Fear Me Not (The EVE Chronicles)

by Sara Wolf

  “You still are,” I grumble. He laughs, but it dies quickly.

  “No, I know. We’re asking something terrifying of you. We’re asking you to step into a completely foreign world, and put yourself at the mercy of our religion. But it’s for the sake of learning control. We don’t – you don’t want to hurt anyone. You said it yourself. Every day you go without control, you risk hurting someone.”

  I gnaw on my lip.

  “And you – you promise me you’ll get me back before Jerai gets me?”

  He grabs my hands and brings them to his chest. “I swear to you, on Asara and Umala, on Latori and Shototh. I won’t let them have you. I’ll amass allies. I’ll set the traps and the spies. And I will come for you.”

  I look to Raine, who smiles, her scarred face crinkling.

  “You’re my friend, Vic. Of course I’ll come for you.”

  Taj steps forward finally, from the shadows. His face is pained, but set and determined.

  “If it’s the only way to stop bloodshed, I’ll do it. I said I’d protect you, Victoria. And I meant it.”

  I look back to Shadus, who grins.

  “It looks like you have some loyal defenders.”

  “Friends,” I correct in a repeat of the past, and fight to keep the tears where they belong.

  I’m scared.

  But I’m not alone.

  9. The Empress

  Taj, Raine, Shadus, and I devise another plan. It’s fragmented, and a lot of it depends on how things play out, but we can change it at any time. It’s fluid, and it might go terribly wrong, but for now it demands little of me – all I have to do is keep acting normal and wait for the mharata to approach me. They’re following the faint scent I’d left all around school, and eventually they’ll trace it back to me. Raine discussed letting Yulan plant my blood report under Jerai’s nose to make my discovery go faster, but we decided against that. The mharata are the ones we want to get me first, not her weirdo dad. Raine is busy plotting with Yulan to secure funds for Alisa, as well as gathering information on what kind of massacre the humans are really planning for the Gutters. Shadus is doing likewise, but he’s also sending letters in coded Rahm back to the reservation, asking Executioner sotho who are more loyal to him than to his father for help.

  Every night I wake up in cold sweats, dreaming of the car explosion and how close it was. I dream of the oven in the cafeteria, and Raine’s horribly burned face, not healed and scarred, but charred, blackened, and crisp with burnt blood, my brain fabricating screams of agony she never actually let out. Sometimes, my dream makes the fire spread to other people. To Ms. Gianca. To Yulan. To Mr. Targe and Principal Freeson and then Taj, Dad, Alisa, Mom. Shadus. And through the fire that feasts on their bodies, a dark-haired woman ghosts towards me. She is paler than the moon, with eyes like amethysts and hair like a raven’s tail, long and messy and black as the burnt piles of ash at her feet that were once my friends and family.

  ‘Y’sarash,” the woman hisses in Rahm, her eyes glowing gem-like with the remnants of the embers. “Kou’il y’sarash, vikali!”

  It’s a command, a demand, an order never to be disobeyed. Her voice rings with power, with anger, with desire for something I can’t quite understand. With the last syllable still ringing in my head, I wake up, my body cold and drenched and my hands clenched achingly so around handfuls of blankets. Sometimes it’s so bad I never want to go to sleep again, and I’ll stay up for consecutive nights to try to keep the woman at bay. But it never works. I have to sleep sometime. I pass out, and the cycle begins all over again.

  I am zol. I don’t believe it though, not deep down where I should. It feels surreal, my entire life suddenly feeling like a dream that’s happening to someone else.

  They can’t be right. It can’t be right. Not me. Anyone else but me.

  To prove it, I brave the security and walk out to the football field during dinner. There are less patrols where no people are, but I still have to duck behind trees to avoid the CIA agent making her rounds.

  There’s a clearing nestled in the trees, not quite visible from the football field, but far enough away from the school buildings and parking lot that I don’t risk blowing something up. Or so I hope. Or don’t hope. If something doesn’t blow up, it could mean everyone is wrong, and I’m not zol, and that’s what I want most.

