Divided We Fall

by Adam Bender

  Seeing Eve with boxes stacked up to her eyes made Jon smile. It was finally happening, he thought.

  The double doors to the freight elevator opened and the two of them stepped carefully into an off-white hallway with floral-print carpeting. When they reached Jon’s apartment–now theirs–he put down the two dining room chairs he was carrying and ran ahead to hold open the door. As Eve waddled by, a corner of the box in her arms caught Jon’s hand and tore into his skin.

  He yelped.

  In lieu of an apology, Eve rolled her eyes. “Well maybe you should have taken this one…”

  His hand was cut and oozing crimson.

  “I’m bleeding!” he screamed, darting to the bathroom.

  He flipped on the cold faucet to full blast and let the jet stream of icy water numb his wound. Jon thought he may have heard Eve’s voice but decided whatever she was saying could wait. Regarding himself in the mirror, Jon noticed dark bags under his eyes.

  “Snap out of it,” he told his scowling reflection. “Your girl-friend is moving in with you. It’s just a cut.”

  He splashed his face with water, took a deep breath, and reached for the door. Returning to the living room, he found Eve engrossed in her phone. He wasn’t surprised.

  Jon cleared his throat to get her attention. “Aren’t you going to unpack?”

  “Oh,” she answered enigmatically. Her attention was still on the device.

  “Eve?”

  “Think I’ve got to go to work.”

  “What? Now?”

  “One of my Watched just got on a bus wearing a backpack.”

  He shook the water from his hands with vigor. “So what?”

  “She hates the bus and I’ve never seen her with a backpack. Could be a bomb.”

  Jon shook his head in disbelief. “But…we’re in the middle of moving, and you already told everyone you were taking the day off.”

  Eve looked down at the phone and then back up at Jon. “Look, I mean, we got a lot done already today, right? I just think I should check on this, and then I’ll come back, and I promise we’ll do more.”

  Jon opened his mouth to speak, but sighed loudly instead.

  “What?”

  “It’s just…” he said. “Never mind. Go.”

  She started toward the door but turned back. “Look, I’m sorry I have to go out and save lives,” she whined. “And anyway, you do the same thing when your phone rings. Yesterday, in fact.”

  “That was just dessert!” protested Jon. “This is different!”

  Eve’s jaw dropped. “How does having pie in front of you make it any different? Is there some kind of pastry exemption I don’t know about?”

  “You’re in the middle of moving in with me!” he cried. “Stop trying to get out of this!”

  Her eyes widened. “Get out of this? What are you talking about?” Now she was shouting, too.

  Jon shook his head in disbelief. “Maybe we did this too soon. Do you even want to live with me?”

  “Of course I do! I think you’re blowing this way out of proportion…”

  He looked at his feet and spoke somberly. “You know, part of the reason I wanted you to live with me in the first place was because I felt like–with our jobs and everything–we barely had any time to see each other. And I figured, if we had the same home, then we’d be guaranteed at least a little time every day.”

  She sighed deeply and approached him. “I know…that’s what I want, too.”

  “Do you?” Jon shook Eve’s hand away and walked to the window. The sky was growing red.

  “I just don’t get why…” Jon said eventually. “…why you’re actually encouraging me to take the mission.”

  Eve’s face fell. “Is that why you’re so upset?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “I told you before,” she said. “I think it would be good for your career.”

  He glared at her in exasperation, and his palms shot out to his sides. “And what if I don’t come back?” His face sank to the floor as he added meekly, “Would you even care?”

  She scowled. “Why wouldn’t you come back?”

  “You heard the risks. They’re going to do something to me that might–what if I’m different afterward? Why doesn’t that matter more to you?”

  “I–” she started and then stopped, her eyes flitting back to her cell phone.

  “Just go!” Jon roared. “I know you want to go, so just do it. Good luck on your backpack patrol.”

  She shot him a pained look. The next thing he knew the door slammed shut and she was gone.

  Dusk turned to night and still Eve had not returned. Jon hadn’t had dinner yet–he had been waiting for her. But she didn’t even call. He had tried her once and gotten a voicemail. That was an hour ago and she hadn’t even texted him back. That was suspicious. Eve could barely go ten minutes without looking at that damned cell phone.

  Jon tried distracting himself with TV, but an invisible, vice-like grip dug into the back of his neck and shoulders. Eventually, he decided the windows weren’t providing enough fresh air and he stood up to leave. He didn’t turn off the TV or any of the lights on the way out.

  A cool wind cut through the night air, the first warning of autumn. Jon liked the feel of it as he marched forcefully down the block. He used to go on walks like this all the time, before he met Eve. It was how he learned his way around the city. There on the left across the street was the burger place he used to go to all the time, before Eve made him feel guilty about the calories. Over on the right was the comic book shop he used to frequent before Eve had made him feel embarrassed about the hobby.

  Jon turned right around the corner at the end of the block. Across the street to his left were the big green grounds of the local church. The over-sized glass pyramid, lit from within with blue and yellow, sliced through the black sky. He paused to take in the dramatic sight, but his brain flitted back to the blonde who was supposed to move in with him, but now wanted to leave him behind.

