When the bell rang everyday at 12 o’clock the people stopped. The children dropped their toys and their crayons, chubby little fingers pushing off the floor in a hasty attempt to stand. The mothers wiped their sweaty palms on their chicken-broth stained aprons, regretfully abandoning the half finished dinner on the stove. And the fathers, in their black, pristine suits and ironed ties, left their paper-cluttered desks and filed out the door in a straight line. The people marched through town like an army of ants, feet clattering against the concrete sidewalk in a poetic rhythm, one behind the other, not a body out of place. They made their way to the town square, arms swinging in time with their legs, and lined up perfectly-youngest in the front, oldest in the back!-in front of the weed covered, broken, marble water fountain. At one point, it was a brilliant white, with a young marble boy and girl standing on the top, each holding a small watering can that poured water into a large basin. Now, the clean white is long gone and the little paint that’s still left is blanketed with dirt. The girl and boy are chipped, missing bits of their fingers and toes, the edges of their buckets rugged with age.



The people gathered perfectly together in their age groups, and everyone, from ages 5, 25, and 55, stood silently as they eyed the wooden stage before them. It was short, only three steps to reach the top, with a podium and microphone in the center. And so they waited. Silently. Backs straight. Eyes forward. Heads up. Perfect.


Johanna Matheson was waiting as well, but as she stood in the line of 16 year olds, she couldn’t but fidget. She fingered the hem of her gray school skirt, tapped her foot against the cold, hard concrete, and eyed the crowd around her. And not a single person noticed, or if they did, they did not acknowledge it. The eerie silence that accompanied the town meetings always disturbed her. Even the wind was still, allowing the silence to wrap around the crowd like a blanket, sending chills up their spines and tingles down their toes. The youngest of the crowd watched the stage as still as a statue, like their mothers and fathers had told them to, and their brothers and sisters had done before them. And the oldest of the bunch, men in their wheel chairs and woman with their walkers, abandoned their aid and tried to stand with pride, for that was what they had always done. Yet Johanna never did. Not when she was young, and not now at 16.


The silence was finally broken by the pat pat pat of steady footsteps walking down the aisle in between the crowd. The footsteps belonged to a man, no more than 35, with sleek, gelled back black hair and piercing blue eyes. His suit was ironed straight, not a wrinkle in sight, and his mouth wore a withering smirk along with perfect, blindingly white teeth. He had a hulk-like stature and a chiseled jaw that made the crowd practically melt into their own skin. The man marched up to the stage, in long, rhythmic strides and stood behind the podium. And, like he did everyday when the bell rang, he said:



“Hello, my friends.”

It was like clockwork: the crowd nodded in response, he shot them his famous, sadistic smile, and then he continued on with his speech.


“I am glad to inform you all that I have reviewed your annual tests, and have chosen this years winners. As you know, there is no possible way to study and the winners are based on whosevers answers came closest to what I am specifically looking for. This year, I have narrowed it down to five winners. When I call your names, please come to stage.”

He pulled out a crisp piece of white notebook paper from his pocket and cleared his throat.


“Lilliana Richards.”

A young girl, no more than eleven, walked forward. Her hair was pulled into two blonde pigtails and her gray school skirt was slightly ruffled. As she walked to the stage, she tried to desperately to flatten it out but to no avail. She quickly walked up the steps, practically taking two at a time, and once she got the stage, she stood nervously next to the Man. He nodded in her direction and she nodded back.



“Raleigh Grimm,” he called next.

A couple rows behind Johanna, a teenage boy looked up and clenched his fist. His expression set in stone, he pushed through the rows of people and walked down the aisle, up the steps, and on to the stage. Unlike Lilliana, he did not nervously stand next to the Man, but instead marched up to him and held out his hand. The Man looked at him for a moment in confusion, before slowly taking it and giving it a firm shake. Raleigh then turned, winked at the crowd, and took his place next to LIlliana. The Man might have chuckled, but no one heard or noticed.


“Henry Payne.”

This time an older man stepped forward. His hair was covered in specks of gray and white and his face was wrinkled with age. Despite this, he had a strong air about him and his jaw was clenched in something that looked like determination. He walked with a miniscule limp, but at first glance one might not have noticed. Henry silently took his place next to Raleigh, not even taking a second glance at the Man. He faced the crowed, but his eyes were looking farther than that. Farther then the town behind them. The Man glanced at him, shrugged slightly, then continued his list.


“Alia Mitchel.”

A gasp-and then-a young girl in 20’s appeared in the aisle. Straight, string like dirty blonde collapsed around her shoulders, and she carried her thin, frail figure with a strange lack of confidence. Her cheeks and eyes were hollow, and while her clothes were pressed and contained virtually no wrinkles, her appearance made her seem broken.

She collected herself and glided towards the stage, her head ducked and her eyes examining to cement ground with interest. Her hair covered her eyes like a mane, and as she got to the stage, she refused to make direct eye contact with The Man or her fellow citizens.

