Days of Fury

by B. J. Castillo

  “I didn’t do it.” Tadhg caressed the outline of Rhys's face with longing. “The pyxis'szoth simply vanished. When the blackout occurred, the cable exploded on its own before the discharge. Rhys served as driver... Her clothes, I mean.”

  Evelyn frowned.

  “Her clothes?”

  “Yes,” said Tadhg, and looked up. “It is not leather, as it appears to be.”

  “Of course not.” Suddenly, Eve knew what it was. “It's etolito, right?”

  Tadhg nodded and looked down at Rhys.

  Professor Kerr had explained to her that the etolith could take the form of many of the barest existing materials, such as metal, aluminum, brass, plastic, and cloth. Almost everything, except bones and human skin. Just as a fine bead let made with etolith could contain an acid as powerful as drafta without damaging it; in the same way, the situation could happen with a cloth and a strong electric shock.

  “There were cameras in the hospital,” Eve commented. “Don't you think that someone has caught what happened?”

  Tadhg looked up.

  “Surely yes,” he said. “We'll have to put Brian and the rest on notice.”

  CAPÍTULO FOURTEEN

  Once at the Agency, Tadhg carried Rhys to the clinic. Evelyn wanted to go after them, but Tadhg gave her a look that left her cold instead. The rest of the agents and the protected appeared, almost as if by magic, in the circular hall. Hailee was sobbing with white hands on her face. Jim was at her side, and seemed to hold back from hugging her. Becca and Juno were on one side of the children, as dismayed as the others.

  Professor Kerr approached, limping a bit with his metal leg, and leaning on Dawit's shoulder. Serious, he stood before Evelyn.

  “What happened to Rhys?” He asked.

  “She was wounded by a pyxis'szoth,” she replied, “through its electrical form.”

  “Oh, no,” Dawit mumbled, and looked down.

  Kerr put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Easy, boy,” he reassured him. “She’ll be fine, right?” He asked looking at Evelyn.

  “Tadhg said it was not serious,” she said. “Apparently, the etolith that makes up her clothes has saved her.”

  The professor smiled.

  “It happens, yes.” He turned to Dawit and added, “You see, boy, Rhys will be fine. Now,” he said, turning once more to Evelyn, “where is the other boy?”

  “Caleb.”

  Evelyn started looking for him everywhere. He wasn’t.

  Becca had her arms slightly crossed before her chest; she was walking toward her, her gaze calm, innocent, and her reddish hair on one side of her face, brilliant. She was radiant, even without makeup, for someone who had just woken up.

  “Are you looking for your fugitive boyfriend?” She asked suspiciously.

  Evelyn glared at her.

  “Better…”

  “No,” Becca interrupted, and uncrossed her arms. “I crossed him a moment ago. I seemed to see that he was going to the lower floor, to his room. Maybe you find him there.”

  Eve had to swallow bile.

  “Thank you.”

  With that said, she started walking. She left the hall behind, under the downward spiral, quickly, and crossed the long corridor of the rooms. Caleb's room was three doors from her. When she reached it, she noticed that it was ajar.

  “Caleb,” she called.

  “Yes? I’m here.”

  Caleb's room was just the same size as the others, not very large or very large, and the ceiling was low with white satin immaculate like the walls. Caleb was lying on the flat bed, with his head held high on the pillow, one leg over the other and the fingers entwined on his abdomen. He straightened when he realized it was Evelyn.

  “Eve,” he said, evidently surprised. Perhaps he had assumed that she would give priority to what had happened to Rhys and had forgotten him, maybe he had thought that she would be the last person, besides Tadhg, who would visit him in his room despite everything that was happening. Maybe he had been too distracted thinking that it was all his fault. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

  “You’re gone.”

  “I did not think my presence was necessary, was it?”

  Evelyn went to him, lightly, and sat beside him, on the edge of the bed. Disturbed, Caleb looked down and put his hands to his head. Deep breath.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Caleb,” Evelyn heard herself say in a voice as smooth as silk; she extended her hand and brushed Caleb's fingers as he lowered his hand. He looked up and his eyes met; Gray his, blue her. “Everything has been part of the circumstances. Also, Rhys will be fine.”

