Fear Me Not (The EVE Chronicles) Page 19

  “Alexandra?”

  I go stiff at the name. The woman nods, smile growing.

  “Yes! I thought you looked familiar! You…you’re Alexandra’s daughter, aren’t you? You’re the spitting image of her.”

  The other two women join in, one pressing her hand to her mouth.

  “Oh my god, you’re right. I thought Jon was joking when he said her daughter was an EVE.”

  Dakota shifts uneasily next to me, as if holding something in. I set my grimace.

  “So what?” I say. “I’m an EVE. I’m feeding Gutters. Would you stop to buy a starving man a burger? It’s the same thing.”

  The first woman laughs. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend you’re being charitable. They pay you like princes.”

  “It’s easier to admit Alexandra’s daughter succumbed to greed than to the taint of the aliens,” Another sneers. “You’re a disgrace to her name.”

  “And you’re insane cultists,” I hiss back. Dakota pulls at my sleeve, a pained look on her face.

  “The light’s green. Let’s just go.”

  I stride after her, white stripes of the crosswalk flashing under my shoes and fury splintering red-hot in my EVE organ. What do they know? They know nothing of how much Mom’s hate made us suffer. Made me suffer.

  I drop the flyer in the street for the cars to run over.

  On the day the buses return from the ceremony of flame, I wait in the driveway. The cold is bitter, but refreshing. Other people waiting toss snow at each other. There’s someone in a hoodie a distance away, digging around. Probably lost an earring in a snowball fight. Eventually, Shadus’ friends and Dakota join me. The buses pull up and Gutters pour out. EVEs snicker about how the Gutters look - glowy and infinitely pleased with themselves. The teachers pretend not to notice, waving at their returning Gutter colleagues.

  Raine trots over in billion inch heels and hugs me around the neck. She smiles at Dakota and kisses her on the cheeks like she’s a fancy lady. Shadus’ friends watch us with shocked expressions. Raine finger-waves at them.

  “You four must be Shadus’ posse he can’t stop talking about.”

  “Yeah.” Nate puffs his chest, blush evident. “Name’s Nate. Nice to meet you.”

  Even Aiden is falling over himself to shake Raine’s hand. Hailey says something about her shoes, but I don’t hear it properly - craning my neck to see the other Gutters coming. Taj and I lock eyes for a second. He gives a curt nod, and I nod back. His Adjudicator friends call him over. Shadus looks the same, dark hair mussed and long legs carrying him through the crowd with ease. He hoists his backpack higher and blows hot air on his hands.

  “There’s lizard-boy.” Nate points. Serena squeals. Raine, Dakota, and I watch as the posse dashes towards Shadus like some old-timey movie reunion in a field of flowers. Nate punches him in the shoulder. Hailey grabs one arm, and Serena the other. Aiden pushes up his glasses and asks serious questions. Shadus blushes and snaps at him to mind his own business. Aiden and Nate snicker.

  “They’re puke-worthy. Who does the running-at-you-with-my-arms-spread thing anymore, anyway? I’ll tell you who - overeager weirdos,” I say.

  “So says the girl who’s smiling and standing on her toes,” Dakota sighs. I look down and flatten my feet.

  “They were cold,” I grumble.

  “Uh-huh.” Raine smiles, unconvinced, and waves to Shadus. “Do you want the details now, or later?”

  “You didn’t,” I gasp.

  “Sotho are forbidden from mingling with other sotho. But I’ve heard the stories at breakfast.” She winks.

  “I don’t need to hear the ‘stories’. I don’t even care.”

  “You haven’t taken your eyes off of Serena’s hand on Shadus’ arm.” She singsongs. “I think you careeee.”

  “Don’t care,” I grit out and tear my gaze from them. Raine’s glossed lips twist into a smile as she shrugs. Serena starts chasing Nate around with snowballs for something he said, Hailey in close pursuit. Shadus walks over to us with Aiden. He nods.

  “Dakota.”

  “W-Welcome back.” Dakota smiles. He looks to me.

  “Victoria.”

  “‘Sup Creeps?” I force the casual tone. He gives me a disbelieving smile. “What? Is there something on my face?”

