my eye. My bracelet.

       When I was younger I had problems remembering where I put things after I set them down. I used to lose everything; it seemed right to assume that I’d also lost the bracelet. But in reality, Mom had found it.

       I wore the bracelet everywhere; it was a present from my father. I treasured everything from Richard Harris, the man who was there when I was brought into the world and died when I was four. The silver piece of jewelry is all I have left of him. And I want it back.

       But when I reach my hand out to touch it, I’m startled into pausing in my movements. Because this is exactly when I hear two voices from behind me scream, “Don’t touch that!”

       I freeze, my expression darkening. Slowly I turn to face them, my face becoming a mask of all emotion and displaying none of the betrayal that I feel. My eyes meet a pair of green eyes identical to mine.

        “Oh, look who’s back.” I ignore how surprised I am at how cold I sound. “You’ve been gone long enough, I suppose. Had people to attend to.”

       Aaron stands in the doorway of the double doors that served as my entrance, his usually carefree expression guarded. “Rachel,” he cautions, “put that down.” He and my mother share expressions of pure surprise. I laugh humorlessly.

       They didn’t expect me to find their lair. They didn’t expect me to find out anything. Ever.

       “And why should I?” says my flat voice. I hardly recognize myself.

       Aaron takes a step forward, a wary movement. “It’s one of the few devices we have that emits highly amplified and coherent radiation of one or more discrete frequencies.”

       Another laugh escapes. “So you turned my bracelet into a laser.” I shrug at their figures, turning back to set the bracelet in its original spot.

       When I turn back a sarcastic grin lights up my face. Through it I show nothing, but inside I am so, so angry. I want to pick up the bracelet and use the laser on them. But I don’t. Instead I examine their faces.

       With the same bitter smile plastered onto my face, I ask a question I already know the answer to. This time I can’t control the anger that leaks into my voice as I bellow, “What the hell is going on?”

                     *          *          *

       FINALLY. Right? I'm soooooo excited now that Rachel knows. I really have changed this story, guys. It's gonna blow your mind.

       IMPORTANT QUESTION: Should David's new name be Aiden or Adrian? I think I'm leaning more towards Adrian . . .

       Well, anyway. Sorry if there are any mistakes. Not proofread.

       Meet the Characters on the side! Adriana Lima as Rachel, btw. I never wrote her name on the picture. Figured you'd be able to tell by how huge she is compared to everyone else, lol.

       Comment your opinions, guys! [Commenters get dedications, you know the drill.] And vote if you like it.

       ' AwesomleyBlaze