by A. Giacomi
I’m about to chomp down when Agent Williams pulls out a picture of Cam and places it over his face. My gut heaves but for a whole other reason now. Underneath the mask, I hear Agent Williams pleading, “Control your hunger, Eve. You can do it.”
As I stare at the photo, I lose all desire to eat. Cam’s kind eyes make me forget about feeding. The only thing I feel is love. The next thing I feel is pain. I begin to sob. I am getting really good at this whole sobbing thing; it is becoming a tad embarrassing. I roll off of Agent Williams and curl up into a little ball, trying desperately to make myself as small and invisible as possible. I don’t want him to see my tears; it is appalling enough that he won. He got to me.
A flash of memory comes to me of Cam lying unconscious on the floor of Dr. August’s office. That’s how I left him. That was our farewell. The guilt eats me up inside; my organs turn on me and become this internal zombie that feeds off my sorrow. If the Azrael Virus had a face, it would be smiling. I can feel it enjoying my anger, my sorrow. It is tugging at my humanity, trying to leech the last bit of it from my body, but I refuse to let it win right now.
I feel arms around me. Agent Williams pulls me into this strange embrace that leaves me feeling annoyed and safe at the same time. I want to push him away and tell him I don’t need his stupid hugs, but I don’t want to feel alone in that moment. I pretend that it’s Cam’s arms wrapping around me, and I let the moment happen without interruption.
We are silent except for Agent Williams telling me, “You did good, Eve. You did good.”
CHAPTER FIVE
AGENT WILLIAMS
After our training session, I notify Eve that we have a meeting scheduled with Special Agent Vallincourt. She is less than thrilled, and I try to hide my mutual feelings. He is my superior, after all; I should be respectful, even though we don’t see eye to eye on everything. He has also been fairly lenient lately; I have yet to understand why. My gut tells me that he wants something. People are always oddly sweeter when they want something.
When we arrive at the office doors, Eve freezes up, halting like a statue a few inches from the door handle. I can tell she’s worried that some awful consequences await her. I try to assure her that Vallincourt has no desire to dispose of her. She doesn’t look relieved, but she follows me inside all the same. I don’t tell her that if Vallicourt wanted her dead, she would be, although dead is a fairly relative term in Eve’s case.
I decide to move ahead of Eve and open the door. Perhaps this will help her snap out of it. Once a door is open, it’s a little harder to run the other way without garnering some curiosity. As soon as we enter, Vallincourt greets us. Perhaps he knew all along that we were just outside the doors. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least since eyes are everywhere in our underground facility. I suppose the government doesn’t trust anyone, not even its own people. That is most wise.
“Welcome, Agent Williams and Eve.” He scowls as he says her name, which makes his face look more wrinkled than it already is.
Eve has a seat and watches the floor. I know she wants to say something, but I’m proud to say she keeps her mouth shut.
“What business brings us here today, sir? I assume it pertains to both of us?” I say with some certainty.
“Correct, Agent Williams. I am here to speak about Eve’s first mission in the field.”
I am a little taken aback since Eve has barely begun training. Two sessions are barely enough to call her a full-fledged agent.
“Sir, with all due respect, she’s not ready,” I reply firmly.
He slams his fist on his desk so hard that both Eve and I jump a bit as the thud echoes through the office. He starts to turn red in the face. I suppose his patience is a bit thin now that he has five deaths to tell his superiors about, and it all happened on his watch. I can understand his frustration, but is it really worth risking our prized experiment? Eve can teach us so much about the Azrael Virus. Five lives are gone, and it is a pity, but our mission is bigger than all of them and undeniably more important. We have to protect her.
When Vallincourt composes himself, he begins to speak again in a less irritated manner. It is an odd sight, almost as though he had a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde moment. I have no idea how he can go from looking about ready to explode to smiling again. The sight is unsettling.