  “Other than the usual blank look of stupidity?” He asks. “No.”

  “Nice to see you too, beh-rak,” I snap.

  “Oh, so you picked up a little swearing in Rahm? Don’t expect me to be impressed.”

  “Don’t expect a hug, lizard-face.”

  “I know better.” He grins. Aiden flashes me a thumbs up of insult-approval. Dakota is deep in conversation with Raine about a Chem test. Shadus doesn’t move to join them - instead standing by me on the curb. Side by side like this, I can feel the heat from his every exhale, white clouds puffing into the air. His nose is red with cold, and when I almost catch his eye he rivets his gaze to the sky and pretends to be interested in the non-existent sun. Or a treetop. Anything. Anything other than me.

  “Uhm,” I lick my lips. “I guess it’d be dumb to ask how it was?”

  “A little dense, yes,” He agrees shortly. “How have you been?”

  “Good.” I nod. Busy seeing your head on top of magazine model bodies with girls draped all over you, but good nonetheless. The mental image still squeezes a laugh out of me.

  “Is something humorous?” He quirks an eyebrow. His voice spills from the mouth of the bastardized Shadus in my head. I cover my face with my hand.

  “I-I’m sorry.” The laughter shakes my shoulders. “Your manboobs are way too big for me to take you seriously.”

  “My what?” I can hear the bewildered smile in his tone. “B-Boobs? I don’t have…those.”

  I feel Raine’s gentle hand on my back. She pulls my hair off my shoulders and winks over my neck at Shadus.

  “This is what they call jealousy, Shadus. It does horrible things to the human mind - warps it like no other. She’s perfectly sane, I promise, if a little transparent.”

  “Go away!” I snap, and she trills a laugh and walks back to Dakota. Shadus coughs, and stares out at the lawn.

  “If you must know, I didn’t like the ceremony as much as I did other years. It felt…different. Strangely empty,” He mutters. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what it means. All I know is those few words send a blanket of warmth through my chest despite the cold air. Before I know what I’m doing, my arms are laced around his torso in a hug.

  I can feel his muscles go still beneath me. Raine’s voice cuts off, and Dakota’s follows suit. Are they staring? I don’t care. Let them. I tighten my grip around his waist and murmur into his chest, the faux-fur collar of his jacket tickling my nose.

  “I missed you.”

  There’s a beat in which I think he’ll push me away like he did in the library. Like I deserve. His hand slowly raises -

  The scream is a needle stab in my ears, piercing through soft brain flesh and the soft moment. It rips us apart, I step back and he steps back. The screams come from Serena collapsed in snow. Nate helps her up, the others watching where she’s pointing with wide eyes. Hailey vomits. The teachers sprint over, curious crowd close behind. Nate scrabbles for his cellphone as we run up.

  “Serena, what’s wrong?” Aiden shakes her shoulders and looks where her gaze is riveted, glazed and terrified. He gags and starts to dry heave into the snow.

  Shadus sees it first. He pivots and puts himself between the sight and me. “Don’t look.”

  “What is it? Is it a dead animal or something?” I look up at him. Dakota’s face goes white when she sees it, and Raine lets out a strangled gasp. The teachers start ordering everyone to back up. Screams ricochet off frozen trees. I crane my neck over Shadus’ shoulder. A cavern of snow oozes blood, red and pinks spreading through each crystal. The heat of the blood melted the snow around it - crimson slush clotting dark and a pale dead hand reaching for help that will never come. A mass of
hair, long and dark, the strands weaving through pieces of jagged skull. Gray eyes, glassy and eerily lit by the sun off the snow. The dead Gutter is the Illuminator - one half of the talked-about couple with the human boy.

  ***

  The lockdown lifts when the body is carted away. The police car lights rotate in ruby and sapphire long through the night. The yellow crime scene tape flutters in the brewing storm wind. ‘FBI’ stands out in stark white letters on jackets. Forensics trudges around in their rubber boots and plastic caps, picking things up with tweezers and putting placards by points of interest. Camera bulbs flash. The bloody snow goes in bags they take with them. Traces of its pink can still be seen. Teachers and students and Gutters alike gather at the edges of the crime scene tape.

