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— Damn. Shit... Fuck my life! – Zoe exclaims out loud kicking empty boxes, venting all her pent-up rage, – It's been two weeks since the last food supply. Are they gonna be kidding?!
— The funds are dried up or a logistic problem maybe.. – agent Yamamoto mumbles to himself, rubbing his aching knee, but Zoe catches his words, – Nearby stores are damn empty, I checked twice… And it's too dangerous for us to move further now.
— Oh, I don't give a fuck about the reasons. I give a fuck about how we gonna operate starving. Gosh.. Fucking looters. Fucking FBC, – she finally deflates, spent her last percents of energy on beating up the cardboards.
— At least we have pigeons… – Yamamoto says absently, opening his first-aid kit.
Zoe shrugs instead of a proper answer. She's done with the chit-chat.
As she's gonna drop herself onto a camp-stool by her coworker, Zoe catches a glimpse of movement at the corner or her eye.
Turning her head left, she witnesses a grey shadow peeling itself away from the grey wall.. the girl almost flinches but stops herself.
"He's been there all this time? Shit. What kind of handler I am…"
Shadow is far behind Yamamoto's back and no one else is in vicinity. So De Vera seems to be the only one who noticed him.
Next moment the shadow beckons her over and slips around the corner. Zoe falters but takes her backpack just in case and quietly follows.
Yamamoto got too busy with bandaging his leg to pay attention.
De Vera is bewildered but curious. The shadow seems to be her charge. Does he want to show or tell her something? Intriguing yet a bit worrisome.
Walking some distance away he turns into a cozy green courtyard with a patio full of potted plants and wide-spreading trees.
Woah.. Zoe never knew it was here, not so far from their camp. She and her team combed the nearby area but never noticed the place.
This is strange. Yet here is no sign of the patterning. Everything seems normal.
The walls of the U-shaped red brick building are all covered with ivy. This place feels like an oasis amongst the desert.
— Okay, we're good now, - Dylan says confidently, puzzling his colleague harder.
— Good for what? - she asks impatiently and a bit huffily, arching her eyebrow.
He turns around and chuckles back at her.
"What the…" - this is not something she expected from the ever gloomy guy.
Then it gets even stranger. A sly almost-smile touches his lips as he takes snack by snack out of his pockets, out of everywhere.
How in the world does all of this fit in there? Is it a 5-dimensional suit?
He’s laying them on a big round table and it seems like it’s not gonna end.
Her eyebrows are creeping up. Zoe stares at this performance agape as it looks like a magic trick to her. Then quickly gains her composure, realizing how she looks at the moment.
— How? - she says in awe, feeling saliva quickly fill her mouth.
— From the farther parts of Manhattan, where you guys don't dare to lay your foot on, - his satisfied grin grows wide, his eyes are shining, Dylan is so proud of himself at the moment, - I roam here and there, and don't rely on the FBC to bring me food.
— A wise decision, huh, - Zoe nods with approval, hypnotizing all the goodies.
Sweet, salty, spicy, sour.. crunchy, chewy, jelly – almost all kinds possible.
— I don't have much, but.. it should be enough for the two of us. For a couple of days, - he hesitantly says and goes silent for a moment, - I've had some canned food also, but my stash got corrupted along with the building.. so I carry as many as possible with me now.
His face darkens as he speaks – it seems the lost stash was damn rich.
Dylan resembles the famous grumpy cat now – it makes Zoe lightly chuckle.
— How is that not much?! This is fucking collection, man! - she says loudly, pointing at all the treasures, - Maybe we could share it with some more people? I'm thankful you’ve thought about me, but my teammates are starving as well.
By the cloudy look on his face Dylan is obviously not fond of the idea.
— If it won't be enough I'm not sure I can retrieve more right now… - he mumbles uncertainly.
"He’s willing to help but afraid to let us down" - she reads this in his voice tone and mimic.
— We’ll split it in tiny pieces to stretch out. I promise, - Zoe says softly, with a look of hope, - I'll tell them I found it on the street if you wish.. In case you don't wanna step into the spotlight.
Dylan gives her a long, suspicious and full of doubt stare of his grey-blue eyes.
— Arrrgh.. I'll consider it, okay? - he grumbles, looking away, - Let's grab a bite already!
Saying no more, Zoe drops herself on the folded chair and takes a canteen and metal cups out of her backpack.
— Not the healthiest choice but who am I to complain, - she smiles a little, - I have some water by the way. So we are set.
— This is good! - Dylan sounds unexpectedly enthusiastic about this - in a childish way - watching the precious liquid fill the containers. It seems he’s been thirsty for a while.
— Bon appetite! - the girl says cheerfully, - And take it slow, please. We don't need a death by choke here.
— Huh, okay.. - he chortles softly at the joke, - Yeah, I could drink an ocean and eat a horse right now.