  “He hates me,” Caleb said. “And now I have given him a tangent reason.”

  He meant Tadhg.

  “Tadhg hates everyone,” Eve said. Maybe not to everyone; it was evident that he loved his sister, and he had also seen Caleb's mother with eyes of deep love. “Everything he said in the hospital is true?” She asked.

  Caleb focused his gaze on her and frowned.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember,” she said. “Tadhg said he had heard many things about your mother; he mentioned something about an apple pie and a story that she tells how no one has ever done it.”

  Caleb thought for a moment.

  “Right,” he finally said. “But I have not told him anything about my mother, far from it.”

  “I know.” Evelyn looked up. Maybe they had spied on Caleb all this time, she thought, as they had done with her. That was the only explanation, besides, of course, that perhaps Tadhg has some link with Caleb's mother in the future.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Eve blinked and looked back at him; she sketched a smile.

  “I was wondering where Cassie was, your sister,” she improvised.

  “She has spent the last few weeks living with our uncle Rolando and his entire family in Wisconsin,” he said. “My mother doesn’t want Cassie's last image of her to be that... Well, you saw what she looked like.” He smiled weakly.

  Evelyn closed her fingers in Caleb's. He looked down and gave a slight squeeze. His hand was warm despite the cold air that permeated the room. Evelyn noticed his profile, at the moment that he was distracted; the outline of her nose, his pronounced cheekbones, the curve of his full lips. He had a long blond wick on his face, and Evelyn wanted to push it away. She extended her hand to him, and Caleb turned suddenly to look at her.

  “What do you do?” He whispered.

  “I just…”

  And Caleb's lips found hers, barely a touch. Eve closed her eyes; goose bumps and she avoided breathing with exaltation. She opened her eyes, and noticed that Caleb also saw her with passion. And that they did: look at each other. It was the longest moment in Evelyn's life.

  And then, they kissed.

  It was shy at first, like all the things that are given for the first time. Then, one came closer to the other. Evelyn raised her hands and took him tenderly by the face, to draw him as close to her as possible. Caleb, however, wrapped his petite waist with his arms and held her closer to him. His lips, petals soft and moist, wrapped each other avidly, thirsty. Evelyn slid her hand into Caleb's neck and then dipped her fingers in the abundant hair.

  They parted for a moment. Their breaths escaped with violence. The first thing she thought was maybe she was making a mistake, maybe Caleb would regret it; the second, that she didn’t regret; she longed to return to his lips. They came closer; they brushed their lips, the tips of their noses, looked at each other and smiled. Caleb's laugh was tender and subtle. Tender, because he never took his eyes from her or that brightness he had recently acquired. Subtle, because, despite everything, he seemed to be attentive to whatever she was going to say next.

  Evelyn was floating in a dream. She had been waiting for that moment for some time. Months, years. And there he was. Caleb, she thought excitedly. Caleb. Caleb. Caleb! She couldn’t stop smiling, and ap
parently, Caleb couldn’t stop smiling either.

  They huddled on the lean bed, too narrow for the two of them. But their bodies were configured to each other, they were coupled like the last two pieces of a puzzle. Evelyn's head fit into the curve of Caleb's neck, where she could hear his breathing and feel his chest sinking, putting her hand on him. It was the most intimate moment of her life. She sighed deeply, smiling. Eve did not hear him laugh, but she did notice, vibrating through his rib cage under her fingers on his chest.

  “What are you laughing at?” Evelyn asked.

  “Nothing.” Caleb was still laughing.

  Evelyn was laughing too, not knowing why.

  “Tell me,” she insisted.

  Caleb stopped.

  “Nothing, I told you,” he said. “I just... I just thought that you and Tadhg...”

  Evelyn suddenly stood up and cocked her body to look at him.

  “Tadhg and me, what?”

