Chapter 6 - FISH

   Eva and I made a habit of meeting up at the beach. At first I would search for her beyond the shore, but I was wet and bare skinned... it was too cold and too risky for that kind of behavior. So eventually, with some convincing on her behalf, I allowed her to come to me.
  On the west side of Antigone island there was a place where land met water through and the sake of large, dark gray rocks. They seemed like the remains of a fallen cliff that now just barely towered beyond the sea like a wilting mountain. Eva laid out a blanket and framed it with stones on the flattest surface. You could still hear waves crashing below, but I wanted to be sure not a single drop could touch her, so I climbed up to meet her.

   Today the winds were mightier than usual, and I was almost completely dry before I ascended the climb up the rocky walls. The sun set quickly, painting the sky deep indigo.
   She was wearing the towel (that she usually draped over me) around her arms and shoulders. When she saw me she tried to give it to me, but I insisted she keep it. We ended up both inside of it after a few minutes, huddling together for warmth. It wasn't that new of a gesture.
    Eva I didn't have much to talk about. We can share the occasional pre-zombie era anecdote, rarely ever daring to speak of the awful things that followed our pleasant childhood. But eventually the difficult stories were told too.
   We were both eleven when the Dackville incident occurred. I was eating a bowl of cereal when I saw my father rush in from the garage, carrying a large suitcase he would only take for long trips. He tossed it on the floor, unzipped it, and then calmly looked up at me and said, "Jacy, son… When you're finished eating can you pick up all your - only your – most favorite clothes? Can you throw them in this bag for me?" I love going on trips, but I immediately sensed something was wrong.

   When we got the chance, Eva I exchanged these uncomfortable memories.
   In her household it had gone down much differently; her mother had grown obsessively fearful with the outbreak since the first account had been released. She gave her thirty days notice on the rental agreement as soon as she put down the article, and the Segwerth family set out on a "road trip to FairyTale Land," a popular theme park right outside the capital. The children were delighted summer came early.
   Eva admitted that her weight problem began long before they reached the outskirts of Ramecha. Her mother had an emotional breakdown the day the Dackville victims escaped, and the only one there to confess to was Eva, the most matured of her kin. But Eva was just eleven, and although she could keep her mother's secret- that there really was no FairyTale Land, not even a destination to this painfully long and boring road trip – she could not handle it. Stuffing herself had become the only way she could cope with the blind optimism of her younger brother and sister, who would rave about the carnival rides and unlimited shaved ice flavors during each stop for a meal.
   Despite this, Eva had only put on a mild extra layer, enough to be considered healthy in times likes these. When the Segwerths were turned away at the gates of Ramecha, her coping mechanism that night had become more apparent. Her mother had finally acknowledged her daughter's problem, yet instead of comforting Eva when she found her hovering over several chocolate wrappers, she left and returned with a packet of marshmallows, encouraging Eva to finish them all. Eva always recalled the offering as "a heartless way to show she cared."
    The family eventually staked out in the same factory Eva had brought Team D to on our third night. Eva was regularly prepared a meal twice the size of her siblings'. The only ones who ever mentioned this accretion of food were her little siblings, who sometimes complained when their dinners seemed much plainer than Eva's. Without ever coming to a verbal agreement, Eva understood the reason behind this strange ritual. Even when her mother recovered a scale and began weighing Eva nightly, the two of them would never speak of why this information was relevant, why "250" was the magic number.
   Her mother had even begun to invent reasons as to why Eva shouldn't move around too much, for "the little ones need you to look over them," even though Amy and Sam were now eight and ten. She did anyways. Much of what she learned was from escaping out at night and being on her own in the streets. She had her mother's gun and a small pack of supplies. "There wasn't much to do by myself since I had to come back in the same condition. But most of the time I would hit the mall and take clothes that actually fit me. What I was wearing back at the factory was..."
   "Too tight?" I didn't usually prod but it seemed like she couldn't finish this by herself.
   "No... it was loose, intentionally, to accommodate for my changing body. But it wasn't very stylish."
    I laughed. It never occurred to me that the dignified and brave Eva would have fashion on her mind. Smiling with me, she continued to explain how she would break into stores and try on dresses and shirts and skirts using the dim moonlight from the ceiling windows to put on her own show, in some attempt to feel beautiful in her skin. When she was finished, she returned all she had tried on to its former racks (for she had grown immensely paranoid that her mother would somehow discover her tracks) and put the loose "pillowcase of an outfit" back on. And as she turned the corner out of the store, a freshly-turned zombie stood right before her.
    "It was my first encounter on one of my late night adventures. I'd done it a hundred times and they were so rare in that town I figured it wasn't ever going to be a problem. So I let my guard down."
  The zombie chased her back into the store, and she did not have enough time to retrieve the gun from the bottom of her bag. She took an empty clothing rack and stabbed it into zombie's heart repeatedly, until it finally ceased it's rampant vibrating and fell skewered to the floor. "I was alive, but dead in another sense... my outfit was splattered with blood. I figured I had two bad options, so I went with the stylish one."
   Tossing the pillowcase was as sweet as it was sour, but when her mother saw the green button-down dress with yellow and pink floral print, Eva dared to lie. She explained that she had found it in a locker of the packaging factory. She was briefly scorned for roaming the factory alone, but the story was bought. "I should have tried it months ago," she laughed timidly.

