“Maya’s Dream”

I finally catch my breath. My squad and I had just sprinted over 50 yards carrying our bounty, a large black crate draped with a green velvet cloth. It is heavy, nearly 300 pounds. That's why we need six people to help with the mission. Only the best had been chosen: me, Lucan, Mabel, Patch, and two Upper Boys. 

Arriving at the large, black, van that is nearly invisible at this late hour, the two Upper Boys hop up and hoist the crate into the back. I hear faraway voices, the security guards are coming. Looking over my shoulder at the faint buildings behind us, I think I can see small enclosures with different habitats replicated inside of each one. Interesting. I continue, attempting to scan the rest of my surroundings. It is the dark of night, and I’m barely able to see anything except for the sudden ring of light quickly rising from the hill, the brim of a flashlight, I assume. 

“We have to move quickly, they’re coming,” I say. A moment later, Mabel, my older sister, yells at me, “Maya, hop in!” Piling in the van, we slip off our masks and share a laugh, just like the old times. Mabel grins at me and mouths, “Good job,” to congratulate me. I was shaking with nerves before the mission. She is the best older sister I could ever ask for. I feel better now, after her comforting words. But it only takes seconds for tragedy to strike.

Cruising down the backroads, we’re startled to attention by loud banging coming from the door. The driver stops, and Mabel rises from her seat, slowly making her way to the back of the van to unlatch the door. Each footstep across the metal floor feels like an entire hour. Stepping onto the dirt road, she cautiously observes the surroundings with a flashlight. There is a long and silent pause, then suddenly, Mabel whips around, firing at the top of our van. A fraction of a second later, she cries out in shock as another bullet embeds itself in her chest. It takes me a second to process what just happened. Hearing Mabel’s screams, Lucan and I rush to see what happened. Millions of thoughts rush through my brain. Is she alive? Will she make it back to HQ? When can she get medical care? I look up to where the bullet came from, the top of the van. Lying there is a kid that looks nearly fifteen, only two years older than me, dressed in black, gun dangling from his limp grip. I turn back to Mabel. The bullet was aimed at her heart. Her open, beautiful, caring heart. What did she do to deserve this? Knowing the worst of my fears has come true, I kneel over Mabel’s body as tears trail down my face. There is a distant rumbling, but I am too blinded by grief to notice. Lucan pulls me up by the arm, saying, “Maya! Let’s go, or we’ll all be dead,” I can’t bring myself to leave her, but I know that I must. 

Patch, my best friend who was taken in off the streets by Lucan around the same time Mabel and I were, soothes me the entire drive back to headquarters. I appreciate his efforts, even though nothing can help my misery. Mabel won’t even get a proper funeral, as we fled rapidly, abandoning her body. She deserved more. 

I numbly stagger to my room, which I shared with Mabel, and shut the wooden door. All I want to do is flop down on the fluffy pillow and cry myself to sleep, but I tell myself not to. I desperately need to clear my mind before tomorrow, which is going to be one of the most important days of my life. It is Tryouts, where I can move from a Middle to an Upper agent. If I do, I will make history as the youngest person to accomplish this. Not only that, I will be the first girl to join the ranks. 

Sitting in Mabel’s favorite chair, the drawers to our wooden desk slide open easily as I rummage through for any reminder of my sister. I am convinced that something, anything, I can find will help. But alas, I am wrong. I stomp my way over to the bed, defeated. As I am doing so, I stub my big toe on something. “Seriously?” I think to myself. “Could this day get any worse?” My gaze tilts downward, and to my surprise, there is a concealed drawer, opened by about half an inch. My fingers slide between the gap and pull it open. Inside lies a leather-bound notebook with Mabel’s name engraved on the front. I am confused. Why hadn’t I seen this before? 

As I leaf through the pages, I notice a journal entry from today, written in sparkly purple ink, Mabel’s favorite color. My eyes instantly lock to the page, as if I can’t move them until I finish reading. There is a detail that I can’t quite understand, though. Tonight’s page rambles on about the logistics of our mission, but there is a sentence describing our loot as, “a lump of black and white, with a skin soft as clouds and deep eyes.” I am extremely confused. Mabel was never this vague, except for when she was hiding something. She must have known about the treasure, though I’ve no idea how.  Located at the bottom of the page is a riddle, written in a different color, a deep and inky black. “The bounty lies in how a bird flies, but a little to the west”. How a bird flies… fast? Slow? Nope, that doesn’t make sense. Well, what does a bird use to fly, feathers? Wings? Wings, that's it! It must be hidden in the West Wing, only Uppers are allowed there!

The bright light spills out of my room as I open the door, as quietly as possible. It's too risky to bring a lamp, so I decide to put my night vision skills to the test. Using the railing as a guide, I tiptoe over to the staircase, and descend into the pitch-black kitchen. I pass through a series of corridors, and now stand facing the door to the West Wing. Pressing my hand against the grand door, I realize it is locked. In a moment of panic, I snatch the bobby pin from my hair, bending it into an obscure shape before wiggling it around in the lock. After a small click, I push the heavy door open. The lanterns have all been blown out, but the scent of smoke remains. Soon enough, I catch a whiff of something peculiar, a mix of grass and manure. The scent thickens as I approach the green velvet-draped crate. My hand is drawn to the cage, as if by an invisible force. 

