Free Darklandia by T.S. Welti Page A

bottom, Aaron held his wrist inside a scanner in the concrete wall and the gate clanged as it swung open. “After you.”
    The deserted station evoked a feeling of nostalgia for a time I never knew. A time when darklings hustled through these stations with a million destinations in mind. It wasn’t my past, but it still felt within reach.
    A nervous anticipation flooded my limbs. I had seen videos and pictures of the interior of a subway station, but I had never stepped inside. Only government employees with high security clearance used the subways. A sudden paranoid thought washed away my anticipation.
    What if Aaron wasn’t trying to recruit me into the rebel movement? What if this was a test of my loyalty to Felicity?
    I jumped at the clanking sound of the gate as it closed behind us, trapping us like sewer rats. The subway station was surprisingly clean; no trace of the thick layer of grime that coated the streets above us. A glass door enclosed an alcove at the far end of the station. Above the alcove a sign read Ration Dispenser, and it dawned on me that Aaron still hadn’t said anything about the fact that I vomited my ration.
    The soft rumble of an approaching subway car plunged me back into panic mode. “Should I try to drink my ration?”
    He glanced at the dispenser booth then back at me. “No, that would be a violation of Section 10-3.71 of the Code of Felicity ,” he replied, that same questioning look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite grasp. “You should know the code word for word by now, which is obviously why this tour is necessary.”
    Now I was really beginning to question whether Aaron was putting on an act for the cameras or if I had stepped willingly into an elaborate trap.
    We descended another flight of stairs down to the platform level. The subway slowed, grinding to a halt in front of us and a hot, plasticky scent filled the station. Aaron stepped forward, nearly at the edge of the platform. The car stopped and the doors slid open. A thin man in a blue suit stared at us from a cushy seat inside the subway car.
    “Wrong line,” Aaron called out to the man. After a long, awkward silence, the doors finally closed, whisking away the puzzled man.
    Moments later, an empty subway car arrived. We stepped inside and the car inhaled us with a whoosh of air as the doors slid shut behind us.
    Aaron exhaled a deep breath and took a seat on one of the cushioned seats. “Now we can talk,” he said, patting the seat next to him.
    The subway jerked forward and I clutched the safety pole to keep from toppling. My heart raced as I scrambled into the seat beside Aaron, who chuckled at my terror.
    “It’s not funny. I’ve never been inside a moving vehicle,” I said, as the motion of the car hurtling toward some unknown destination made me queasy.
    “Well, at least now I can tell you where we are going,” he began. “I’m taking you to see what it looks like when a person is purified.”
    “You’re taking me to Brookside?” I asked, my stomach leaping at the possibility of seeing my father again.
    “There is no Brookside,” Aaron said coldly. “There never was a Brookside. When you think of leisure homes you probably think of purified humans whiling away their days in comfortable rooms where they may even have interaction with other humans. That is not the case. A purification is much more sinister than that and it has nothing to do with leisure, but you won’t believe me unless I show you.”
    “I’ll believe you, Aaron.”
    “You can call me Nyx, like your father did,” he said. Mr. Half-smile was now Nyx. “Just don’t use that name anywhere there are cameras. And, trust me, I’ve tried to explain the detainee process before. No one believes me until they see it.”
    The subway car continued along the track, slithering through the empty bowels of Manhattan.
    “Where is the purification facility?” I asked to break the silence.
    He paused for a moment as if he were becoming