    From the curious way she spoke about herself, it was evident Eva had never really shared her life story with anyone before. It was as if externalizing her memories was helping her see how much she's grown… how far she'd come despite all the odds. And if I reminded her how beautiful I found her to be, sometimes I could see all traces of regret washed from her face.
    I'm in love with Eva. If it's because she is my only option, or slow insanity is driving my lust for her body, I do not want to know. She keeps me happy.
   I think Eva loves me too, although this idea grows more and more surprising each day. She may be an obese teen living in a humbly populated shelter on an island, but she is still human. Her social freedom is infinitely more available than mine.
   My only other companion these days has been nice, but any chat with him is a sad excuse for a conversation. He's either speaking nonsense or renting to himself. After I learned of his purpose on our planet I begin to view him as a plague, and consequentially avoided him like one. I decided it would be best not to bring up my encounter with the lone descendant of the Araki chief, and though – through messages from Eva – Zupak had expressed further curiosity on the god's temperament, I had nothing more to say. Rage, as he was called, was an interestingly suitable way to sum up his being. He had two emotions, neutrality and wrath, and every interaction I had with him felt like tip-toeing around a sleeping beast, trying to find the right words to avoid stirring his angered half.

   In this fashion, my life was simple. Becoming aquatic and loving Eva were the only two ways left to improve myself.
   But on this windy day, I was introduced to a new dilemma.

   Eva had been struggling to find a way to mention it. Finally she spoke, "I've been here for a while."
   "You came early?"
    She nodded. "I had to get away from the hospital. We had a lot of visitors."
   Eva wouldn't be one to run away just when her help was most needed, nor would she become queasy at the sight of any gore. This issue had another layer. "Who were the visitors...?"
   "Team D."
    Of all our conversations, we'd never bothered to discuss our thoughts on other members of our recruiting team. I knew Eva resented most of them, and I hadn't really attached myself to any of them except the one she resented most. It was never worth bringing up., so we didn't.
   "They're on their way back to Ramecha?"
   "Yeah, but they're taking it easy. They have several families with them, so ts tricky to move."
    For a moment I was thrown back into the recruiter mindset, and I puzzled over how that journey would have to be played out... what would become of the motorcycles, and how would they deal with zombies? But then I was reminded of something else. "My note," I blurted, "...did my parents get my note?"
   She shook her head. The answer was no.
   Not "I haven't heard yet," or "I'm not sure," ...it was no.

   My brain twinged as I started to investigate. "Why?"
   "We reported the causalities....we had to. We didn't know you were lying about your age, and we didn't even say that in the report..."
I was suddenly aware of what had occurred- maybe it was the way she was dancing around the words:
   Once news of my death had gotten back to Ramecha, the government revisited our house to interrogate. My parents were exiled from the SafeZone for lying about my age.

   How long had it been? Winter was nearly over! Months had passed... all this time I thought my parents were coping with my absence under the safety of the city, when really they were actually being punished and left for dead because of my apparent death. It stung like razors in my heart to think of what they had to endure without me, and hurt even worse to try to imagine where they were now.
   "Has anyone heard from them?!" I gasped, not bothering to fathom how unlikely that would be.
   "I'm sorry," Eva whispered, "they left the address you wrote on the letter months ago." They'd been evicted, rather- but Eva spared me the dark language. "They probably didn't go too far! Maybe they found a home right beside the zone. I know there are a lot of families who live against the wall, waiting for their teenagers to..." she trailed off, knowing what she was about to say would have triggered a memory of what could have been done to protect my family.