  I want this to fail. I squeeze my hand around the battery I took from Raine’s toothbrush before I place it in the clearing. It sits on top of the snow, innocent and brassy. I back up, and narrow my eyes at it. I try to recall how I felt when the car blew up. I was excited. Nervous. I was anticipating, vibrating with the sweetest kind of anxiety. And before that, when the oven exploded, I’d been angry. I’d been arguing. And then it hits me. The common denominator – the thing that was present during both those times - was Shadus. I was interacting with him both times it happened.

  He’s not here now, and I don’t know why or how he’d have any affect on it. Maybe it’s because he, what, emotionally triggers me? If the zol is based on emotions, then I need to get feeling.

  I screw my face up and focus anger on the battery. The battery doesn’t so much as twitch. Of course it doesn’t. I was stupid for thinking I have zol – everyone is stupid for thinking it’s me. How dare they. How dare they work me up like this, terrify me like this, back me into a corner and tell me what to do just because they thought I was something they could use –

  I hear a faint ‘pop’. I whirl around. The battery is sunk into the snow, the brass of it unfurled forcefully, like a torn flower. Dots of battery acid sink slowly into the snow, bits of metal scattered about.

  My insides turn to stone. I stare at the exploded battery for what feels like ages, and then I sink to my knees.

  No.

  No, no, fucking no.

  I look around for something, anything that could’ve done it. A machine, a magnet, something. Anything but me.

  “Please,” I gasp. “No. Please, please, please. Not me! Anybody! Anybody but me!”

  Who am I pleading with? God? It’s too late for me. It’s too late for him to save me. For anyone to save me. I am zol. I am the fear, the monster, the thing all others hinge on. I am the pivot, when I never wanted to be. When all I wanted was for Alisa to be happy, and safe, and healthy. When all I wanted was to protect my family.

  The snow-laden trees watch me, uncaring and indifferent, as my world goes up in invisible flames.

  ***

  I proved it to myself.

  And I regret every moment of it.

  If I hadn’t gone out to that clearing, I could’ve still pretended I wasn’t zol. But now, now it’s undeniable. Now I can’t run from it. I can’t turn a blind eye. I could, but that would be denial piling on top of the truth. And that would drive me crazy. Crazier.

  Dakota tries to help in the only way she knows how – by being kind and considerate. But all I can do is snap at her, and she doesn’t deserve that and it makes me feel like a shithead. Because that’s what I’m being; a shithead. She’s done nothing. I’m the one with the problems. I’m the one who’s going to abandon her with no warning, and I can’t even tell her why, or how, for fear it’ll get around to the sotho somehow. Every time she smiles the guilt eats me up inside. Every time she tries to crack a joke, tries so hard just for me, I want to tell her to go find a new friend, one who isn’t shitty.

  And then, a human starts dating a Gutter.

  The Winter Ball must have included some serious emotional revelations, because not a week later does the first inter-species couple announce their dating status publicly by holding hands.

  I watch the two of them - an Illuminator and a boy from my History class. Their fingers are intertwined, something shy in the way they move down the hall. They look happy, smiles and whispered things passed between them. Glances thrown their way. Half of us are adjusting to the alien sight, and the other half are jealous they didn’t have the guts to do it first.

  I watch from the doctor
’s office window. It’s my monthly check up. Yulan taps my knee, and it jerks. He scribbles on his clipboard and glances where my gaze rivets.

  “It is marvelous, isn’t it? I expected something sooner, but perhaps the cultural differences were a larger leap than I thought.”

  “They’re not going to make it.” I shake my head. “Gutters don’t exactly think of us as equals. Anything that’s different humans instantly dislike. They’re gonna have it rough.”

  “It is more than worth it.”

  “If you say so, doc.”

  “Lie down, please.”

  I lie on the table. He lifts my shirt and presses his hand to my ribs. I wonder how many of his loyal EVE fan girls are dying to have this same exam.

  “Have you been abnormally hungry as of late? Any strange sensations in the scar region?” His gray eyes take my scar in.

  “It still hurts sometimes, when I get really angry or sad or something, but that’s normal. No hunger.”

  “And you haven’t been in for sickness, or any sort of flu.” He nods, cool fingers pushing on the scar. “You should be fit for travel.”

