Illusion ➵ Zach Mitchell

02 ➵ monorail

ILLUSION

[chapter two]

GAZING outside and resting my head on the oversized bullet train window, I recount my final moments before I had stepped onto the plane. My mom, who was already irritated that she had to fly in from Washington D.C. to make sure I was meeting my father safely, had been very over protective. She insisted that she repack my suit case and made sure I was prepared if anything were to happen to while I was with my father. Part of me thought she was more worried about me staying with my father rather than staying on an island inhabited with ravenous, prehistoric, man eating dinosaurs.

The plan ride hadn't been any better. She and Marzia, the woman my mother appointed to raise me, had been calling me nonstop. 'Are you, okay?' 'Have you made it yet?' all from Marzia, and the standard, 'Call Stacey, to schedule a facetime meeting.' And let's not forget the all so comforting: 'Remember, to call on the hour, but not at 3:00 because of my meeting with the board of directors of the Jeffersonian. And you know what, 5:00 doesn't work for me either.'

I lean my head on the seat trying to get my mind off my mother. I focus on how abnormally beautiful the exotic plant life of Isla Nublar seems to be. Large ferns and thick trees line the rails, and colorful blooming flowers litter the ground, trailing up. Each and every tropical flora were almost too beautiful to be real, looking as if they were photo shopped. The rich scenery almost acted as a preview foreshadowing what was being held inside of the park. It made sense. Fake looking plants to go with the 'fake' animal attractions. All one big illusion.

"Now, if you move closer to the front of the car, you will be able to see the opening gates of Jurassic World!" I hear the conductor announce, signaling that we were almost to the park. I mentally groan, too much enthusiasm for me. "It's the very wood that was saved from the original Jurassic Park!"

I sigh. There it is. The mentioning of the sacred Jurassic Park sparking a brief wave of grief. Everyone knew what happened twenty-two years ago when the park's original owner, John Hammond, tried to open the park. Death. The tragic events were in the news for years. The park's security systems were hacked and the gates keeping in most of the dinosaurs were opened. Multiple workers died. But most of the people here either don't remember or they chose to forget.

Suddenly, I feel someone step on my white convers. I glare at the dark mark on my shoe and reach down to rub it off. I peer into the isle, hoping to catch the culprit. I spot a kid with light blonde hair bouncing up and down near the back of the herd of children. I watch the refection's' of the younger children who had forged a crowd at the front of the train; their eyes widening with astonishment as they took in the magnitude of the entrance of Jurassic World. If they only knew what really went on beyond those large wooden doors.

Scowling, I lean back in my seat as the over animated voice of the stewardess sounded over the speakers again:

"Welcome, to Jurassic World."

The monorail stopped and everyone looks up as the large doors open slowly. Music sounds throughout the car. So overly dramatic. Did they really have to spend every second working up the crowd? I mean, I've heard the park's theme song too many times to count and I haven't even entered the park yet. Sighing, I turn up the volume on my phone, letting Arctic Monkeys fill my ears as we enter the gates.

*

The stewardess spoke once again, telling us to have a 'fantastic' day and to exit the train in an orderly fashion. Of course, no one was listening. I watch as the doors slid open, welcoming in the heat and humidity that radiated from the island. Excited kids run for the doors with their equally enthusiastic parents following behind. Getting up, I shrug on my backpack, smooth out my light blue t-shirt and wait to exit.

I few passengers spare me quick glances as they leave and I lower my head. It wasn't exactly a secret that I was the daughter of the multibillionaire Simon Masrani and owner the park, but barely anybody cared and that's the way I like it. Most of me wishes I hadn't ever agreed to come here, but I know wat I have to do. I'm the youngest hacker in Northern America and the leader of AntiGen, whose sole purpose it to take greedy corporations down a peg. I had to admit, I was surprised when my father had called me and invited me to Jurassic World. I hadn't spoken to him in a while. But I needed to leverage. Being his daughter and all had some perks. Like hopefully access to the Control Room.

I turn my head, surveying the full car, only to catch the attention of a guy around my age who seemed to be doing the same. His full pink lips slowly formed a smirk, and his dark brown eyes were full of mischief. He wore a dark maroon colored t-shirt. I found it ironic that it just so happened to highlight the teenage, hormone induced lust that pooled and swirled in his eyes. I gazed passively back. I didn't have the time to be making heart eyes at this guy. I needed to get onto the island, trick my father into letting me see the control center, and erase all of InGen's data. Plain and simple.

This is what I came here for and I fully intended to do the job right.

I quickly step into the isle and exit. Pulling on my sunglasses, I search the boardwalk for a woman holding a sign with my name on it. My mother told me that I'd be meeting up with a woman named Zara while my father had a meeting with Claire Dearing, the park's operations manager. I was supposed to get acquainted at the hotel, then meet him and Claire at the Innovation Center. I'm hoping to get an exclusive tour with Claire. If she was the park's operation manger, then she surely had access to everything, including the bioengineering lab.

I reach the edge of the boardwalk and finally spot a woman holding up a large white sign, but it not only held my name, Marella Masrani, but two others: Zachary and Grayson Mitchell. Narrowing my eyes, I walk over to her, squeezing through the crowd watching as she stood on her tippy toes, tilting her head from side to side to scan the hoard of people.

I poked her to get her attention. "Excuse me, Miss, I'm Marella Masrani." Although her eyes are hidden behind dark tinted sunglasses I can tell she's scanning my face when her head moves a bit. Her eyes trail down my frame, until they stop and make their way back to my face.

"Miss. Masrani," she spoke with a British accent and nodded curtly. "Your Father, Claire and I are happy to have you here." I nodded as if she wasn't lying to me. She couldn't care less about me. She didn't even knew me. "Please wait patiently as we only have to wait for," she pauses, turning the sign around to look at the other names listed on the board, "Zachary and Grayson Mitchell."

Well that shows a lack in character. She couldn't even remember her clients' names. "Speaking of Zachary and Grayson, who are they exactly?" No one, not even my mother, told me that I'd be meeting with anyone else. Trust my father to not keep my mother properly informed.

I hear someone clear their throat from behind me. "Zachary and Greyson? That's us." I hear a guy say. I turn to fine the guy from the train, smirking yet again. Beside him was the blonde boy from earlier, the one who dirtied my favorite converse. The older boy glances at me. "We prefer Zach and Gray, though."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Not only was I on some stupid island because my father wanted to 'rekindle' some lost 'relationship' we never had, I had to spend my stay with them? Great. I pull on the other strap to my bag, blowing a strand of dark hair from my face. This is going to be the longest unwanted trip ever.

"Ready?" Zach asks, bumping me with his shoulder. I glare at my sleeve, wishing that I could burn it right then and there, before directing my attention to a disappearing Zara.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I mummer under my breath.