Authors: Christine Kersey
I spun around and pulled on the door handle, but it was locked. I slowly turned around and looked at my new home. Bolted to the floor was a cot with a thin mattress stretched across it, folded sheets stacked neatly on top. In one corner of the room stood a metal toilet. Nearby a metal sink was attached to the wall. All four walls were made of concrete. This wasn’t a room, this was a jail cell.
And I was the criminal who had been apprehended.
There were no windows in the room, just a tiny vent in the ceiling to keep me from suffocating. None of my things were in here—not even my toothbrush. Self-pity, hopelessness, and growing panic washed over me in waves, threatening to drown me. I slowly spun around, a feeling of desperation building.
Then I remembered that the camera was still going—at least they hadn’t taken away the glasses. I held still and stared at the blank gray wall. “If you can hear me, please come and get me right away.” I enunciated each word, trying to mitigate the shaking in my voice. With the concrete walls surrounding me, I didn’t have great confidence that the wi-fi had been able to penetrate enough to grab the message, but I grasped onto the sliver of hope that it had worked. What other hope did I have?
Exhausted, but not really sleepy, I had nothing else to do but lie down. I took the sheets—which were just as scratchy and stiff as the ones in my room on the eighth floor—and stretched them over the thin mattress, then took off my shoes and climbed between the sheets. The pillow was pitifully flat, but it was better than nothing. I stared at the ceiling—the light was on and there was no light switch—and tried to focus on the positives. The only one I could think of was Amy being released. I pictured her reuniting with Mom and the boys and felt a tiny tremor of happiness.
The lights went out —it must have been ten o’clock—and I was plunged into darkness. I flashed back to my journey through the tunnel and the terror I’d felt when I’d dropped the lantern, extinguishing the light from the flame. When that had happened, I’d been certain that hideous creatures with sharp fangs were marching toward me, ready to tear me apart. I’d had no idea that instead I was marching toward a life filled with people who were much worse than any creature I’d imagined. People who were happy to tear families apart and take a person’s freedom, just because that person was overweight.
I finally fell asleep and woke when the lights abruptly turned on. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, wondering what was going to happen next. Jack and Dani had failed to rescue me, and even though I wasn’t surprised, the sting of disappointment was still sharp. Fresh despair swept over me as I pondered my fate. Would I ever see my family again? Would the people at Camp Willowmoss
really
let Amy go, or was this all for nothing?
I threw the covers back and pushed myself off of the cot, remembering the cot I’d slept on in the little hut that had led me here. The little cot I hoped to see again when I passed through the hut on my way back to my world. I put my shoes on, then cleaned myself up the best I could under the circumstances—tossing the useless contacts down the toilet—then sat on the bed and waited. I had no idea what time it was but the uncertainty of my fate kept me on edge. A short time later I heard the click on the lock being disengaged and I sat up straight, on high alert.
The door swung open and an Enforcer brought in a tray with breakfast, including the two power bars that I normally got with each meal. With all the stress, I had no appetite, but after he left I forced myself to eat. Who knew what the day would hold and when I’d be offered food again? I forced down the meal, but ended up throwing it up as I was so upset, my stomach rebelled at the mere idea of eating. A while later, after I’d settled down, the door began to open, sending my anxiety through the roof.
This must be it. They must be coming to get me now.
At this point I was just ready to get it over with. Sure enough, a pair of Enforcers stood in the open doorway.
“Let’s go,” one of them said, motioning for me to stand and approach them.
I did as he commanded and when I reached the doorway his partner twisted my arms behind my back and put the handcuffs back on. I hadn’t slept well—tossing and turning all night—and my mouth tasted like vomit, which just added to my misery. They led me down a hall that looked familiar. It was the same hall the receptionist had taken me when I’d first arrived only four days before. Had I failed so quickly? Shame fell over me like a large boulder, making me want to curl up and die.
We walked down the hall and stopped at a door. It was the same door I’d looked at from the other side, from the reception area. But when I’d seen it before I’d been hopeful that my mission would go well. I’d had no idea things would turn dire so quickly.