“I understand she’s not ready, but we’re out of time, Agent Williams. She will have to learn on the job. I can trust you to train on the go, yes?” I think about that for a moment and nod. What choice do I have?
“Good. Thank you, Agent Williams. Eve, would you be willing to save some lives on our behalf? You’re the most powerful weapon we have. I will brief you quickly on what I need from you, and I’m sure you’ll agree that helping us is in your best interests too.”
Eve stares on blankly as Vallincourt describes the mission. I can’t read her. She seems disinterested. Will she agree to help? Is she angry? Is she hungry? I can’t be sure, so I watch her closely with my hand on my gun as Vallincourt continues.
“Eve, I need you to head down to Mexico with Agent Williams. There seems to be a case of zombies taking over Chichén Itzá in the Yucatán region of Mexico. A bunch of archeologists down there have gone missing. They recently uncovered an underground lair near the Mayan ruins, and that’s when people started disappearing. The locals are saying that the archeologists brought a great evil that hungers for the living. My gut tells me this might all have something in common with the Azrael Virus. I need you two to go down there with a team, and if there are monsters, I need you to quietly dispose of them.”
Eve twitches at the word “monsters.” I suppose I wouldn’t want to be defined as one of those, either.
Vallincourt and I wait for Eve’s answer. She still has that blank look in her eyes, but she holds her head up and tells Vallincourt, “Of course I’ll help. I don’t wish anyone to become a ‘monster’ like me. So when do we leave?” she asks, keeping her voice even.
Vallincourt looks pleased and leans back in his chair gleefully. “You both leave tomorrow. You will have a dozen of our best soldiers accompanying you.”
We both thank Vallincourt for his time and then leave the office in silence. I hate not knowing what Eve is thinking, but I don’t dare ask either. She agreed to help us, and I don’t need her changing her mind. Something about her seems sad, though. I don’t like it, but I can’t help her, either. I’m not sure why I care; she could eat my face off at any moment! We aren’t exactly friends, more like this unintentional dynamic duo.
Eve reaches the door to her room and pauses in front of it. I didn’t think about how awkward this moment would be. She turns towards me. Her eyes are such a dazzling blue. I like it much better when they don’t look like the pits of hell. She points to me and then the door; I nod and start to feel knots in my stomach. Am I nervous? I push my stupid anxiety aside and follow Eve into the room. My hands are sweating, and I rub them on my pant legs to hide my nerves. It is rather odd sharing a room with a very attractive, cannibalistic younger woman you aren’t attached to.
Eve decides to flop down onto her bed; I suppose our training session was slightly tiring. I pull up a chair but try not to sit too close to her. I don’t want to invade her space any longer than I have to.
She closes her eyes. I assumed she would attempt to get some sleep, but although her eyes are shut, she starts up a conversation.
“Agent Williams, what’s Chichén Itzá like? Have you been there before? You see, in university, I was studying to be an archeologist. I have only seen a few pictures of the old ruins but don’t know much about them since my ancient wonders class would have been scheduled for next year. I guess I won’t be finishing that degree, huh?”
She is depressed, I can tell, and I can sympathize. It’s difficult to know that you’ll never reach your goal, never achieve your dreams. That’s a hard blow. I don’t try and tell her, “There,
there,” or, “Maybe someday when you’re cured.” I want to be honest, and realistic about all this. I don’t think she wants me sugar coating the situation anyway. I choose to avoid talking about feelings and focus on talking about our mission.
“Well, I will tell you as much as I know. Chichén Itzá is also called El Castillo, which means The Castle. It was the Capital of Mayan civilization. Archeologists over time discovered the ruins themselves to be a sort of calendar. Now, the Mayan Calendar ended December 21, 2012. I’m sure you remember everyone, even the media, mumbling about the end of the world and all that nonsense, but you see that was the day that these ‘rumors’ about the dead rising began. It was just after that date that the first archeologist disappeared, and the disappearances over the years have reached close to one hundred people. This place might be swarming with zombies by now, so we’ll want to be ready for anything.”
