Eve and the Faders

by Berneta L. Haynes

"She never said much to me and mostly kept to herself," said Kara, looking concerned. "But I never would've thought she was capable of this."

  Rachel, sitting across from her, nodded.

  The camera turned to the anchor who went on to describe Eve's attire and to encourage anyone with information to call a hot-line number listed at the bottom of the screen. Mauricio switched off the television and looked at Eve.

  "I swear there was no footage of me entering or leaving that bank. I was invisible the whole time and, besides, I was wearing the other face. There's no way I was seen." She groaned. "It was the weird nature of it all—you know, money disappearing into thin air. That's what put SPI on my scent. Now they're leaking lies to find me."

  "Are you sure you were invisible the whole time?"

  "Positive. And black spandex running pants? I don't own spandex running pants. Plus, you saw me yesterday. I wasn't wearing spandex!"

  Mauricio surveyed her. "You'd look good in spandex."

  "I should've seen this coming. I should've known they'd figure it out."

  "Eve?"

  "They've ruined me." If I had just stopped myself from walking into that bank. If I'd just gone straight to the coffeehouse like planned. Tears filled her eyes and rained down her cheeks as she stared at her silhouette reflected on the television screen. She slapped her face again and again.

  "Eve?"

  She struck her face over and over as if doing so would knock her back in time and undo what she'd done. "Stupid," she said, slapping her face so hard that it sounded like the cracking of a whip. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

  Mauricio grabbed her wrists before she could hit herself again. "Eve, look at me. It's going to be all right. We'll get through this. Okay?"

  Sniffling, she snatched her hands away from him. As she wiped her face, she went to the bathroom and stared in the mirror. Deep brown eyes looked back at her, accented by long lashes.

  "Eve?"

  One at a time, she wished each of her features into nonexistence, picturing the redhead she'd seen in the mirror.

  Mauricio stood at the bathroom door and watched her. "Eve, please."

  Within moments, the redhead was staring back at her. The face of freedom. Frowning, she patted her rosy cheeks dry and turned to him. "I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."

  ***

  After lunch, they sprawled out on the bed and gazed at the cottage cheese ceiling. The muted television flashed now and then.

  "I miss my family," he said, interrupting the silence.

  "Are you married?"

  "Fourteen years. Elisa and I were friends in high school. Not long after we started dating, she got pregnant. So we did what any good little Catholics would do—we got married. We were eighteen."

  "Wow. Fourteen years?"

  "Yeah. She used to drive me crazy. Nagging, picking fights. It was constant. She hadn't wanted to marry me, you see. But she couldn't say no to her parents. And she was pregnant—what would people think about her? Through all of it, we stayed together, and the babies kept coming. Three kids back to back, all girls. When my youngest was born, Elisa got herself fixed."

  "How did SPI pull you in?"

  "Just like they did you. Offered me a job with a salary I couldn't afford to turn down. But when I backed out of it after a year—"

  "They came for you?"

  He averted his gaze. "I had no chance to say goodbye or anything."

  “They wouldn’t let you see your family?”

  “Agent Grobeck didn’t trust me not to try to run with them. Probably thought I’d try to flee the country with them.”

  Eve nodded. “Well, who wouldn’t do that?”

  “Exactly,” said Mauricio. “So they provided me an apartment, basically confined me to it when I wasn’t working. He made sure to remind me that he’d harm my family if I tried to get away.”

  “Wow. So that’s what was in store for me,” she replied, shaking her head. “Grobeck said they didn’t used to use soft recruiting methods, like these job offers. He said it was a new thing they were trying out because Agent Yu recommended it. But you said they offered you a job...”

  “After me, Agent Grobeck switched back to harder methods. Capture, brainwash. That sort of thing.”

  “Did it work?” Eve stared at him, thinking about the horrors that others like her may have endured.

  “Disappearing people and torturing is rarely a way to get people on your side. You’d think a man like Grobeck would be smart enough to know that, huh?”

  She nodded. “Can I ask why you risked it now? Couldn’t he still hurt your family now that you’ve gone AWOL?”