  Caleb also straightened. His blond hair was loose; a few strands of hair ran across his face and neck in beautiful, bright curves. Evelyn bit her lip.

  “I thought…”

  There were touches at the door. Caleb and Evelyn stood up suddenly, as if they had been caught together in a religious seminary. She looked terrified, and when she looked at Caleb's, in horror, she could barely contain her laughter. She covered her mouth with her hand and pressed her back against the wall. Caleb sat unconcerned on the edge of the bed; he laughed too.

  “Yes?” asked this one.

  “Evelyn is with you?” —It was Dawit.

  Evelyn and Caleb looked at each other as accomplices in an assault; the same satirical smile, the same radiant in their eyes and the same quiet breathing of criminals or sinners. They signed to each other. Evelyn did not understand any of the ones he was doing. Eve swallowed air.

  “Yes. I'm here,” she said.

  Dawit made a little noise of relief from the other side of the door.

  “What good,” he said. “I just wanted to tell you Rhys is fine and she's awakened.”

  Evelyn ran her hand through her hair, approached the door and opened it.

  Dawit opened his eyes a lot.

  “Here you are,” he smiled.

  “Have woke up, you said?” Evelyn asked with troubled breathing.

  Dawit nodded.

  “Great news,” said Caleb, who was suddenly after Evelyn.

  Dawit looked at both of them gradually. Did he suspect?

  Evelyn felt flushed; she wish he didn’t notice too much blush on her cheeks.

  * * *

  Evelyn was walking through the corridors of the Agency. She went to the clinic, to visit Rhys; however, her mind went elsewhere, back to Caleb. She had not stopped smiling since she left him in his room and she was on the move. She felt minute tingles in her chest and in the pit of her stomach. They had kissed and caressed each other, and at last those sensations were not unknown to Evelyn.

  Finally she reached the clinic door. She entered carefully. Dawit had said that Rhys was stable, awake and alive, and that it would happen—by express order of Dr. Claire—the whole night at the clinic. Evelyn crossed the double door, turned to close it, and when she did, she heard voices talking to each other. She recognized the grave tone of Tadhg and the delicate rhythm of Rhys as if he had heard them a lifetime.

  “... very scared,” said Rhys.

  Evelyn approached cautiously. There was a blue curtain that blocked the view between the beds and the access door. Eve approached as silently as a cat. Maybe it was her only chance to find out more about the agents. Although Rhys was sweet and kind as a sister and Tadhg had saved her life, Evelyn still had her reservations. They had hidden the truth about Caleb and who knows what else.

  “I've never seen that.” Rhys sounded dismayed. “Her hand was shaking like jelly.”

  Evelyn took a quick look at the brothers. Rhys was reclining on the bed: her blond hair was pulled back, her cheeks pink, and some little cables that clung to her chest to monitor her heart rate. Her head was tilted toward Tadhg, who was sitting on the adjoining bed in an ungainly position.

  "Remember that Evelyn wasn’t always Fury," Tadhg replied diplomatically. Eve never imagined hearing it like that, much less on any subject that included her. Because they were talking about her. “She wasn’t born being Fury. There is not time, Rhys, for her to be able to deploy that feeling with power.”

  “I know,” Rhys said. Her voice was a tangent wall of concern. “But I'm afraid something might happen to her. She is young and fragile now. She always wanted to protect me when I was that age, I remember.” She smiled fondly before adding, “If something happens to you, we'll be lost.”

  “It is obvious.” Tadhg laughed dryly.

  Rhys made a punch, but his brother was far from her reach.

  “If I remember correctly,” said Tadhg, “it was you who motivated his participation in the mission in the edom.”

  “I know.”

  “Evelyn was about to die that night,” Tadhg went on. “This time her hand did not shake. Before leaving I saw how she shot the screen that caused the chaos. It was she who killed one of the avalh through her body with a defibrillator laser.” He paused and sighed. “She is young, yes. But she isn’t as fragile as it appears to be.”

  Silence.

  “I saw her today,” Tadhg continued, his voice more muted than before. “I was in the hospital.”

  …silence.