  Raine stares out our room window, fingers pressed to the cold glass.

  “When a Gutter dies, it is said their spirit goes home to our planet to live with the goddesses.”

  The image of the body is seared in my mind. White on red on empty eyes. Raine’s fingers curl, her nails scratching the pane.

  “Is it terrible to say I envy her?” She laughs, low, and stops. Her hot breath clouds the glass as she chokes on the words. “Is it terrible to say I want to go home, too?”

  10. The Lovers

  Gutters don’t have elaborate memorial services, or funerals. To Gutters, death is just a release, a freeing of the spirit. The Illuminator who was killed has her picture in a hall alcove, a small table laden with candles and flowers where people can say goodbye to her physical self in their own way. Her EVE boyfriend stands in front of it listlessly, looking above it. Away from it. His eyes are sunken and no one has the guts to meet his hollow gaze. Even if it was a teenage romance, it meant something to him. Even if she was a lizard alien on the inside, she meant something to him.

  It’s my turn to pretend to be drained.

  Yulan’s supposed to operate on me. But instead, I just spend the night in his office, like I’m recuperating. It’s a farce, but it helps keep up appearances, as Yulan’s so fond of saying.

  I wake up in the middle of the night - it’s dark outside. In the next room a single desk lamp is lit. Yulan bends over papers, checking them off, flipping through and back again. He drinks dregs of jyulo – a diluted emotion drink much like coffee - and rubs his eyes. The long ponytail down his back is tangled. His fingers are stained with ink.

  “Doc?” My voice is a croak. He looks up, and stands.

  “Victoria. You shouldn’t be walking -”

  “I’m fine. What time is it?’

  He steers me by the shoulders to sit in a chair. The clock reads four in the morning. I smile groggily.

  “You ever sleep, doc?”

  “I am prone to insomnia. Tonight is a particularly brutal night.”

  “You probably worry too much about stuff.” My arms feel heavy. I fold them in my lap.

  “I have to, Victoria. We are at a very vital stage of the process.”

  “Process?”

  “The process of stopping the war.”

  “You think there will really be one?”

  Yulan leans back, pen on his lips. “Yes. No. Perhaps. I don’t want there to be one, but my intuition tells me there will be one. It’s been a long time coming. Gutters may pretend to be perfectly in control, but we are a combat-prone race. We enjoy confrontation. It’s a miracle we’ve been able to bow our heads to the humans for this long at all.”

  He goes back to the stack of papers. The silence must be too much for him, because he flips the TV on and keeps working. News. Not even the anchor’s toupee can distract me from his words.

  “The tragic incident at the nation’s first human-alien integrated school is starting to draw doubts from experts. The murder of a young Gutter at Green Hills High School is throwing into question everything the government is - and isn’t - doing to protect both species. With me today is -”

  Yulan abruptly turns the TV off again. The space between his brows grows pinched.

  “Do the Gutters have murder?” I ask softly.

  “Every species does, I suppose. After Adjudicators conduct an investigation and find they are truly guilty, the murderer is property of the Executioners. Their torture is dragged on longer the more severe the sentence. Some are tortured for their remaining lifespan, never allowed the release of death.”

  The medical machines beep.

  “You should get more sleep, Victoria,” Yulan suggests.

  “Why kill that specific Illuminator? The only thing she did was -”

  “Engage in an open relationship with a human,” Yulan interrupts. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes wearily. “This is not a random act of hate driven by fear. It is a carefully calculated strike, a statement.”

  “The mharata?”

  He shakes his head. “No. Someone far more intimidating, I’m afraid.”

  “Jerai?”

  Yulan shoots me a sharp look. “Jerai is many things, but he would never resort to senseless murder.”

  Chastised, I look at my feet. I forgot how much Yulan respects Jerai, despite how shitty he is to him.

  “Is it a teacher, or a student?” I ask.

  “We don’t know. I would say a Gutter, personally. However, I don’t know for sure. The police are handling it from here.”

  “That’s no excuse!” I grip the sides of my chair. “We can’t let this shit happen again right under our noses!”

  Yulan’s gray eyes have a smile in them. “It is not your place to worry about such things. Leave it to us. It’s your job focus on zol, and nothing else.”

