Enigma Black (7 page)

We were at our favorite hole-in-the-wall pub just a block from my apartment. Chase and I were not much for appearances, preferring the rugged, manly atmosphere that our pub offered. We’d spent many a date night here without it ever having grown old, even as the atmosphere around us grew more unsavory. It was unusually quiet tonight with only one other couple seated a few feet away from our table, and a couple of men playing pool in the corner. I liked the quiet, but this was a tad unusual, even for this place.

Chase took a sip of his water, swishing it in his mouth as he rolled the glass around in his hand. “Tap water, vintage 2009,” he announced discerningly.

I couldn’t stop myself from bursting into laughter, revealing the dreaded snort that came whenever I was thoroughly amused by something. The other couple near our table looked up in surprised amusement, causing my face to flush in response.

“Absolutely adorable,” he proclaimed, happy with himself.

“I bet you won’t think that in twenty years,” I said.

“Twenty years? I was going to trade you in for a new model after ten.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Celaine, I love you with every fiber of my being. Until my dying day, my heart will be yours. Unless, of course, you become sick of me.”

“Chase Matthews, the day I get sick of you is the day that pigs sprout wings and take to the sky.”

“You know that isn’t entirely impossible…” He began breaking into what I affectionately referred to as his “nerd lingo”, which usually involved talk of DNA, chromosomes, surgical procedures and pretty much anything else remotely related to the human body and how it worked.

“I’m sorry,” he stopped. “I think I’m boring you.”

“No, not at all,” I lied.

“Really? Your eyes were starting to glaze over.”

“I just like it when you go all nerdy on me.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Chase glanced up at the television on the wall to check the final score of the baseball game taped earlier that afternoon. Since the curfew, many professional games were taped as opposed to being aired live, allowing the public an opportunity to actually attend the games. The taped games were then broadcast at their normal times for the rest of the country to view within the safety of their homes. Taping not only abided the curfew laws but also served as a deterrent for The Man in Black. The shock value of an attack on a taped game was significantly less catastrophic than if the attack were to take place during a live broadcast.

Watching Chase, I looked up at the screen just in time to see a recap of the day’s news scrolling across the bottom of it. “What do you think of the death of one of our supposed superheroes?” I asked.

“It’s weird,” he replied. “I can’t say that it surprises me, but it surprises me.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“There’s nothing out there that is impervious to everything. Whatever this psychopath is, he can and he will be stopped. It’s only a matter of time. What makes me wonder is what will take his place...if something hasn’t already.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t this all seem a little odd to you, Celaine? We voted to basically give up some of the basic principles of democracy by being fed the explanation that it was for our own safety. How does that even happen? Do you think the public would have been so quick to give up any freedom, no matter how small, if The Man in Black didn’t exist…if there were nothing to fear? Do you think that President Brooks would now be serving in his third term? There’s just something fishy about this whole thing. Yet the people approve of this madness. They think just because the attacks have decreased by a couple of percentage points over the last few years that what he’s doing is working and we’re going to win this battle when, if you ask me, we’ve already lost.”

“I think that’s one hundred percent plausible but not probable,” I said in a tired, half-hearted attempt at sounding half as eloquent as him.

He smiled his crooked smile. “Well, Ms. Stevens, I do believe we need to start heading back, as Big Brother will sick the Feds on us if we break curfew.”

“Hey, you have a hospital badge,” I said with a sly, I’m-trying-to-live-on-the-edge smile. “You know the curfew doesn’t technically apply to you.”

“That may be true when I’m actually on duty, but right now I’m just a humble civilian. Nice try, though.”

“Can you blame me for trying to live dangerously for once?”

“Yeah, you’re a real rebel.” He rolled his eyes at me from across the table.