  “My wife and kids are out of the country, out of his reach. It took me a while, keeping it off the radar, but I made sure of that.”

  She placed her hand on top of his, and he looked at her with watery eyes. "We'll figure out a way for you to get back to your wife and kids."

  "I think about them every day."

  As she nodded, she caught a glimpse of the clock. "We should get going before it gets dark. I saw a Walmart a mile or so north. We need to pick up a few things."

  "You mean steal things? Like you stole all that money?" He gestured at the bag sitting next to the desk.

  "I wasn't planning on it, but now that you mention it..." She stood. "Sure."

  He shook his head in disappointment.

  "What's the big deal?"

  "It's illegal," he said, shooting her a reprimanding look.

  "You're going to lecture me on legality?" Eve's forehead creased, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "You killed a guy recently, remember?"

  He didn't look at her. "All right. What are we stealing?"

  She grabbed her backpack and jacket off the chair and headed to the door. "Weapons, a change of clothes, among other things."

  "I like the way you think."

  "Good, because I know jack shit about guns or weapons in general. And seeing as how you shot and killed a man from at least twelve feet away, I'm assuming you know a lot about guns. So, I need you to teach me."

  "You know I'm not proud of what I did."

  “I spent my whole life doing the right thing, trying not to cause waves. Look at where I am.” Eve shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "You did what you had to do."

  ***

  Stately white oaks, northern red oaks, and bur oaks crowded the dewy forest that lay just north of a narrow stream. Wind swept through the snow-covered branches. Mauricio and Eve had settled on a cozy spot deep in the forest, tucked far away from the road.

  "Don't I need safety goggles and earplugs? Don't people usually wear that stuff for protection at gun ranges?" asked Eve, trying to remember the times her father had gone to the gun range. He never took her with him, but she recalled him packing up a lot of gear in a duffel bag.

  He handed her the big Men in Black sunglasses he'd stolen from the store. "Sure. But we don't have any of that. So, you'll wear my sunglasses. And I'll cover your ears with my hands. You'll be fine. But, first, promise me something. After this, you'll tell me the real reason you chose to use the name Res Adler."

  "Why are you so hung up on that?"

  "Because I may not know you very well, but I can tell when you're withholding something. Your left eye does a twitchy thing when you're not telling the truth. It's actually kind of cute." He smiled. "So? Do you promise?"

  "Sure. Whatever."

  "Great, then let's get started." He began by teaching her how to hold the GLOCK 26.

  This task took longer than either of them expected.

  "Now extend your finger straight and lay it flat on the side of the trigger guard. Just like that. You want to keep your finger outside the guard. Just relax." He watched her hand tremble. With a reassuring smile, he placed his hand over hers. "Whenever you handle a gun, make sure the barrel is pointed downward, clear of people. Keep it pointed downward unless you're ready to shoot. Do not point or fire upwards, ever. If you fire upwards, the bullet may injure someone when i
t comes down."

  "Right. Okay."

  "Now, let's work on the firing-ready position."

  For hours, he trained her on how to hold the gun, how to lock and unlock it, load bullets into the chambers, aim, and shoot without losing her balance from the powerful kickback. They only went through one box of bullets, anxious to avoid arousing any unwanted attention. Although the forest was vacant, they were not terribly far from the road.

  "I'll never be any good at this," she moaned, handing him the gun. “Maybe if SPI had put me in weapons training...”

  “They have different tracks for the trainees. I’m guessing they didn’t expect you to engage in direct combat of any sort. Although, I still think it’s stupid not to make sure each operative has at least some basic comfort in weapons handling.” He sighed. "But it’s not exactly a bad thing to never be good at shooting." He aimed at a slender oak branch a few feet away. When he fired, the bullet pierced the branch, sending tiny flakes of bark flying this way and that. Slowly, the thin branch bent, snapped, and fell to the ground.

  "That man wasn't the first person you killed, was he?"

  "No."

  She looked sideways at him. "How many?"