I suggest that Eve get some rest, and she doesn’t fight me on that. She turns away from me and is in a deep sleep in no time. I try to close my eyes as well. Tomorrow could be a very long day.
CHAPTER SIX
EVE
I feel as though I have barely slept an hour when there is a knock on the door. I open one eye to find Agent Williams slumped in a nearby chair. I suppose the bed is big enough for two, but I don’t want to give him any ideas about this little arrangement.
I reluctantly rise from the cloud-like bed and stumble over to the door, trying to comb the tangles out of my hair with my fingers as I approach. Agent Williams begins to stir as I pass him. When I open the door, there stands Dr. August with an eerily large smile. He is a nice man; he just doesn’t smile too often. I’m not sure I like the whole smiling thing. I’m just not used to it, I guess.
He hands me an envelope that he had hidden behind his back, then kisses my forehead and says, “Happy Birthday, Eve!”
I take the envelope and feel a little ashamed that I forgot about my own birthday. I try to hide my confusion with a hug and, “Thank you.”
Behind Dr. August is Jazz, my nurse, or confidant, or whatever else she is supposed to be. She hands me a small gift that is wrapped so pretty it seems like a shame to open it. She greets me with a kiss on each cheek. It all feels so uncomfortable. Firstly, I don’t feel like I deserve a birthday. Secondly, birthdays always place too much attention on me, and I hate for people to fuss over me. Thirdly, these aren’t exactly the people I want to spend my birthday with.
I try to make the best of it by offering Dr. August and Jazz a seat as I open my gifts. Agent Williams greets them groggily. I notice that Dr. August gives me a concerned look as he glances from Agent Williams to myself, and I shake my head enough for him to understand that this isn’t a “cozy” situation. He looks relieved, and I continue to open the cute little package that Jazz brought in. Her grin is almost as big as Dr. August’s. Two people smiling like idiots at you soon makes you feel like a smiling idiot too. My grin can’t be helped as I rip apart the mermaid paper and then slide off the teal ribbons that hold the tiny box together. Inside the box, there is a small coin. I glance up at Jazz, waiting for an explanation. She gladly tells all without me asking the question.
“You see, it’s a penny but not just any penny. That one there comes from The Fountain of Trevi in Rome. I stole a few from there when no one was looking. There’s something magical about the wishes that fill that fountain. I took a few of those wishes to give out to others. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to holding a wish in your hand. Get it?”
I nod. Jazz is a special kind of thinker. When I first met her, I pondered if her brain was made up of gumdrops and unicorns. That being said, there are worse people than those who believe in magic. There is nothing bad about Jazz; she is simply too nice, a sort of nauseating nice. I thought that would make me hate her, but the more I am around her, the more she begins to rub off on me.
I thank Jazz with a big hug and then turn my attention to the envelope that Dr. August brought in with him. When I slide the contents into my hand, I gasp involuntarily and drop them to the ground.
Dr. August looks hurt but begins to apologize, “I’m so sorry, Eve. You don’t like them. I suppose it was in poor taste…”
I pick up the photos quickly. “No, no, Dr. August. I just…I just never thought I would see them again, and yet here they are in my hands.”
I want to cry as I glance at the first picture. Cam and Alex are at our favourite park in Little Lake, sitting by the water eating their ice cream as if I’m not missing. It is touching seeing them continue our little tradition, even though it is without me. In the next picture, Alex is rollerblading next to Cam; they even brought Alex’s little sister Janna along, who is also rollerblading. They all look so happy frozen in time, and I am so happy just to observe them. The final picture is of Cam helping Alex take off her rollerblades. The photo looks so intimate, and a surge of jealousy pulses through me. I grip the photo harder but try to hide the hurt in my face. It is silly of me to judge them for getting closer to one another. It is even sillier to think I can stake some claim in Cam when I will never even see him again.