   My parents had adored Ramecha. All of their neighbors became close friends. My father had pleased everyone with his ability to fix anything with a minimal amount of tools. My mother created many gathers from her activist knowledge and social charm. They hosted events and turned everyone's houses into homes. Parents whom had lost their children early into the pandemic, people who hadn't smiled in years, were happy because of the community work my parents had accomplished. We barely made it into that damn place, and though my parents were somewhat adapted to a life of survival, they were built for a life of intellectual and social challenges.
  To even think of the devastation that followed... being shoved right back out the door that killed their only son...

   I hadn't been paying any attention to what I was doing until I noticed how woozy I'd begun to feel. I was breathing too heavily; my throat felt dry as ashes and my head was spinning. "They didn't deserve to be exiled!" I cried into Eva's shoulder. She shuddered as a broken sob escaped my lungs.
   I was in the wrong setting to be this way. Misery accompanied by air was a recipe for evoking the worst side of me.
   I kisssed Eva as gently as I could manage. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be like this in front of you. I have to go... think."
   Eva grabbed my hand. "Wait. There's one more thing I have to say."
  It was more displeasing news, I could already tell.
   "I turn eighteen in a week," she looked away from me. "I was offered to return with the team so I can get vaccinated."
   I paused, trying to wrap my head around what this meant. "Will you?"
   "Yeah," she sighed, "...it will be good! For us. You won't have to worry about infecting me anymore." It was an issue we'd discussed many times before. I was reluctant to do anything more than kiss and cuddle her for fear that she'd somehow absorb my coldblooded curse.
   But I was hesitant. "How are you so sure that when you get there... you'll want to come back?"
   "Jace," she spoke with a comforting smile, "of course I'll come back for you."
    After all I'd had to decompress today, the though of Eva forgetting about me was beyond my ability to digest. That wasn't the most pressing issue anyways.
   "How are you so sure..." I repeated mystically, "...that you'll make it back?"
   Ramecha was over a week's distance from Port Antigone as I recalled. From the look on Eva's face, she hadn't given the return journey much thought until now. With a layer of coolness glazed over her grin, she promised me that she would make it back- no problems.

   It was harder to say goodbye now, but she told me she'd be back once more before her final departure. "I won't leave you like this."
    Could she see it in my eyes? Eva always understood when the pain arrived... when I needed to return. Sometimes I wonder if it shows on my face in some sort of physical way. Do my lips go pale? Do the whites of my eyes taint pink with irritated vessels? She always hides this look of concern and disgust under a placid smile when I start craving the water.

  As I broke through the surface and little bubbles pluck off my skin, new troubles began to form in my mind. If Eva goes back... if she leaves me... me? I'd be torn apart. Heartbroken. Lonely for a very long time. But...  it would be good for her to be in a safe place. She could live normally; meet someone... normal. I would have to feel okay with those god awful thoughts because it was better for her. I didn't want her to leave, but if she did, I didn't want her to return. Getting back could not be as simple as she'd made it sound.
   I didn't want to believe anything she'd told me today, but the thoughts flooded my head as water flooded my lungs. I began to pay attention to the strange way this felt- the overall bizarre anomaly of the activity. Breathing water. Like a fish.
   "Hello Neither."
   I spun around to find Naceo floating a few feet behind me. I could not pull off a decent conversation with him now, but I could tell from the tone he approached me with that he already knew my emotions were aflutter.
   "I apologize for meddling into...personal business." It all seemed very theatrical, though he wore a serious gaze. "I couldn't help but overhear."
   "Have you been stalking me?!" I spat,
    "Well," he circled me, "it would be unfair to say I was stalking you. If you wanted privacy, you should have chosen somewhere far from my sea to converse with your little friend."
   I lacked the energy to counteract his point, and he may as well be right. He was unusually patient with me as I stormed off, swimming deeper and farther from the shore. "You seem tense, Neither."
  "I'm just thinking about what I have left," I grumbled, "The disease... its flipped my life upside down... ruined my world... caused so much suffering!" I was so frustrated I hardly cared that Naceo and I had traded roles of aggresive ranter and attentive listener.
    When I expected him to retort with the same anger, I was surprises to hear him hum softly, "you could let it all go."
   "...what?"
    He came beside me as we traveled. "I hear you have lost. You are thinking about how much you have left. It's not a lot, hm? not enough to try and pick up the pieces and build up again. Ow, just thinking about it hurts! Just thinking hurts!"
   He wasn't wrong.
   "Leave it all behind. Your life has flipped upside down. Your world is ruined. There's nothing more to go back to. The game is done... the hurting stops now."
  
    Keep breathing water.