The Man acknowledged her with a slight nod, but she did not notice. He smiled slightly, and redirected his attention to the remaining audience members. Clearing his throat, he began to speak.


“And finally, Johanna Matheson.”

She heard her name. It rung in her ears, bouncing in and out of her brain like a ball: Johanna Matheson, Johanna Matheson, Johanna Matheson-yet, it didn’t register. Not completely. Her feet started to move, started to walk through the crowd and down the aisle, up the stairs and onto the stage, but her brain didn’t know where she was going, it didn’t know why she was walking, and it didn’t know why her hands were shaking and her eyebrow was sweating. Her eye’s saw The Man, her hand shook his hand, and feet carried her to stand next to Alia. But none of it sunk in. Her eyes scanned the crowd in a catatonic state, her expression just as neutral as theirs. But her fingers gripped the hem of her skirt, her foot tapped nervously against the stage, and her tooth crept out to bite her lip. And that’s why she was on the stage, and not still amongst the crowd.

Johanna felt The Man’s gaze linger on her, before shifting back towards the crowd. He addressed them a gesture of his hands, before speaking for the last time:


“These five, very different, very interesting people have been selected as the winners of this years assessments. The winners will stay on the stage, and the rest of you may go back to your previous activities. Better luck next year.”

The people turned around and marched away, in perfect synchronization and rhythm of course, and went back to their homes and offices.

Once they were gone, The Man turned to the five people on the stage and smiled.


“Well, I guess congratulations are in order.”

Before anyone could reply, Raleigh scoffed.


“Cut the crap. We’re not robots like the rest of them. We’re not hypnotized by your bells, and your tests and your perfect society song and dance bullshit. What do you want with us?”

The Man laughed. A full, belly laugh that bounced off the walls of the buildings and rang through the silent town square.


“Well, you’re just going to have to come with me to find out, aren’t you Raleigh?


“And why,” he said, dragging out every word, “would I go anywhere with you?”

The Man smirked, looking him straight in the eye.


“Because I know you. I know all of you. I’ve watched you grow up, figure out your likes and dislikes, realize that even though your parents told you different, you knew this wasn’t the right way to live. And even though you’re all very different, you have one thing in common: you’re too curious for your own good. And you want to know what’s outside of these walls. I can give you that knowledge. That’s why all of you will come with me.”

The walls. The cinderblocks crafted and paved high around the city, encircling it, shading it, protecting it. They were miles high and miles long and most importantly, as far as anyone knew, there was no door. No way out. Yet, no one was curious enough to care, no one was perceptive enough to notice, and no one was

Johann’s hand tingled, and unconsciously itched toward the piece of paper tucked in her skirt pocket. She had always imagined what was behind walls, and as soon as she was old enough to form words, as soon as she was smart enough to create sentences and weave them into stories, she had written about that mystery. She wrote about buildings tall enough to touch the clouds, jungles filled with millions of different animals, people with thoughts and ideas and stories, magic and adventure, deep, mysterious oceans, and art, music, and knowledge beyond her comprehension. She filled her ideas in notebooks and binders, scratched down thoughts whenever she had them, and here was a man with answers. Answers she wanted, needed.


“I’ll go,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. The other four people looked at her in surprise and she shrugged. There was no turning back now. “I want to know. And…this is probably the only chance we’ll ever get.”

The Man smiled at her and she winced. He was a mystery greater than the walls. A man of power beyond her belief.


“You made the right choice, Johanna. Not that you really had one. At least you’ll be willing,” he said. He then, turned to the rest of the group. “Now, if you would all follow me, I have a car waiting a couple blocks away.”

He walked down the stage and through the aisle and slowly Johanna followed, Alia, Lilliana, Henry, and a reluctant Raleigh behind her. The Man took a left and continued to walk through the small town, the identical buildings and houses plotted around them. They were barley taller than the smallest trees, little shops and cottages with nothing more than everyday necessities. Small, white picket fences surrounded the houses, with perfect lawns and gardens decorating the front lawns. The town was plucked out of a perfect storybook and juxtaposed amongst an uncharacteristically dark world.

Johanna felt someone tap her arm and she spun around the find Raleigh. His mop of blonde hair fell over his chocolate brown eyes, and she couldn’t help but think how different he looked from every other straight-laced, tidy boy she had ever seen.


“It’s Johanna, right?” he asked. Johanna nodded numbly. “Well, Johanna, what the hell was that?”

Johanna glanced up at him, confused.


“What do you mean?”



“Your whole “I want to know what’s on the other side of the wall” speech! We could have gotten out of this!”


“He would have made us go with him, no matter what I said or didn’t say. And you’re telling me you don’t want to know what’s behind the wall?”

His expression went slack and his shoulders sagged. He was silent for a moment, before he ran a hand through his already messy hair and shrugged.