  A shattering of glass interrupted Agent Wyle’s thoughts. Jon’s head snapped toward the church gardens where a teenager was readying another rock to launch into the side of the holy building. Jon yelled at the kid and raced across the street to stop him.

  A car screeched on the brakes, missing Jon narrowly.

  “Hey!” yelled the driver.

  The punk kid turned in surprise, caught a glimpse of Jon, and darted away like a frightened squirrel.

  Jon wasn’t about to let this go. “Stop!” he yelled, taking chase. “I’m with the Guard, you goddamned Heretic!”

  The kid reached the city street, and halfway down the block turned into a tight alley. He was quick, but Jon gained ground with every stride. Soon he found the delinquent struggling desperately to climb over a great green dumpster blocking the path through to the next street.

  “Hold it, Heretic!” Jon roared.

  The kid stopped, took a deep breath, and turned back around to face Jon. His eyes were filled with fire.

  Scowling as he advanced, Jon reached into his jacket and pulled out a standard issue silenced pistol.

  The delinquent laughed at him. “What are you going to do, kill me? For throwing a rock? You fucking cops.”

  That insubordinate brat, thought Jon. He was about a foot away now. “No, I’m not going to kill you,” he growled. But then the hand holding the pistol whipped around and struck the boy across the face. Immediately, blood began gushing from his nose. Jon kneed him in the stomach and the delinquent crumpled forward. Finally, he landed a sharp, plummeting elbow that left the child whimpering.

  The boy’s tears mixed with the asphalt on his cheek, making Jon feel completely disgusted with himself. The kid had learned his lesson. Deciding not to make the arrest, Jon turned back for the street.

  Jon grew angrier the more he thought about the mission that Eve said would be good for his career. The Guard were asking him to give up his identity in order to conduct a covert investigation of the Unde
rground. So covert, in fact, that not even he could know he was on a mission. He had to be a blank slate, his superiors told him. That was the only way it would work.

  Here Jon and Eve had just moved in together and his job was already forcing him to give it all up. They were asking him to forget this girl who just might be the love of his life. And she didn’t even seem to care!

  Sure, they promised that they would restore his memories, but after how long? What if Eve got tired of waiting? What if she fell for someone new? Jon thought he could prevent that by having her move in, but now he wasn’t sure that would be enough. He needed to find a way to guarantee she would wait for him. He needed to find a way to show her how much he needed her to wait. Something to prove to Eve–and perhaps to himself–that they would have a future together, no matter what happened.

  On and on he walked, thinking too hard to see anything around him. The hopelessness of night closed in upon him. He hadn’t felt like this since…before he met Eve. All he wanted was to keep her and tonight he had lost her.

  Suddenly Jon was overcome by sharp fear that she was back at the apartment taking back her boxes. She hadn’t un-packed–with a friend or two she could have her stuff out in less than an hour, he realized. She could have come and gone already. She could have–

  His phone rang.

  “Jon?” Eve said meekly on the other line. “Where are you? Why aren’t you home?”

  “I went for a walk,” he said coldly.

  “I tried calling you.”

  He stopped short. “What? I didn’t hear my phone ring.”

  He pulled the device from his ear and checked the screen. Sure enough he had three missed calls, two voicemails, and a text message. How had he missed them?

  “Shoot,” he said, turning around in the direction of his apartment. He looked at a street sign and realized he was at least three miles away. “I’m not sure what happened. I thought you were…I don’t know. You’re home now?”

  “Uh huh,” she said. “You were right–I shouldn’t have left to check on my Watched. It took all day and ended up being a total bust. I guess I just don’t like moving very much.”

  He stopped again. “Having regrets?”

  “No, no!” she protested. “Jon, I love you–of course I want to live with you. Moving is just so…boring…and sweaty. I just got irritable.”

  “It’s okay,” said Jon, resuming his walk. “I’m heading back now but I might not be there for a little while. I walked…a lot further than I thought I was going to.”

  “Okay, I’ll do some unpacking. Don’t take too long. Don’t forget we’ve still got some celebrating to do tonight.”

  Jon’s mouth parted slightly. Suddenly all he wanted to do was touch her warm body again. “I love you, Eve.”

  “And I love you.”

  As Jon put the phone away, bright lights rushed upon him. He realized he was in the jewelry district. Jon pulled in close and peered into one of the store’s displays. A single diamond caught his eye.

  He stood there considering the ring for some time. Finally, with a smile on his face, he stepped inside the shop. He had his answer.

  The pounding of war drums quickly suppressed the auditorium chatter. The lights lifted, revealing a grinning man with grey wisps running back through brown hair.

  “And we are live inside the Wellor Theatre,” he said, “in the heart of the Capital, where two candidates for president will soon begin a one-hour debate about the future of our fair nation.”

  Seven and Ana had front row seats. They were there to lend Danny some moral support and, if necessary, protection. Both Underground agents carried pistols on their ankles, just in case someone made another attempt on their boss’s life. Seven was also armed with a pen and small pad of paper to take notes on the debate.