  "Three," said Mauricio, after a short pause.

  "You were ordered to kill them?"

  "Yes, if necessary."

  "It was necessary to kill Salazar?"

  "Salazar was a monster. His company specializes in biological and chemical weapons manufacturing."

  "Wait...what?" She turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"

  "One of his weapons is called A2-10. Do you know what it does?"

  "No."

  "It melts flesh. It melts flesh from the inside out. I'm guessing SPI didn't tell you anything about this weapon or about the company."

  She shook her head.

  "I studied him and researched the company. Took me a while, but it wasn't hard to piece it all together."

  "So is that what's on the flash drive? Information about that weapon?"

  "I don't think so."

  She stared at him blankly. "Then what's on the flash drive?"

  "I wish I knew. I haven't been able to open the safe box."

  "Okay. Just so I'm clear, you killed Salazar so that you could take the safe—i.e. the flash drive—and keep it from SPI? Because you didn't trust SPI anymore? But you don't know what's even on the flash drive?"

  "Yeah, in a nutshell.”

  “Agent Grobeck never asked you about the safe?” she asked. “Weren’t you supposed to give it to him?”

  “I told him I’d failed to acquire it. That it wasn’t in Salazar’s office.”

  Eve nodded.

  “Anyway, let's get back to what we're out here for," he said. He raised the gun and pointed it straight ahead. "Look at how I'm holding the gun. You want to hold it with both hands like this at all times—"

  "How did you learn how to use a gun? Did SPI teach you?"

  "My brother taught me. We hunted with my father when we were teenagers. He taught me how to use a hunting knife, a rifle, a shotgun. The three of us took a hunting trip every year."

  "Sounds nice."

  "It was," he said, smiling. "We were close. What about you and your family?"

  "Only child. My dad was an abusive asshole, and my mom never left him. You know, the typical story."

  "Oh," said Mauricio, pointing the gun downward and glancing at her. "Sorry to hear that."

  She shrugged, watching him disassemble the gun and slip it inside the backpack before he removed the small green and silver pocketknife. "At least I learned how to fight and run when necessary. That's the one thing he taught me."

  He snorted. "Glass half full, eh?"

  "I guess so. Are you going to teach me how to use that thing?"

  Mauricio looked at the pocketknife and turned it over in his hand. "This is a one-blade jackknife. Pretty simple. Handy for camping, fishing, that sort of thing. There's not much to teach you except how to open and close it." He opened the knife, and she stared at the blade until he closed the knife again. He repeated this a couple of times. "It's simple. But you have to be careful not to cut yourself, obviously. I can't say a pocketknife is the best weapon. Really, it's just a tool, and that's how you should view it. You never really want to be close enough to be able to use a knife, if you ask me. But, as far as weapons go, it's better than nothing. It'll be handy in a crisis if you ever need to cut some rope or MacGyver yourself out of a jam. Here, get a feel for it. You want this thing to be sort of an extension of yourself." He closed the knife and handed it to her.

  Eve's fingers glided over the smooth green and silver handle.

  "Tell me about this Res Adler. I'm guessing that's the name of someone you know. She meant a lot to you, didn't she?"

  "How do you figure that?"

  "I have a hunch."

  "Oh, okay, Perry Mason."

  "You're evading the question."

  "We dated. That's all. Res is her middle name."

  "I see. Your first love?"

  "Something like that. We broke up in college, and she went and married a guy. You know, the typical story."

  He chuckled. "I see. It must've been serious if you’ve taken to using her name."

  Eve closed the knife and turned to Mauricio, her face bright red.

  He threw his hands up in surrender. "All right. I won't press anymore."

  "Good. Finish telling me about the uses of a knife."

  With another lingering look at her, he cleared his throat once more and launched into a brief tutorial about how to use the knife.

  After she opened and closed it a few times, an idea struck her. She pulled the tiny safe box from her backpack and, using the knife, tried to pick the lock.

  "Here," said Mauricio, reaching for the box and knife. "Let me try." He sat on the tree stump next to her and picked at the lock.