“Here we go,” one of the Enforcers said to the other.
I wondered what he meant, but found out seconds later when he swung the door open and nudged me through. Dozens of reporters were crammed into the reception area, their cameras trained on me. All at once they started shouting my name—I guess trying to get my attention so they could get a good picture of me, which would be difficult with the way I looked just then. I ignored them, hating every single person in this world.
Then I saw Amy sitting next to Mom and Dad—
Dad!
—a pair of Enforcers keeping the media away, and knew there were a few people in this world that I cared about. My family. I knew they were the only constant, whether in this world or the other. When Amy saw me she jumped up, but when she tried to run toward me one of the Enforcers standing guard held her back. She pushed at his arm, trying to break free, but she couldn’t overcome his superior strength.
Mom and Dad stood too, looks of shock on their faces. I wondered if the Enforcers had woken them early this morning to come to this sideshow, or if they’d at least had the courtesy to let them know the previous night. I was so surprised to see Dad—I hadn’t known he was out. When I looked at him, he’d didn’t look strong and vigorous—like a man who’d just spent months getting healthy. He looked pale and worn down and I wondered what his experience had been like at the F.A.T. center where he’d been kept.
“Morgan?” Mom called out, a look of concern on her face. I wondered if she had trouble recognizing me with my short black hair and glasses. It didn’t matter. I desperately wanted to run to her and tell her how much I loved her. I wanted to hide in the protective circle of her arms, but in reality I knew she couldn’t protect me from the injustices in this world any better than she’d been able to protect Amy.
“Mom,” I called back, and the media went into a frenzy of picture taking, and increased the volume of their cries to get my attention. I strained against the grip of the Enforcers who held me in place, imagining the pride they must be feeling to have finally captured Morgan Campbell.
At least Billy’s still free, I thought. They’d never catch him. He was too clever. The thought gave me some comfort, but I missed him fiercely all the same.
The Enforcers walked me to a chair and pushed me into it, then cuffed my legs to the chair—as if I would have any chance to get away. I looked at Mom, Dad, and Amy, who stared at me helplessly. I glanced around, trying to tune out the reporters, and noticed a podium positioned in the corner of the room. I wondered what it was for—I didn’t remember seeing it when I’d arrived a few days earlier.
A moment later Dr. Tasco—the man who ran Camp Willowmoss, the man who took so much pleasure in watching us participate in the Saturday Challenge—walked through the door that I’d come through moments before and strode up to the podium, a wide smile on his bespectacled face.
Seeing his glasses reminded me of the camera in my glasses and for a second I thought it was a shame my bound hands prevented me from turning it on, then almost laughed. There was no need for my camera—the media would record everything.
“Good morning,” Dr. Tasco said. He seemed to be in a fantastic mood.
The crowd settled down, their eyes trained on Tasco.
“As you can see for yourself, we’ve captured Morgan Campbell, wanted for assaulting an Enforcement Officer.” He paused, letting that sink in and allowing everyone a moment to stare at me like a caged animal in the zoo. I noticed he didn’t mention my and Billy’s escape. Maybe he wanted to preserve the fiction that no one was held here against her will.
He continued. “This morning we will transfer her to a facility with higher security. Camp Willowmoss is meant for those needing to lose weight as well as those who have committed minor infractions, not for serious offenders like Morgan Campbell.”
They were treating me like I was a mass murderer or something and I felt my face flame red at the implication. I stared at my lap, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. I was ashamed, but not because I’d stabbed Hansen—he deserved it and more—but because I’d failed. Failed to get the information that could have turned the tide of public opinion against F.A.T. centers like this one. Failed to conceal my true identity before I’d been able to get out. But at least I’d succeeded in getting Amy out. Just not in the way I had wanted to.
“As promised,” Tasco went on, “We’ve released Amy Campbell to her parents.” He pointed to Amy, Mom, and Dad. Mom and Dad looked shell-shocked, but Amy looked angry. “I’d like to thank everyone involved in apprehending Morgan Campbell,” he went on. “It’s always gratifying to get violent criminals off of the street.”