Tears roll down my face, but I convince everyone that they are tears of joy, that I am happy to see my friends again, even if only in a photograph. I thank Dr. August and Jazz and then turn to Agent Williams, who stands at the door looking rather guilty of something.
“Now, Eve, I know you’re low key, but no birthday is complete without a little cake.”
And with that statement, he opens the door. In glides a stunning three-tiered cake complete with sparklers on top. The chef rolls it into the room on a cart, and my eyes well up with tears all over again. I glance at Agent Williams, who looks very proud of himself. I could just hug him for this, but I fear a hug will make me care for him, and I can’t have that.
I watch the sparklers until they go out. Once the light is gone, I study the cake and pout.
Agent Williams comes over and asks, “Eve, what’s wrong?”
I laugh in a cheerless way and tell him, “I can’t eat that. I mean, I don’t eat that anymore.”
He pulls me closer to him and whispers, “I know that. The cake is not a cake.”
I think he is getting all René Magritte on me, but then I realize that he is serious. My hand plows through the icing of the gigantic cake to find animals living inside. I can smell their fear, and yet they can’t move; they are oddly still.
Agent Williams answers the question that plagues my mind. “Eve, we had to drug them with a combination of narcotics so that they would hold still. Some of that will still be in their blood stream, so you might feel a little buzz afterwards, like a slight food coma, but nothing permanent. So dig in.”
My nostrils flare as I smell the fresh and helpless meat. I startle my three guests when I yell and ask them to leave me be. I’m not sure I could distinguish between human and animal if I get too crazy. I can’t be trusted when my hunger takes over, and I refuse to allow anyone else in this facility to die by my hand. Once they are out, I devour the tiny animals one by one. I tear into them with my teeth, letting the blood slosh in my mouth and pour down my face with each chomp. It is so satisfying that I feel dizzy. Perhaps the drugs have something to do with it, but I begin to smear the blood all over myself as if I am bathing in it. Something about the warmth of it feels so natural to me. As I finish off the last little being, I press my back to the ground and lay in the puddle of blood I have created. I begin spreading my arms and legs back and forth, creating a blood angel, not as adorable as when it’s done in snow, but I giggle with enough nostalgia to make me feel five again.
***
The time has come to depart. The cleanup crew is none too impressed with my birthday shenanigans, but I don’t feel very apologetic about it. In fact, I even catch Agent Williams grinning as they grumble about the mess I made. Clearly, he doesn’t find it gross.
As I stare at my little suitc
ase, it brings me such anxiety that my entire body shakes. I am going to be an agent or at least play pretend that I am. I know Vallincourt thinks I am an asset, but I’m not convinced that I will be of much help. If anything, he’ll be lucky to hear that I only ate a few people while out and about.
We take a black stretch limo to our private jet. These CSIS agents sure know how to travel. I feel slightly ritzy as we drive along and try not to roll down any windows and ask for some “Grey Poupon” from the cars driving next to us. That won’t be very mature or agent-like. So I keep my mouth shut until we reach the airport.
When we arrive at the airport, I am surprised to see that we are on the tarmac. No security clearance, no baggage drop off, simply greetings from the flight staff and a, “Go on and board the plane. Refreshments await.” It feels as though I am in a movie or something, but the magic fades when I realize that we are not alone. On board, there are a dozen soldiers as promised. All of them look as large as pro wrestlers, except for one man sitting at the very back. He is a slimmer build, but I can tell that every inch of him is solid; he is busy reading something on his laptop while the other soldiers sit chatting and laughing. I know immediately that he is in command. The very serious authority figures never have much time for friends and mingling.
When they finally acknowledge us, the entire plane goes silent. I can feel them analyzing me. They know what I am. None of them is smiling now. Good, wouldn’t want anyone getting too comfortable around me. It is safer if they stay afraid.
Agent Williams introduces us, and every soldier stands to salute us, except for their leader. He walks up to us and shakes our hands as he introduces himself as Major Tom Wolfe.