The Enoch Pill

by Matthew William

  “Oh yes, I do,” Iris said. She got up, scampered across the room, opened a door and walked down a flight of stairs.

  “Do you think that thing is safe?” Diego whispered.

  “I don’t know,” said Kizzy. She looked back out the window. “Maybe we should have stayed in the woods.”

  Iris came back up the stairs and the sound of her footsteps went to the corner. A match was lit and applied to a candle. The room was illuminated with a flickering orange glow and finally Kizzy could get a good look at the machine. She was short, the size of a small woman, and made of smooth overlapped brass. Her movements were human-like. It was no wonder Kizzy had mistaken her for a person. The flickering candle light shimmered off of her shiny metallic body.

  When she noticed Kizzy looking at her, she became embarrassed, as if she was ashamed of her almost too-human form. But she continued around the room, placing the candles on every flat surface: the table, the window sills and a record player.

  The record player reminded Kizzy of Banshee, and Banshee reminded her of all that had happened that day. So much had gone wrong. Her stomach began to churn. If she was going to make it, she needed to learn to ignore what was over and done with. Her eyes needed to be constantly pointed to the future.

  She took the damp map from her pocket and spread it out on the table. “We need to find this place.”

  “What is this?” Diego asked.

  Iris looked over the map. “I never saw it before.”

  “It’s the location of the Enoch headquarters,” Kizzy said. She pointed to where the name of the city used to be, but now it was just a smudge of ink. Her heart sank and her head began to whirl. “The water erased the city name. Do you know what city it was in?”

  Iris shook her head.

  “Is there anyone else who might know?” Kizzy asked.

  “What’s at the Enoch headquarters?” Diego asked.

  “Dr. Enoch and he can help us,” Kizzy said. “He can undo what’s happened.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Diego. “You said Banshee knew where he was.”

  “Well, he does,” snapped Kizzy. “Or he did. And it’s here on this map.” She turned back to Iris. “Is there anyone else around? Someone who might know where this is?”

  “No. I’m all alone here,” Iris said. Her voice was clearly sad. She continued to place the candles around the room. “I have been since the plague.”

  “Then what are you still doing here?” Kizzy asked.

  “Waiting and hoping,” Iris said. “For a long time I thought humans had become extinct. I was created to assist the undertaker, to dispose of all the victims from the plague. But soon everyone had died, even my master. Since then I cremated of all the bodies in this town.”

  “Cremated?” Diego asked.

  Iris’s metallic eyes seemed to glisten with excitement. “I can show you,” she said in a happy tone. She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him down the stairs. Kizzy followed. The steps down to the basement were stone and steep. The air dank and moist.

  Iris held a candle in her hand that lit up the room. At the far end was a large glass tube, up on black iron legs. The tube was connected to a small black engine with a metal pipe that entered the glass. It looked like a glass torpedo.

  “What is it?” Diego asked as Iris brought him closer.

  “The cremator,” she said. “There were so many dead bodies during the plague, they needed to burn them.”

  “Ugh,” said Diego. “That’s disgusting.”

  “No. It wasn’t disgusting,” said Iris. “It was beautiful. In fact, that’s what this house and I were built for.”

  Kizzy felt the cold smooth glass. She imagined her body being burnt away inside, until she was nothing but ash. On the floor she noticed a bucket filled with crow feathers.

  “You took the crows from the fountain?” Kizzy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But why?”

  “I can show you, if you want,” Iris said.

  “No, that’s ok,” said Diego. His face was becoming pale.

  “Don’t be a wimp,” Kizzy said. “Come on let’s see.”

  Iris picked up the bucket and carefully poured the feathers into the glass chamber. She closed the lid and it sealed shut with a suction gasp. She went to the engine and pulled the trigger. Kizzy could hear the plasma inside the engine swirling to life. The device began to chirp, “Beep. Beep. Beep. Boop.”