    It was obvious that was what he was trying to tell me. It also wasn't the first time he'd try casually making the suggestion, like losing my mind was supposed to be an easy "yes."
   But in this moment in had the potential to make sense.
   I could probably never see my parents again. They already thought I was dead. Perhaps that was an easier concept to swallow than "your son is a fish, walking a dangerous line between empty and violent insanity." And it would free Eva to do whatever she wanted in life. She would have to feel bad for abandoning me, and I wouldn't have to feel bad for being abandoned. I'd be trapped in mindless bliss.
    Naceo was practically salivating with the idea that for once I might consider his offer. I suppose to him I was just one more child, yet his most difficult client. If he could get me- the boy who'd balanced his life for months just to stay sane- to give in...
   "Why do you want me to give up on myself so badly?!"
    I hated the smile he wore, and my question hardly wiped it off his face. "It'll be good for you," he sighed, "I really don't enjoy watching you suffer."
   "You don't make any sense," I snapped, "you don't enjoy watching people suffer, and yet you unleashed a terrifying illness upon the wo-"
   "People were suffering long before I came back to this stupid planet!" he growled viciously.
   I'd never bothered to push him this far, and now I began to tremble at what may come out of that mistake. I remained quiet, but my silence did no healing to his wrath. "Just when I think I'm starting to understand you humans, you start wanting more of this and less of that.. if eternal happiness doesn't satisfy you, what will?!"
   I'd put myself in the ring. I knew I had to fight back. Yet- upon the demand for instant feedback on quite a philosophical question- I felt months of living in this watery cage had prepared me for a response.
   "Humans want freedom," I answered plainly.
   He was baffled, almost enough so to extinguish the flame which was burning inside of him. "Freedom? Freedom from what?"
   "Not free from... free to! Free to be able to design your own fate... to make unique choices. And yes... the freedom from being locked to the sea! As long as we're living, humans will strive for their freedom! And I'm stuck in this goddamn ocean and I want my freedom!"
   If I'd put out a fire before, it was certainly reignited now. I'd never seen Naceo so furious. He clenched his hand around my neck and propelled us down deeper like a bullet. My back collided with the sandy floor; schools of startled fish scattered in all different directions.
   His eyes glowed so brightly they were blinding. "Stop it!" he bellowed, "stop ruining yourselves! You kill yourselves... you kill each other... and maybe that wouldn't be so bad if you weren't killing the planet along with all your murderous nonsense!"
   He wasn't speaking to me... he was speaking to all of humanity. I was dumbfounded, and unprepared to argue on behalf of my entire species. Even if I had something more to say, it was impossible to get a word out. Naceo was choking me, pinching my neck with more intensity each passing second.
   Since we'd come to the ocean floor, there were some children present. Hovering with their toes lightly dragging through the weeds, they gathered around to watch me perish.
   "L-ook..." I managed to utter.
   Naceo looked at the children, letting go of me. "What?!" His voice was everywhere.
   "Look at them..." I explained as I slowly gained back my breath, "...they didn't help me."
   "So?"
   "A human would have helped me."
   Naceo was skeptical. "Why?"
   "Because... most humans value the right... for other humans to be free."
    Naceo snorted. Once, then again. He burst into maniacal laughter. "IMPOSSIBLE!"
    I couldn't speak over his noise. He cackled like a devil. I was scared and confused... what was so hard to understand about freedom? What was so impossible about valuing another humans rights? Perhaps what was impossible was actually getting this narcissistic god to see my side.
   "Neither, Neither, Neither..." he may have composed himself to be able to speak again, but the madness was still present. "You've been neither for too long. Pick a side, won't you?"
   My chest heaved up and down. I was still parallel to the ground, gazing up at him. His finger began to glow at the very tip of the nail. He leaned over me, the light dangling over my nose.
   My perception became fuzzy.

                                 My thoughts


                                                     fled like
                                                          fish

   "Stop!" I grabbed his wrist and tossed him to the floor beside me. The children were motionless spectators.
    Now Naceo was below me, looking up. He laughed again. "Perhaps you have already lost your mind- thinking you could beat me in combat!"
   He'd let me flip him over? I knew it had been too easy.
   "No," I sighed, "I can't beat you. Nor this disease you brought upon me. But I'm not ready yet. Please, let me see my love one last time. Then you can steal my sanity."
   Once wearing the grin of a crazed jester, Naceo's expression suddenly softened. It must've been the mention of love, for now his eyes bared a hint of past regret.
   "Yes, okay." he swallowed, looking horrifically guilty. "Goodnight."

   He is aware of sentience, yet incapable of controlling it.

   As I watched him swim away, the children trailing him like driftwood caught in a stream, I recalled what insight Zupak's caretaker had to share about the god.
   It had just occurred to me how human-like his condition really was.