I took Chase’s hand as we walked out of the pub back onto the street towards my apartment. It was a spectacular night, perfect for a solitary romantic walk under the stars, and I couldn’t help but think that it was too bad we couldn’t be on the streets past ten o‘clock. One thing I’ve never been able to get used to is walking through a city completely devoid of people at a time when logic says it should be teaming with activity. Perhaps there was some truth to Chase’s theory. In moments like this, it made perfect sense.

Despite the absolute perfection of our moment together, however, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something didn’t feel quite right. Upon turning down the alleyway leading to my apartment building, it seemed like there was someone watching us, calculating our every move. My body tensed, my stomach shifted from euphoric butterflies to a sudden sickness as though something terrible were about to happen. In a flash, I whirled around to face the dark, empty street stalking our footsteps.

“What are you doing?” Chase asked with uneasiness in his voice.

“I don’t know what it is, but I suddenly have this strange feeling that someone is watching us.”

“Oh, man, I knew this would happen someday. The fresh air has made you delusional,” he laughed. “That’s it; I’m never letting you out of the house again.”

“You may want to check your faucet; your sarcasm’s leaking,” I said in annoyance. “I’m serious, Chase. I feel someone watching us. We’re not alone. I mean…we are alone, but we’re not…it’s just…oh…you know what I mean.”

Chase placed his hand on my shoulder. “Celaine, there’s no one there. If there were, we would’ve noticed it. There are only so many places a person can hide on this empty street.” He was right, although I would never have admitted it. Behind us, there was nothing but dark, deserted alleyway; ahead of us, more of the same.

Realizing that I wasn’t going to let it go, he opted for a compromise. “Okay, if someone had been following us they obviously aren’t now, but if they still are, I hope whoever it is enjoys the show.” Scooping me up into his arms, he pressed his lips to mine in a passionate embrace; one that I wished would last for an eternity, but instead ended entirely too soon. “Well, we had to make it worth their while, right?” he smirked, still holding me close to him.

“Uh-huh,” was all I could reply. Great, not only was I paranoid, now I could hardly walk.

****

In the shadows, at the exact location—down to the coordinate—where they told him she would be found, he waited for her. Lighting a cigarette, he checked his watch impatiently. It was nearly curfew, which meant that she should soon be within his sight. The hunter would have his prey. This amused him. It’d been just about the only amusement he’d experienced in the last several months. Slumping further down the wall, he wondered if she would come with him willingly or if she would need to be dealt with. He hated dealing with people; it left such a mess. 

Finally, she emerged from the pub. Doing as he’d been instructed, he cautiously took a step out from his place of hiding within the shadows to engage her, quickly backtracking at the sight of someone else with her.
Oh, great, a boyfriend
, he thought.
They didn’t say anything about there being a boyfriend
.

With no other option but to remain hidden, he watched his new target. She was beautiful, he observed. Tall, dark-haired, with a nice figure—from what he could see of it. There wasn’t a single thing about her that screamed “killer”, making him wonder whether they’d completely lost their minds in their selection of her. When they had first informed him that she would be a “she”, he envisioned a woman with more girth and slightly more muscle. After all, she was the first woman they’d ever chosen.

His target turned down an alleyway with her boyfriend in tow. He couldn’t allow himself to lose sight of her. At all costs, he had to stick with her until his job was done; no matter what the outcome may be. With the cigarette still aflame between his lips, he leapt onto a fire escape, scaling the side of the building lining the alleyway. Along the edge of the roof he walked until he saw her further down the darkened street. Her boyfriend was clutching onto her in a passionate embrace almost as if it were the last time they would see each other. Who knows, depending on how his mission turned out, perhaps it would be.

Love. It was the dirtiest four letter word of them all. The dreadful emotion rendered a person weak and vulnerable, which was unacceptable to him. It was a hypocritical state of being. Not only did it instill immense pleasure, but it also served as a catalyst for excruciating pain and suffering. It was unexplainable, and he didn’t like the unexplained. Besides, nothing lasts forever, so why pursue an impossibility?