The absurdity of his comment almost made me smile. Me? A violent criminal? What about Dr. Tasco’s Enforcement Officers—grown men who were twice my size—who were allowed to punch me—a teenaged girl—in the stomach, like Hansen did during my last stay? If he’d hit me just right, he could have killed me. Or what about the Enforcers who hit my legs and Amy’s legs with their batons when we didn’t perform the way they demanded when we were in the gym?
Those
were violent criminals. I’d only been defending Billy from Hansen’s punches.
“I’m sure you’re all curious as to how we were able to capture her.”
I was interested too and I turned my attention back to Tasco.
“A woman purporting to be her mother brought her here several days ago under the pretense that she needed to lose weight. As you can see, her appearance has changed. We believe there are other people involved in this deception and others are investigating that angle.”
That’s just perfect, I thought. Jack and Dani won’t come anywhere near me now, which meant it was all but certain that I had zero chance of getting to the tunnel in time. I imagined living the rest of my life in this world: Never having the hope of getting back to my home world, always having to deal with the intrusion of the government, always being known as a criminal.
A powerful feeling of panic grabbed hold of me and I fought back the urge to vomit, swallowing repeatedly to push the bile back down my throat. My gaze ricocheted around the room, searching for any means of escape. The only way out was through the main door. Assuming I could even get through the crowd, I’d then have to get past the Enforcers who were stationed around the room. The chances of escape were somewhere between slim and none. I suddenly found it hard to breathe and leaned forward slightly to keep the dizziness at bay.
A hard grip on my shoulder yanked me upright and I turned to see one of the Enforcers standing there, glaring at me. No one could help me now. I was on my own. My gaze shot to Amy, who sat next to Mom and Dad, and I felt a glimmer of happiness that at least she was safe now—as safe as anyone could be who lived in this world. At least as long as I was locked up and serving my time, she would be okay.
Tasco continued his story, which pulled my attention back to him. “We haven’t yet determined why Miss Campbell tried to impersonate an innocent civilian. She and the people working with her are either very stupid or very naive.”
I looked at Tasco and he turned and looked at me, which drew everyone else’s attention back to me.
“Surely they must have realized that the retinal scanner cannot be fooled. And each resident at Camp Willowmoss is required to weigh-in—using the retinal scanner for identification purposes—on a daily basis.”
He looked away from me and I felt like a complete idiot for believing Jack and Dani when they’d claimed they had a way to trick the retinal scanner. The people at Camp Willowmoss must have known it was me from the first time I’d gotten on the scale three days before. I only wondered why they didn’t immediately arrest me. I wondered if Hansen knew it was me all along. He certainly picked me out for harassment from the start.
“After the retinal scanner alerted us to her presence, we were able to verify her identity using a blood sample taken during processing, matching her DNA to what was in the government’s database.”
When Dr. Bradley had drawn my blood it had never occurred to me that it would hold the key to my identity. But even if I’d thought of that at the time, what could I have done? My “mother” had already brought me in. At that point I couldn’t have left if I’d wanted to.
As it turned out, this mission was guaranteed to fail. Did Jack and Dani know that or had they really believed it could work? Or were they just using me to get what info they could until I was inevitably caught?
“I’m not taking any questions,” he said. “At this time, Morgan Campbell will be transferred to Camp Stonewater.”
The Enforcers undid the chains from my ankles and pulled me up.
“Can I at least tell my family good-bye?” I yelled loud enough for everyone to hear. That got the attention of the media and they all looked at Dr. Tasco.
Perhaps he felt the pressure of their attention because he seemed reluctant when he said, “Certainly.” He motioned for the Enforcers to bring me over to Mom, Dad, and Amy. It didn’t take any urging from anyone for me to walk to where they waited. When I got within a few feet, Mom and Dad opened their arms and I rushed into them, but with my hands in cuffs, I couldn’t hug them back.