  The flames erupted from the metallic rod, like a fountain spurting liquid fire. Kizzy looked at Iris’s face. She was smiling like crazy. The flames mushroomed and licked the inside of the glass for a brief moment then stopped. When it was over a few drops of fire dripped from the fountain. Inside the tube the feathers had been converted to a small amount of ash. There was a gasp and the ashes were sucked away, into a receiving container. The sour smell of burnt feathers filled the air.

  “Where’s the gas?” Kizzy asked.

  “It’s hydrogen and plasma powered. No gas needed,” Iris answered proudly.

  “That smell is really strange,” Kizzy said.

  “Imagine a whole body,” said Iris.

  Kizzy shuddered. She thought for a moment. “Can you actually smell?”

  Iris opened to her mouth as if she were about to say something, but then stopped. “Are you two hungry?” She instructed Diego and Kizzy to sit up at the kitchen table, while she took cans of food out from the cupboards one by one.

  “Spiced ham?” she asked.

  “Ugh,” said Diego, sticking his tongue out. “In the church growing up we had to eat canned ham almost everyday.”

  Iris nodded and put the can back. “What about beef soup?”

  Diego looked at Kizzy and shrugged. Kizzy didn’t have any bad memories from that one either. Iris lit the stove and laid the can on the flame to heat it. She strolled over to the cabinet and took an old wine bottle from the shelf and brought it along with two glasses over to the table.

  “Do you have a cork screw?” Diego asked as he took the bottle and blew the dust from it.

  Iris looked through the drawers one at a time, slamming them closed harder and harder as she proved unsuccessful. “It’s not here,” she growled. “It’s not here!”

  “It’s alright,” said Diego. “Geez, take it easy, I’ll just use a knife.”

  He took one from the table and began to carve the cork out from the bottle’s neck.

  Iris looked at him in amazement for a moment, then looked to Kizzy. “He’s so smart, isn’t he?”

  “He’s ok,” Kizzy said. “How long can we hide here?”

  “As long as you want,” Iris said. “There’s plenty of food. We can even look through the other houses.”

  “I really appreciate it,” said Kizzy.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve been of use to anyone,” said Iris. Her eyes looked down at the floor then back up to Kizzy. The brass pupils in her eyes spun the tiniest bit and became almost misted. “I don’t know if I am able to feel depressed. My master used to say it was impossible. But I was designed to derive pleasure from doing my work and from helping people. So if I can’t do my work, if I can’t be of assistance to anyone, then I can’t feel any happiness.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing we’re here then,” said Kizzy.

  “I’ve got it,” said Diego, holding up the opened wine bottle.

  Kizzy took it from him and looked through the dark green glass. The cork bobbed around inside like a severed thumb. “It’s still in there,” she said.

  “Does everything have to be perfect with you?”

  He poured the wine into the two glasses, it’s dark red hue was almost black in the candle light. Iris served them the beef soup in bowls. As soon as Kizzy smelled the savory aroma she remembered how h
ungry she was. She hadn’t eaten a thing all day. She gulped down the beef soup and sipped the wine.

  “Can I play some music?” Iris asked, approaching the record player.

  “Of course,” Kizzy said, filling her bowl again.

  Iris selected an album from a box underneath the table. Taking it from it’s cover she laid it on the turntable and cranked it to life. It began to play a catchy romantic tune from its ancient speakers. The singer’s voice came in, high and wailing. Kizzy’s guts turned to stone.

  “Is this Banshee?” she asked.

  Iris was standing motionless next to the player. She looked down at the album. “Yes it is.”

  “Are you sure?” Diego asked. “I’ve never heard this before. What year is it from?”

  Iris looked back down at the album. “2028.”

  “Before the plague,” said Diego. “I didn’t even know he made music then.”

  Kizzy staggered over to Iris and examined the album cover. Banshee looked so young and innocent. Nothing like the crazed monster she had seen earlier. Nearly all the songs had the word “love” in their titles. She listened to him sing.