Quietly, from his vantage point, he observed the couple entering her apartment complex. Removing his cell phone from his pocket, he decided that he would approach her tomorrow. The boyfriend was too big a risk for him to take.

“Blake,” the response to his call rang into his ear.

“I’ve located Stevens and will make contact tomorrow,” he reported. Without waiting for a response, he shoved the cell phone back into the depths of his pocket, stomping the cigarette out on the roof. He wondered how long she would last.

****

The stars glittered above us from our haven on the rooftop of my apartment building. We weren’t supposed to be there, but we didn’t care. With the expert lock-picking skills I’d acquired during my teenage years of forgetting my house key paired with a bookend from my apartment, we were able to both prop and open the fire escape door nicely. It was our spot. A regular retreat used by us as a means of escape from the monotony of daily life.

The one positive aspect arising out of the mass exodus of the city had been revealed to us during the first clear night we visited our rooftop sanctuary. The barren city allotted for an uncompromised view of the night sky. There were no city lights remaining to compete with the natural luminescence of nature. It was in its uninhibited, natural state.

I held Chase tightly with my head on his chest just over his heart, running my hands through his hair. Most couples had a song to define their relationship, we had a star. And it was shining proudly over us as if realizing its significance. Our star was the last star comprising the handle of the Big Dipper and was chosen primarily because it was one of the few stars I knew I’d always be able to find. Chase tried explaining the constellations to me once but his lecture had been drowned out by my snoring.

“So, do you still feel like someone is watching you?” he asked.

I sat up to meet his eyes. “Yeah, but somehow it doesn’t seem as foreboding now.”

“I guess I need to try a little harder then,” he chuckled. “It’s getting late, we should probably go inside.”

“Party pooper.”

“Don’t blame me; blame our employers.”

“What? Are you telling me you can’t do your job on only a couple of hours of sleep?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s my patients. Would you want to see your surgeon yawning only a couple of minutes before he was scheduled to cut into your body?”

“Point noted.”

The flame from the candles bounced around my bedroom walls, creating a ballet of light that illuminated Chase’s bare torso. As we lay in my bed, I ran my fingers along the lines on his abdomen. He worked out obsessively when he wasn’t at the hospital, and it really paid off for him. My head rested on his broad shoulders while his hands caressed my back. It was a moment bathed in perfection. It was a moment I wished could last forever.

“
Have I told you lately that I love you
,” my futile attempt at singing brought a smile to his face.

“Ripping off Rod Stewart, are we now? Bravo.”

“Rod who? I thought it was an original.”

He laughed, moving his fingers up my back, tracing my spine until he reached my head, where he proceeded to stroke my hair.

“When are we going to move in together?” he asked curiously.

“My guess is that you’re enjoying this just as much as I am.”

“Immensely.”

Even though we’d been together for two years, the whole idea of the big “C”—

commitment for those brave enough to use the word—scared the hell out me. It wasn’t as if I imagined my life without Chase, because I didn’t. I was just afraid of the unknown. I’d never been married, nor had I ever lived with anyone I’d been in a relationship with, so the whole prospect was rather frightening.

“I don’t know. I was always taught that people should be married before they live together,” I asserted in an attempt to grab hold of the topic and steer it over a cliff.

“So… you want to get married?”

“No… no… oh, my God, no …. I mean… you mean... right now?”

He laughed. “Not this very second, but thanks for the confidence booster.”

“Chase, you know how I feel.”

“I know. You’re afraid of commitment, and I think that’s the most intriguing thing in the world because I’ve never met another woman who seemed to have that problem.” He rolled over to face me, cupping my cheek with his hand. “I also know that the majority of that issue stems from the loss of your family. Trust me Celaine, come hell or high water, I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

I leaned in to kiss him as he ran his finger tips from my neck down to my back, creating an electric tingling sensation through my body as he pulled me closer.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“Never.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

****

I opened my eyes. It was morning, and it was raining. Terrific.