  “… speaking of…?” Rhys asked.

  Evelyn had to move closer to the curtain. The brothers had lowered their voices. Eve did not hear Tadhg's response.

  “You saw her,” Rhys continued, remarkably impressed. “And how was it?”

  “After all, she looks like you.” Tadhg smiled. “I'm not sure I had blond hair, like yours, because I did not see any strands. But you have the same lips as her and the same profile, and also the same frown,” she added with another smile. “And she's beautiful, as our father told us.”

  Rhys also smiled.

  “I would have liked to see her,” she said more nostalgically. “In the end, I’ve got her name.”

  “Yes,” said Tadhg in the same nostalgic tone.

  Another long moment of silence.

  Evelyn wanted to see what they were doing at that moment, but, as soon as she glanced quickly, she specified that Tadhg was looking straight ahead to where she was.

  “Do we ever tell her the truth?” Rhys asked.

  “No,” Tadhg answered bluntly.

  “I saw you, Tadhg,” his sister said seriously. “I saw both of you, when I entered the training room. You were very close to her, half naked. What the hell do you think you're doing, Tadhg? Evelyn is attracted to you, and she is...”

  “It's just a game, Rhys,” Tadhg said dismissively. “You know.”

  “What kind of sick game is that?” Rhys was tense. “Tadhg, she...”

  “I know.”

  “… is your mother.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “... is your mother”, was the first thing she thought when entering her room; the second, that she wish she hadn’t heard that conversation. She had received many emotional blows in recent days: she had had to leave home and her father, all the life she had ever known, and suddenly, everything had vanished like a dust-blown image of dust.

  How easy it was to fall. The abyss was abrupt and endless; a hole in her chest that let out a cold air; a flower of sharp crystals that emerged from its entrails. She undressed in the darkness: first she took off her boots, then her pants, and finally her shirt and jacket. In the comb, there was a mirror so small that she had not seen the first time she entered that place. She approached it and admired her features. “... is your mother.” She knew that Rhys was talking about her, and at first, her mind had been so dull with revelation that she had forgotten the simplicity of the walk back to her room.

  “... is your mother.” She turned to her
bed. She did not want to think anymore. She did not want to fall again.

  And yet, the next fall was inevitable.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The next morning, Evelyn wet her face in the bathroom and later returned to her half-asleep room. She had decided to spend the rest of the day there. The events of the previous night continued to wreak havoc on her: a sharp storm in her head and a sharp pain in the back of the neck summed it all up. Her stomach was also a disaster, but, of course, it was better not to think about it.

  She climbed into her bed and wished she could go back to sleep as she had done so easily the night before. Could not. The voices broke into her. She began to turn from side to side in the small space of her bed. She conjured up the brief picture of Rhys and Tadhg in the clinic room. It what happened to Caleb was something that she couldn’t be separated from her thinking either. However, it was Rhys's words that stood up the most.

  “... is your mother,” she had said to the last.

  In the bathroom Evelyn had seen herself in the wide mirror of the sink. She had carefully repaired each of her features, because she had identified certain similarities in them that she had not noticed before. For example, those blue eyes like ice and that thundering voice, that the first night had made her soul shudder, reminded her of her father. “How stupid she have been”, she told herself—how have she not seen him before? Tadhg looked a lot like her father, even dared to evaluate her as a much younger version of Taddeus White.

  Overwhelmed, she sat on the bed, a little stooped, and ran her hand over her dull head and coppery hair. God, she couldn’t believe it: Tadhg was her son. She had always known. Rhys... Rhys was her too. She also had a certain resemblance to Caleb's mother. “I would have liked to see her. In the end, I’ve got her name.” Maybe Rhys was her way of shortened Renata.

  And then Tadhg...

  She sighed deeply.

  Later they would start knocking at her door. First it was Caleb. She allowed him to pass, although she wasn’t at her best. Even, he had to put under the sheets so he would not see her in her underwear. Eve let Caleb talk, although she did not say much, all his conversation focused on the obvious discomfort that was happening to her.