  “Can’t wait,” I say. “To be taken away by creepy monks and made into a weapon.”

  Yulan’s eyes grow remorseful, but harden quickly. “Normally, I’d schedule you for a draining of your EVE organ, and the school would then pay half of your promised amount. But I’d rather not risk surgery knowing you’ll leave so soon. So Raine and I will forward the money to your father’s account. You should tell them about the surgery though.”

  “So I lie?” I ask.

  “Just tell them it’s coming up. It will help keep up appearances.”

  There’s a knock on the door. Dakota pokes her head in, and Yulan smiles.

  “Ah, do come in, Dakota. Have a seat. I’m nearly finished with Victoria.”

  She nods and sits on a chair. Yulan walks to the far end of the office. I sit up and look at her.

  “Did you see the couple?” I ask.

  “Y-Yeah. Everyone’s talking about it. Taj stopped them in the halls. Took them aside and s-said a few words I couldn’t catch.”

  We’re quiet. She sighs.

  “This is exactly what they wanted when they put u-us together. This is how societies m-merge permanently. The French married in-into the Native American culture and dominated it by absorption. V-Various Chinese clans did it all the time. It’s a t-tactic settlers across h-history employed. Love conquers everything, right?”

  Yulan ushers me out, giving me just enough time to say goodbye to Dakota.

  Who am I kidding? There’ll never be enough time. I’ll be abandoning her, the first human friend I’ve made in a long while. As I mull that depressing thought over, the halls buzz with opinions on the interracial couple.

  “She’s way hotter than he is - she could do better,” An EVE sighs.

  “I wonder if she asks him what he tastes like?” A giggle at the double entendre.

  “It’s sort of gross, isn’t it? When you think about what they really are. Like being with a dinosaur.”

  The couple is in the cafeteria. An Adjudicator at the next table over taps the Illuminator-half of the couple on the shoulder and asks her something that has her face lighting up in red.

  “Mark! Hey, Mark!” A shouts resounds from my side - a group of EVE boys gathered by the door who call to the human boy-half of the couple. “Does she kiss like a lizard, too?”

  “Shut your face,” I growl at him. The circle breaks to look at me.

  “Who’s side are you on anyway?” The EVE laughs. “Don’t tell me you’re a Gutter-lover, too. Gonna sleep with ‘em all? Tell me if they have lizard dicks, will ya?”

  I stride over, the group scattering and laughing at my attempts to grab the guy’s collar. A hand wraps around my wrist.

  “Let it go, Vic.” Raine’s voice comes from behind me. The guy pulls away and joins his friends, and only then does she release my wrist. My fist itches like crazy to hit the smug bastard. I kick a trash can instead, the metal giving a satisfying crunch. Raine’s eyes mist over as she takes in the couple sitting at the table.

  “Aren’t they sweet? It’s nice that they can be together in the open like that. I’m a little jealous at how straightforward they are.” She turns to me. “Where were you headed?”

  “Gonna call Alisa. Tell her my fake-surgery’s coming up.” I prop my foot against the cafeteria wall. Alisa’s cell rings once, and she picks up.

  “Hey!” Her voice is almost ear-piercingly bright. Happy.

  “Hi.” I smile. “Is Dad there?”

  “Yeah, why? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, I just wanted you both to know; my EVE organ is being drained on Saturday.”

  “Gross. I mean, a good gross! Definitely good!”

  “A good-chunk-of-change gross.” My smile gets bigger. “Tell Dad it’ll be in his bank account soon.”

  “Yes ma’am.” I imagine her saluting. I can hear her run into a room. “Dad, Dad!”

  A grunt. He’s sleeping between shifts. Alisa shakes him awake.

  “Dad, the money! Victoria said it’s coming in. Should I tell her about the house?”

  I knit my eyebrows. A mumbled ‘yeah’, and then Alisa comes back on.

  “We were gonna save it as a coming-home-for-the-summer surprise, but I don’t think I can! Don’t make me keep it secret, please. I’ll die.”

  “Go ahead and say it,” I smile. Her excitement is contagious, no matter how shitty I feel.