“I do…but not like this. I don’t want to be declared the winner of some stupid, corrupt test and then be dragged away by our supposed leader-all because I’m different,” he said. Johanna nodded. She understood. She never imagined being lead of the city by the hand of The Man. In her dreams, she always walked out herself, with her head held high, leaving the screwed up world she had grown up hating. But now, she realized, it didn’t matter how she got out. As long as she did.


“We’re not being taken out because we’re different,” she told him, “we’re being taken out because we’re not naïve.”

Raleigh opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by The Man stopping at large, Iron Gate. It was and green with age, rust lining up and down the large, cylinder poles. The gate wove up the wall, clinging to it like a life force: a portal between the world outside of it and the colony within it.

Parked on the curb next to the gate was a black SUV. The Man opened the passenger door and got in. When no one followed suit, he looked at the group expectantly.


“Well, c’mon. We don’t have all day,” he said. Johanna opened the back door and got in, this time with Raleigh at her heels. The others shuffled in behind her. Johanna sat by the window, with Raleigh next to her and Lilliana on his right. Henry and Alia were shoved into the third row. A tall man with stark black eyes and dark black hair and beard sat in the drivers seat. He nodded to The Man in acknowledgement before starting the car. He drove up to the gate, stopped the car, and rolled down the window. He reached over and typed in a code on a silver lock. The gate slowly creaked open and the driver drove on. Johanna spun around her seat to see the Iron Gate closing itself to the world. Just before it locked, she caught a glimpse of the unanimous city for the last time.

The car continued down a gravel road, occasionally jumping when it hit a pothole. Miles of fields surrounded them, but in the distance Johanna could see the blurry outline of a skyline.


“Do you have any idea where we are?” she asked Raleigh. He gave her a dubious look.


“I’ve been stuck behind that wall just as long as you have. We could be on Mars for all I know,” he said.


“It’s pretty unimpressive. To be honest, I was kind of hoping for something a little more magical. All I see is corn,” Alia piped up. The Man chuckled from the front seat and turned around to look at them.


“Just you wait,” he said, “You’ll get your magic.”

They drove for a couple of hours, slowly stretching out of the country and into civilization. Henry Payne silently scrawled on a piece of paper in the back of the car, while Alia made her job to entertain Lilliana. Raleigh and Johanna talked about their Life Behind Wall, and by the time the car reached a small community, they knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Brick houses were scattered through the small town, large, stucco mansions popping up here and there. The town was nothing special, not by a long shot, but people walked up and down the cobblestone sidewalk with a skip in their step and a smile on their face. Their clothes were different, a girl dressed in blue next to a boy dressed in red, and it was such a small detail to them but to the 5 people in the car it was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.


“Wow,” Lilliana breathed out. She abandoned the game of Concentration she had started with Alia and pressed her face against the window, her breath forming a fog against the window. Henry stopped writing, put down his small black notebook, and gazed out the window, with a small smile of contentment on his face. It wasn’t exactly what Johanna had imagined, there were no wizards or jungles or oceans, but there were people, people who looked free.

They left the town quickly after that and made their way over a large, steel bridge suspended over a river. The skyline Johanna had spotted before settled on the other side. Now, close up, she could see it was a large, towering city, completely different from the town she grew up in. Even from her spot in the car she could see the citizens were like the people from the town: different…unique. The buildings were all shapes and sizes, one rectangular building spanning 1,250 feet tall and next to it a cylinder building circling into the sky.

The driver crossed the bridge and drove through the nucleus of the city. Bikers rode along the sidewalk, while joggers wove in out of their path along the tree line. Cars honked, tires screeched, and the city air wafted into the creases of the black SUV.

Finally, the driver pulled up to a large, steel building. The Man got out, and signaled for them to follow him. He walked into the building with the winners following behind him like ants in a line. The inside of the building was engraved with silver and gold, marvelous sculptures decorating the entrance way and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Johanna gapped at the room, stunned into immobility. She had never seen anything so beautiful, so magical.


“Isn’t it lovely?” The Man said. She nodded dumbly. “Wait until you see what’s up stairs.”

He walked from the lobby and into an elevator, pressing the button for the 10th floor. She had never ridden an elevator before, and guessed none of the other winners had either. She had read about them in books and had seen them on T.V., but she was still amazed by the very thought of small box taking her up to another floor in a building.

When the doors opened, they filed out into a large room. Monitors lined the walls and a round, glass table was stationed in the middle of the room. Men and women worked diligently at the table, pressing keys on small laptops and writing notes on paper.

The Man nudged Johanna and pointed to the monitors.


“Recognized it?” he asked. The images on the largest monitor in the room flashed to life and the city behind The Wall appeared before her. People filed through the streets, their heads down and expressions slack, working and playing without any thought or focus. What a contrast, Johanna noticed, between them and the free people outside of The Wall.


“Let me introduce myself,” The Man said, “My name is Dr. Ivan Gordon and you have all been chosen for Operation ANT. Your entire life has been a government experiment, and now it is time for you to contribute from the outside of The Wall.”

Johanna’s heart dropped and every single monitor in the room lit up.