  “Because that’s all I am. A weapon,” I say bitterly.

  “No, because that is the most important thing right now. You are the most important thing right now. So take care of yourself. For our sake, if not your own.”

  His pen scratches across paper. I get up and pat him on the back.

  “Sleep, doc.”

  I push the curtain to the back room aside and crawl into my bed. A few minutes later I hear the curtain move, weak light from the office streaming in. Yulan stands in the doorway. I sit up.

  “Doc?”

  “Does Raine…” Yulan trails off, then shakes his head and makes to leave. “Nevermind. It was foolish of me.”

  “Wait, what was? You can ask me, doc.”

  Yulan wages some internal war with himself that shows clearly on his distraught face, but finally he exhales.

  “Does Raine speak of me at all? You are close to her, so I assumed –” He shakes his head again. “Please, forget what I just said. I am being nonsensical.”

  I watch him return to the desk and work until my eyes grow too heavy to keep open.

  ***

  Principal Freeson’s speech is strained. He struggles with the words on paper he’d prepared. He finally gives up and rubs his hand over his face.

  “There is nothing wise to say about death. It happens. The tragedy is that we never expected it to happen here. You are all wonderful students, each with your differences. It is those differences that make us stronger, but it appears someone does not care for them.”

  He inhales. The police chief, an older man with graying hair, puts his hand on his shoulder. The principal steps down and makes way for him at the podium.

  “We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again,” The chief booms. “If you have any information regarding this event, even the slightest odd sighting, please report it to one of our officers. Thank you again for your cooperation.”

  In PE, I pick at my sweatsuit. The yellow field grass crinkles under my feet. The sky is gunmetal gray, washed by a pale sun. The football track is scattered with our running class. A few of Shadus’ friends are in my class too - Serena waves and Nate thumps my back as he passes on his last lap. I sigh and start to jog. Raine is all smooth strides ahead of me.

  Dakota lags with me, neither of us athletic - her body too stocky and me with no muscles. The only people slower are a fat EVE who wheezes behind me. I peel
off to catch my breath. Dakota doubles over beside me, panting.

  “Freaking hate running,” I puff. “Hate it more than history. More than cooking class. I’m ready to trip purposely and get some blood going. Targe will let me off if there’s blood, right?”

  Dakota laughs, gulping air. We slowly catch our breath before Dakota breaks thei quiet.

  “You don’t seem - I mean, you’re really sad lately -”

  I wipe at my forehead. “What?”

  “If you’re sad, a-about anything, you can tell me, you know.”

  I fluff out my jersey, trying to get cool air on my skin. She knows. Some deep part of her is picking up on the fact I’m going to leave.

  “Carlotti! Hale!” Mr. Targe yells. “Get moving before I mark you with an F!”

  I sigh and offer her my hand. She takes it and pulls herself up, and we start running again.

  I pretend I don’t see Taj on the steps in the distance. I pretend he doesn’t lean on the railing and watch our class - watch me - until the bell rings. He stays so far away.

  He’s afraid. He’s afraid of what happened to the Illuminator. And he’s guilty he couldn’t stop it. And I know that, because we are (were?) friends.

  He’s staying away because we are friends, and being too friendly got someone killed.

  ***

  Four days after the Illuminator Halsi was killed, Mark, her human boyfriend, ruptures.

  Standing in front of her memorial one day during lunch, the blood starts bubbling from the corner of his mouth. He coughs, spitting blood. His tear ducts brim with red, and two ribbons of bloody tears pulse down his face.

  The security helps him into Yulan’s office just in time.

  Mark is, thankfully, saved. His organ is taken out, and he’s sent home to live out his civilian life. Another teenage EVE, a girl with a million piercings from New York, takes his place.

  And the world moves on, heartlessly.

  11. The Tower

  Parents fly in from all over the country after the investigation into the murder is semi-over and students are permitted to leave by the police. EVEs depart with their suitcases rolling behind them, fresh scars on their abdomens where the organs had been drained prematurely. Teary farewells to friends resound in the halls. Classes start to empty even more. How many EVEs will leave? How many Gutters will be left without food because of it?