  “Dad and I picked out a house! It’s kinda small, but there’s open windows and a big kitchen, and a yard. Grass, mostly, but there’s a cherry tree with a swing someone left! The old man said he’d save it for us.”

  My heart sinks when I realize I won’t be there to see it. “That’s great.”

  “Right? It’s really close to a middle school and a high school. Dad got a raise at the mill, too, so as long as I -”

  She cuts off. I can fill in the blanks; as long as she doesn’t have an attack again, we can afford the mortgage.

  “Alisa, don’t think like that, okay? You’re too young to be worrying about the money crap.”

  “You do it,” She shoots back.

  “I’m different, okay? We’ve talked about this. Just hand the phone to Dad, please.”

  She makes a grunting noise.

  “I love you,” I try.

  “Love you,” She grunts again. The phone goes quiet.

  “Hey, Vic.” Dad’s groggy voice.

  “How much is it?” I ask.

  “Vic, you don’t need to -”

  “How much, Dad?”

  “The owner’s willing to rent it with the option of buying.”

  “How much?”

  “Fifty thousand is a little more than half of what he’s asking.”

  “So my second payment will cover it?”

  “I’ll be working, Vic, so it’s not -”

  “The money will help, right?”

  “Of course, honey, but we’ll put some of that away for your college, too.” He sounds pained. “Look, I never told you how much it means to me, you being there. To us. With all those explosions, you’re risking so much. It must be so scary -”

  “I don’t get scared anymore,” I insist. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just glad I have the right genetic stuff to do this.”

  I have the right genetic stuff to be a weapon of mass destruction. But I’d seen the papers before, in the apartment mailbox. Rejection letters from countless EVE tests for him. He’d tried to be one, too. If I didn’t get my ‘right genes’ from Dad, then it must have been Gutter-hating Mom. Which is ironic as hell.

  “I gotta go,” I start.

  “Call me later, dish the grades and the boy gossip, okay?”

  I roll my eyes and snort. “There’s nothing to dish, Dad.”

  I can hear his smile. “Love you. Stay safe.”

  I want to tell him everything when he says that. Safe, warm Dad. Dad who always
knows what to do. I could tell him, and I’d feel less like shit for keeping this secret inside. I’ll be ditching them. I’m going to take off without a word and they’ll think I’m dead, or worse, being hurt. The government won’t tell them the truth. It barely even tells the truth to itself.

  I resist the urge to blurt it all, and hang up.

  The thorns dig only into me, and I let them.

  ***

  A snowstorm blows through the valley, coating everything in a blanket of white. People roll snowmen and throw snowballs. By lunch the novelty has worn off, and all that’s left on the lawn are slushy footprints and deformed, melting monsters with pencil noses.

  Thick jacket; on. Rubber boots; on. I wrap a scarf around my neck and pull my jeans up, and go in search of a fresh patch of snow to enjoy. No one bothered going under the tree by the dumpsters where I used to smoke. A big expanse of pure white snow is all mine. I fall back in it, and spread my arms and legs to make an angel.

  “Hey!” A face hovers over me - a girl, hair in a ponytail and nose red with cold. She turns to someone and yells. “She’s over here!”

  I dance out the snow in my jeans. Two girls and two boys surround me. EVEs. The girl with the red nose smiles at me.

  “I’m Hailey. That’s Nate -” She points to a redhead with gangly arms. He waves. “ - And you know Aiden, right?”

  Aiden, who started the fight in the cafeteria. He nods and the other girl – the girl who clung to Shadus at the Winter Ball - waves.

  “I’m Serena.”

  “I’m Victoria,” I say.

  “We know. We thought it was about time we got to know you, right?” Hailey laughs breathlessly.

  “She has no idea who we are, Hail.” Nate rolls his eyes and grins at me. “Shadus’ friends. Sorry, Hailey gets enthusiastic and it’s embarrassing.”

  “Look, I appreciate the effort,” I start. “But I’m not -”

  “You’re kind of hard to get along with,” Nate snorts. “We’ve heard it from Shadus.”

  “Yeah.” I fold my arms. “That.”