  “I am your host and moderator Bob Santos,” the announcer gushed. “Let’s welcome Susan Levi and Daniel Alexander Young to the podiums!”

  Levi strolled out from stage right blowing kisses to the audience. Halfway to the stand she blushed and pointed in the vague direction of the audience. Young appeared and took several long strides toward his own podium. Momentarily distracted by the crowd and cameras, Danny nearly crashed into Santos’ moderator desk.

  “He looks nervous,” commented Ana. “C’mon, Danny, pull yourself together.”

  When the clapping died down, Moderator Santos took up the mike and spoke. “Thank you, Mr. Young and Mayor Levi–”

  “Please, call me Susan,” she interrupted. “And it’s my pleasure.”

  Young squinted perplexedly at the glass of water on his podium. “I guess you can call me–”

  “–This is perhaps the most difficult time we have ever faced as a nation,” interrupted Santos, “and this is certain to be one of the most important presidential transitions in our history. So, if you don’t mind, let’s get right down to business.”

  Danny offered a thumbs up.

  “God,” groaned Ana. “Does he have to act so…so…Danny?”

  “Here is your first question, and I’m going to ask Mayor…er, Susan, to respond first.”

  Santos cleared his throat.

  “Former President Drake resigned amid controversy over what appeared to be an illegal surveillance program. If you are elected president, what role should surveillance play and how will you balance that against the people’s right to privacy?”

  Levi smiled. “Well, that’s a great question, Bob. But first I just want to thank you again for moderating this super debate. I’d also like to thank everyone in the audience for having the courage to come back to the Capital after the Enemy’s simply devastating attack. It’s wonderful to be here in the beautiful Wellor Theatre. This place is positively glowing! And a final thank you to all of you tuning in on television. It is so very important that the people of this fine nation be engaged in this critical transition. I cannot stress enough how critical that is.”

  Seven glanced at his watch.

  “Bob, your question is a very important one. The president’s number one job is to serve the people. She must protect their security, and she must protect their privacy. As you said, there is a definite balance between those two vital, absolutely critical rights that must be found if we are to keep the people safe and simultaneously, just as importantly, protect their privacy.

  “It’s a tricky issue. The goal of surveillance is to keep people safe. But people are skeptical, and they have every right to be skeptical, because it does mean they are being filmed, watched. But they are being watched by a government whose job is to protect them–that’s what it’s all about. So I firmly believe we can find a balance that gives greater privacy protections to the people, while also ensuring we promote national security. We owe it to the people to keep them safe while also making them feel as cozy as a bug in the rug.”

  Some in the audience chuckled at the cute ending. “She’s great,” commented a lady behind Seven. “She reminds me of my neighbor.”

  Seven glanced at his notebook and tried to figure out what to write. Finally he scrawled:

  Levi says balance b/w privacy and nat’l security needed, otherwise dodges Q.

  “Mr. Young,” prompted the moderator, “what’s your take on all this?”

  Danny nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “Well, as my opponent said, the government’s responsibility is to the people.”

  He paused again for what Seven felt was an excruciatingly long time.

  “But if a government is to be effective, the people must trust their government. Trust is not a one-way street. The former president’s failure, I think, was that he did not trust his people–he was inherently suspicious. So much so, in fact, that he felt that he had to watch everyone. Drake thought he could avoid rebellion by catching it early. As if it was some kind of cancer.”

  Young shook his head. “My father, rest his soul, taught me that revolution is not a disease. Revolution is a mere symptom of a broken government. Instead of trying to stamp it out,
Drake should have worked to reform the government and make the changes that were absolutely needed. If I’m elected president, I’m not going to have the Guard watch a citizen’s every move for signs of independent thought. I’m not going to say free thinking is heresy. If someone has a valid complaint against the government, I’m going to listen and I’m going to make the changes needed to solve the problem.

  “I have not kept secret my reservations with the level of surveillance under the previous administration. If we are to reestablish trust with the people, we must completely reevaluate this program. When I am elected, my first step will be to reform the Guard. We will go down the Watched list name by name and reassess whether the people on the list should really be there. My guess is many of them are not really Heretics at all.”

  From a rooftop across the street, Eve scanned the Wellor Theatre for suspicious activity. Someone out there wanted Young dead. What better night to strike than his first presidential debate?

  “Anyone got anything?” Eve asked her headset radio.

  “Negative,” a gruff voice responded

  “All clear,” said a feminine one.

  Eve had Elite Guard set up with sniper rifles on other buildings around the block. They were seasoned veterans, men and women who she had worked with and trusted for years. No one could get into the Wellor Theatre, not without a fight.

  “Good evening, Agent Parker,” said someone new on the radio. He sounded familiar. Eve checked her phone, but the device couldn’t locate the source.

  “Who is this?”

  “I’m insulted. Do you not remember thy former partner?”

  Now she recognized that flowery timbre. “Rodriguez.”

  She reached for her phone and sent a text message out to the team:

  Someone is here. Get visual and take down.

  “Excuse me a second,” said Rodriguez. “One of your soldiers just received a message.”

  She was overcome by a horrible sense of dread. “What did you do to him?”

  “The will of God.”