  “My love kills me. Where I go it’s always there, I lose sleep. It’s a hunger that never dies, a fiery woman with tiger eyes. My love kills me.”

  Kizzy laughed and looked back to Diego. “Did he just say ‘My love kills me?’”

  Diego chuckled and scrunched his nose. “I think so. Well, he’s improved as a lyricist anyway.”

  Kizzy let album play and ate and drank some more. She found herself smiling as her cheeks turned red. A strange feeling began to swell inside her, as if she had found a family. She gazed at Diego. Something about him made her feel in a way... she couldn’t describe it. It was of a substance she had never known before. It made her feel secure for the first time in ages. Like no matter what were to happen in the coming days she would be content in having the memory of that moment right there. She had never felt like that before. And yet she felt it there, on the other side of the woods, in a place that had terrified her just a day before.

  She peaked back at Diego and wondered if he was feeling the same things. She looked down at the map on the table. It didn’t feel so urgent anymore. She folded it up and put it back in her pocket.

  Iris continued to play the records for them as the hours passed into the night. Kizzy and Diego finished off the bottle of wine and Diego snuck over to the cabinet and stole a second. He put his finger up to his mouth and went “shhh”.

  There was some sort of magic in the air.

  Occasionally Iris would turn and glance at them as the music played, perhaps to see if they were still awake. Soon Kizzy felt her head and eyelids grow heavy. The wine and the music and the candlelight were all whispering her to sleep.

  “You two should get some rest,” Iris said. “However there is only one bed, so you’ll have to share.”

  With heavy feet they followed the robot into the living room and then up a flight of stairs towards the second story loft.

  “My love kills me,” Diego sang to himself and giggled like crazy.

  Kizzy laughed and punched him in the arm. She had never been drunk before, so she had no idea that it made her a little violent.

  Upstairs a small bed sat on the side of the room, covered in a large white quilt. The shadows from the trees outside danced on the floor. The floorboards sagged beneath Kizzy’s feet as she stumbled across the room. She pulled the quilt from the mattress and shook it. A cloud of eighteen years of dust floated in the air. She tossed the quilt back onto the bed, leaning against the bed post as she did so. The heavy wooden beam snapped from the bed frame.

  “I am so sorry,” said Kizzy, the chunk of wood in her hand. She looked back at Iris.

  “There are termites here,” Iris said.

  “Maybe we can help you fix the place up,” Diego said, as he climbed into the bed. “If we’re going to be here for a while.”

  “That would be fine,” Iris said. She brought a candle to the table as Kizzy climbed up into the bed. Diego curled up against the wall.

  “Would you like to have more wine?” Iris asked.

  “No, I think I’m ok,” said Kizzy. “I’m really sorry about the bedpost.”

  “Please don’t mention it again,” Iris said.

  Kizzy nodded.

  “I’ll be in the basement if you need me,” Iris said. She walked back towards the stairs over the creaky floorboards.

  “Iris,” called Kizzy. The android turned. “I just wanted to thank you for everything tonight.”

  Iris nodded in an efficient and robotic way and walked down the steps.

  Diego rolled onto his back. “Kizzy where should I go in my dream?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, where should I dream about? Where’s the happiest place you’ve ever been?”

  Kizzy almost said right then and there in that moment, but she wanted to think of something more creative. There had to be a happier place somewhere.

  “Probably my mother’s beach house,” she answered. “Before I was born.”

  “A beach house huh?”

  Kizzy nodded.

  “What was so special about it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. It was perfect I guess.”

  “Ok, I’ll go there then.” He rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly.

  Kizzy watched the flickering flame burn atop the candle. She wished time could stop, right at that moment. She was safe. And she knew her future was being dragged towards her by time and her peace would be gone. But in that moment everything was alright.