Reaching through the bars, I realize Mabel was right. It is as though I am touching a cloud, a moving cloud. Whatever’s inside the cage is soft, warm, and definitely alive, as I can feel the slow rise and fall of the creature’s breaths. My eyes adjusting to the darkness, I pull off the cover to reveal the outline of black and white patches across a large, round, blob-shaped, figure. My heart skips a beat as I realize what I just discovered. We stole a living, breathing, endangered animal: a panda.

The next day I awake bright and early, ready for Tryouts. Even though last night’s visit made me drowsy, I squeezed in extra practice on agility, night vision, and lock-picking. The whole day, I perform at my peak, gracefully completing every challenge. However, even though my body is focused, my mind is elsewhere. I know that I have to rescue that panda, but have no idea how. 

The news of Mabel’s death has not gotten out yet, so I am spared from sympathy. However, it also means that I receive both her and my rations. Each night, I bring Mabel’s portion to Sanja, the panda, because that’s what she would have wanted. I name her Sanja which means dream in Serbian. 

Eventually, people notice that Mabel is gone, but nonetheless I make sure to feed Sanja every day, even if it comes out of my share. 

Every night I visit her to feed and sit with her for hours before heading back tobed. I can’t stay too long or else Lucan might find me. Sanja and I slowly form a bond. When I enter the room, her head perks up and she crawls to the front of her enclosure, though her manacles restrict much of her movement. 

I can’t explain how I know Sanja is a girl. Maybe it is the little signs that, to me, represent maternal instincts, or maybe it is the sense of sisterhood that we share. She is physically trapped, while I, emotionally and mentally. As the days drag on, Sanja’s belly grows bigger as well as her appetite. I'm suspect that she is going to give birth soon.

One night, while sneaking out to visit Sanja, I overhear a crucial conversation that I am most definitely not supposed to.

“How much d’you think it’ll go for?” Prompts one of the Upper boys in a gruff tone. In reply, Lucan’s raspy voice says, “They usually go for anywhere from $2,000 to $8,000, but the pelts are nearly $100,000. I bet we can get a solid 75k outta’ it.”

“Nice,” says the Upper Boy. “When’s the auction again?” asks the same voice.

“Tomorrow,” Lucan responds.

I know exactly what they are talking about. Sanja is about to be auctioned off, probably to some sick criminal planning to harm her for her beautiful coat. I can’t let that happen. 

At the end of the night, when all is quiet and dark, I sneak into the van that they are driving to the auction. I recognize it instantly as the same van that we drove the night of Mabel’s death, the sadness sinking in. Sliding under a tarp, I decide to sleep there so that I won’t miss the early departure. 

The next morning, I awake to Lucan and Patch heaving Sanja’s cage into the trunk of the van. She is whining in despair, her neck is red with blood from frantic tugging, and her eyes are filled with anxiety. I need to free her as soon as possible, for fear that she will give up on life. Earlier that day, I told Patch about my plan to rescue her, and surprisingly, he said he would help because he was planning to escape soon too. I had no idea. Then I realize we’ve grown up in this awful place and have never known anything besides it. It’s time for a change. No wonder he wants to leave. You know what, if Patch can escape, so can Sanja and I.

The van parks in an enormous, sprawling parking lot. Proudly standing in front is a humongous building, easily several stories high, painted black with a helicopter landing pad on top. That reminds me, we had to learn to fly helicopters at Tryouts. Alright now, back to the heist. 

I make sure to wait at least two minutes, but it feels like forever. Patch and Lucan have already entered the building, and I carefully trail behind them, following the string of voices. They walk into a bathroom. I am confused for a second, then realize what is going on. Lucan and Patch probably went through a hidden doorway in the bathroom. I’ve had to use one before. Criminals like to hide secret passageways in common places so that nobody expects us to congregate there, but I can see through his tricks. They climb down a hidden staircase before locking Sanja in a cramped closet, then enter a bustling room full of scary-looking people. 

I hold my breath and wait for Patch. A moment later, I faintly hear him ask Lucan, “Can I go to the bathroom?” and he walks towards me, grinning and sending a thumbs-up sign. My ears then focus on Sanja, her voice begging for help from inside the closet. Out comes my trusty bobby pin, and the door is open in no time. Grabbing Sanja by the leash, I pull her up and start quickly and quietly moving to the staircase. 

Sanja and I exit into the upper floor of the auction house. She moves at the pace of molasses, since it’s been a while since she has left her cage. A sign on the wall catches my attention, indicating that we have four more flights of stairs to go. “This is gonna’ be a while,” I think to myself. 

The first two flights go by very slowly, at an average of two minutes per staircase. But then, suddenly, as we perch at the landing between flights two and three, Lucan’s voice comes into earshot.

“Find Patch!” he screams at his minions. “NOW!!!,” 

“On it, sir,” reply three shaky voices, creepily in unison.

Sanja and I rush up the final few stairs, and I fear that our footsteps are too loud to be safe. However, ours are drowned out by the close thudding from Lucan’s henchmen, taking the steps two-at-a-time, easily. 

I step out on the landing pad, and see Patch smiling from the helicopter cockpit. Hastily, Sanja climbs aboard. I am filled with so many emotions. As a goodbye to my former life, I turn around for one second. 

Instantly, I feel the chill of a blade on my neck. Lucan’s arm wraps around my head as I scream at Patch, “Go! Now,” and my only path of escape slips out of my grasp. 

But then I pause and realize, I have no family left, and I work for a nameless criminal organization. Sanja has a baby on the way, and I have no way out of here. If I die, at least I die saving a life that was worth something. Maybe I’ll even see Mabel soon. And that was the last thing I thought before the helicopter took off.