  "It's not going to work, is it?"

  He groaned, closing the knife. "It was worth a shot. We'll figure it out later." He returned the knife and box to her bag. "Let's head back to the motel."

  ***

  Lying on the bed and staring out the window, Eve figured she would've traded anything to remain in this position all day, relaxing and not worrying about anything. Yet her mind was preoccupied with thoughts about SPI, about what they might do if they found her. She was tired of thinking. Tired of worrying. Tired of everything. She just wanted to lie perfectly still in total silence.

  Mauricio sat next to her. "Guess what? One of the faders was given an assignment in Philadelphia. We need to get to her before she finishes it and returns to them."

  "Back up. A fader?"

  He appeared confused. "What? You called it—the ability—'fading'. I assumed it only made sense to call those who have it 'faders'."

  "Okay. But how'd you know one was assigned something in Philly? You didn’t use the computers in the lobby to search, did you?"

  "I was discreet," he replied.

  An uncertain look highlighted her face, and she wondered why he was being so short with his words.

  "Hopefully, she'll still be in Philadelphia when we get there. How we'll find her is anyone's guess, though."

  "She's one of the trainees?"

  "Yes. Last name Taylor. She goes by—"

  "AJ?"

  "Yeah."

  Eve dug inside her pack for one of the cheap prepaid cell phones she'd bought at the Walmart. "I can call..." Trailing off, she closed her eyes and cursed herself. "Damn. I don't remember her number. It was saved in my old phone."

  Oh God, do I remember Zoey's number? She closed her eyes and sighed with relief as the numbers appeared in her mind, etched there as if they'd always been there. Besides her own phone number, Zoey’s was the only number she remembered. Shouldn't she call Zoey and Gabe? At least let them know she was fine? But what would I say to them? How could I explain any of it without putting them in the middle of this shit? What if SPI is watching Zoey and Gabe? She shook her h
ead. No, she couldn't call them. Not yet.

  "Eve? You all right?"

  "Sorry, yeah, I'm fine. I think it's time for us to follow up with Agent Yu. She'll know more about AJ's whereabouts. After the call, we should head out."

  "Right now?"

  She nodded. "I know it's only been a couple of nights, but we need to get far away from here, meaning we might as well get started on our way to Philly. The next Greyhound is in a couple of hours. I checked yesterday."

  He ran his hand through his hair. "I know I've asked before, but do you think Agent Yu will cooperate with us? I mean, it's not like we can actually make good on our threat since we're not in Chicago."

  "The thing is she doesn't know we're not in Chicago."

  He smiled. "Good point."

  Rising from the bed, Eve yawned and stretched. She lumbered to the bathroom and turned on the shower to let the water warm up. "I'm going to get cleaned up, and then we can make the call and go. We’ll have to wait a while so they can check the room and give us our deposit back." As she prepared to undress, she stopped and stared at herself in the mirror. The unfamiliar face slowly disappeared, replaced by her own. She swept her palms over her cheeks, through her hair, and gazed at her reflection.

  "You spend a lot of time looking at yourself. It's not healthy," said Mauricio, lingering in the bathroom doorway.

  "Thanks for the advice I totally didn't ask for."

  "I'm saying you look fine to me. And if we make it through this, you won't have to wear the other face anymore. I can see how much it bothers you." He leaned against the doorframe. "Is this her face? Res Adler's?"

  Eve laughed. "No. Quite the opposite, actually."

  "Okay. Because that would've been extra weird," he said, smiling. "Do you have any contact with her?"

  Eve exhaled and decided to tell the truth. "Yes, and more than anything I want to call her, hear her voice."

  "Does that mean she divorced her husband?"

  Eve shook her head.

  "Oh, they separated."

  She turned to him and smiled. "No."

  "Wait. So then—"

  "Mauricio, stop asking so many questions."

  He chuckled. "All right. I'm fascinated that a woman like you would settle for being the 'other woman'. That's all."

  "A woman like me?" asked Eve, her eyes wide.