  All of a sudden the flood of realization splashed upon her. She had killed Banshee. Killed him like a dog. And she had robbed the world of all the music he would ever make. And why? To prolong her own life. She wanted to survive, but instead she destroyed. She was chaos personified. Walking, talking, breathing and bringing destruction wherever she went. What would she become?

  She looked out the window and saw the smiling face on the moonlit billboard outside. Dr. Enoch.

  “Take one everyday! #ENOCH”

  The last time she had seen it, he had only been a curiosity. Now he was her only hope. In all his wisdom, he had to have the solutions.

  Kizzy blew out the candle and went to sleep.

  In the middle of the night she awoke, unsure of where she was. The wind blew and whipped against the house outside. The trees bent and cracked. She looked around the room. Iris stood in the doorway. Kizzy’s throat turned to cement. Iris stood perfectly still. Kizzy leaned up on one elbow. Iris seemed to be surprised by this.

  “Iris?” Kizzy asked, very quietly.

  “I’m sorry,” said Iris. “I thought you may have been dead.” She turned and slowly walked back down the stairs.

  Kizzy had trouble getting back to sleep. She tossed and turned for hours but she never fell into a deep slumber. Whenever she dozed off she would awake in a panic and look to the doorway.

  Soon the gray light of morning came. Diego was still fast asleep. Kizzy climbed from the bed and walked downstairs. Iris was in the kitchen emptying a bag full of canned goods into the cupboard. She seemed smaller than Kizzy had remembered.

  “Where did those cans come from?” Kizzy asked.

  “I’ve been taking them from the other houses,” Iris said.

  “We can go and gather more,” said Kizzy. She laced up her boots and they walked through the waist-high weeds to a home across the street.

  “I could never get into this house,” Iris said. She approached the front door and turned the knob, but it was locked. She tried all of the windows. “It is completely locked up.”

  Kizzy picked up a stone from the drive way, marched up to the house and threw it through the window. I
t crashed through the glass and tore the curtains from the wall. She climbed up onto the window sill and kicked away a few sharp shards of glass. Hopping down inside onto the tile floor, she opened the front door for Iris.

  “You destroyed their property,” Iris said.

  “They won’t be upset,” Kizzy said.

  Iris shook her head as she entered the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets.

  Kizzy decided to explore the place a little.

  Next to the refrigerator she opened a door and it led out into a garage. There was an old silver car and spider webs all over the place. To the left was a large stack of chopped fire wood and Kizzy noticed a small ax leaning against it. She glanced back at Iris. Why had she come up into her room last night? As Iris’s back was turned Kizzy grabbed the ax and brought it outside the front door. She would hide it someplace in the loft. Just in case.

  Kizzy wandered upstairs to the second floor. There were three doors to choose from. She took the door to the right. Immediately the smell of something foul and old hit her. What did it come from? There were posters on the wall, an old computer and a bed. Then Kizzy’s heart went frozen in her chest. A dead person was in the bed. They had fallen victim to the plague eighteen years ago. Kizzy stepped back and pulled the door shut. Frantically she searched for a bathroom, it was urgent that she wash her hands. Had she inhaled any of the particles?

  The bathroom was across the hall, but the faucet didn’t turn on. She groaned and scurried around the room looking for water. She noticed the toilet. She lifted the cap from the tank above the bowl and washed her hands in the cool clear water reservoir. Hopefully that would be enough.

  Looking down she noticed that the garbage can next to the toilet was filled with Enoch pill bottles. The containers were nearly identical to the ones she and her mother received from the city, except these had more writing on them. She took a few of them, they were all empty. Had these people flushed them down the toilet? How stupid. No wonder the plague got them. She looked on the back of a bottle: The Enoch Headquarters: 230 East 32nd Street, New York City. Kizzy felt her heart jump. She took the map from her pocket and spread it out over the sink. She put her finger on the star and checked which street it sat on. East 32nd Street. New York City was the mystery city. But where was that?