They enjoy their food without a word for a while. And the blissful silence surrounds them. Or it could be called that way from the outside perspective. For Zoe it sounds more like a promise of danger.
She tries to relax a bit but stays aware of everything around her. A faint creaking of rusty drainpipes. Distant birds chirping. Rare shuffling of their feet on the ground. A fleeting touch to his shin when she stretches her legs under the table. Subtle rustling of Dylan's raincoat when he moves in his chair. The almost imperceptible tremor in his hands when he reaches for another snack. The side-eye he gives her, clearly chewing on some thoughts.
Now that Dylan got used to his handler and her circle it seems that he craves to chat with someone. Or at least wants to ask her something. Zoe sees this in his curious glance.
And she's all for it. Chatting with her coworkers is 90% made of whining and complaints. All interesting topics were talked through a million times by now.
De Vera and her charge can't let themselves much over the radio, which is their main way to communicate – walkie broadcast is all about work most of the time – but now they can.
— Oh, you are a licorice enjoyer I see, - Zoe is waiting long enough to give him a chance to speak first, then casually starts the conversation.
She's noticed a decent amount of black licorice amongst the snack pile, which Dylan is eating one after another at the moment. It’s called Salmiakki. She’s never heard of this brand before.
— Yeah.. I tried it for the first time on our family trip to Finland. It was delicious, - he’s starting carefully after a long delay, looking somewhere behind her shoulder, - We’ve brought some of it with us. There’s nothing that tastes like this in the States.
A soft light of nostalgia ignites inside his eyes. Warm yet bittersweet.
Zoe wants to stop him and change the subject, feeling like they’re stepping on thin ice here, but he goes on.
"Huh, we are making big progress", - the girl anxiously squeezes her bag of chips tighter than she should, making it crush on the inside. She wants to hear the story but…
— I’ve made a friend back there. And he sent me a package with dozens of salmiakkis when we got back home… And I can’t get enough of it. I’ve stuffed myself so much that my stomach is killing me, - letting out a short muffled laugh he falls silent.
“Made a friend on a trip... it seems he used to be an outgoing kid”, - it hurts somewhere behind her ribcage. Zoe is glad he’s sharing such personal things with her. But it shouldn’t be at this cost for him.
The fact Dylan starts talking about his past in a present tense sends chills down her spine.
"Shit. I have to take action. Stat".
Reaching across the table, the girl takes a licorice candy and pops it into her mouth. And her face twists in disgust right away.
— I'm terribly sorry but how do you eat this?.. - grabbing her water she gulps it down to the bottom, - It's pure gross, man!
She’s chasing it with a handful of chips, trying to get rid of this awful aftertaste.
— Phew, I survived…. It's the worst thing ever created by humanity, - she breathes out heavily, giving Dylan a wide mischievous grin. Zoe prays that she managed to distract him from those thoughts. At least a little bit.
Watching her suffer from under his brows, he lets out another quiet laugh. Weary and painful one. Bitterness settles on the bottom of his darkened eyes.
He’s mouthing like a fish for some time. Silently talking to himself or trying to tell her more. His face goes darker than a storm cloud with every second. She’s failed. He’s drifting off into his memories again.
— Hey! Stay with me, - Zoe registers the change and quickly - without a second thought - reaches for him, covering the palm of his hand with hers.
Dylan struggles to stay but he’s not with her anymore. He's somewhere in Finland or… What is his hometown called? Seems that he never mentioned it to her.
They sit in silence for a while. When he is back to reality, there's a fire inflaming deep down in his eyes. One tiny spark - and it'll flare up high in an instant. She knows the expression. This is hatred, undistilled and pure.
Dylan shakes her hand off and straightens up in his chair. His gaze burns through her.
Zoe holds her breath for a second. The weight of the gun on her hip feels suddenly heavy. She slowly reaches for it under the table.
Not sure if she should say anything, the girl just looks back at him. Locking their eyes. Looking straight and confident.
Yes, she is part of the Bureau. But what happened to him is not up to her. She's not the one to blame. So she won't show even the slightest sign of guilt in her gaze. She won’t atone for their sins. No fucking way.
The next moment, when fear grips her by the throat making it harder to breathe, the flame is gone.. Like it was smothered with something.
The guy flinches and goes slack, snapping his eyes away.
"Oh, so this is how the failsafe auto-mode is working?" - Zoe huffs out a nervous laugh despite herself.
— Sorry.. - he says quietly, zero emotion in his voice, - It has nothing to do with you.
— That’s okay, - Zoe replies as calm as she can at the moment, - I get it.
Then goes silent, trying to figure out what to do next. She may just go on eating, pretending nothing happened. But she hates to see him like this. She has to do something. To pull him out of this unsettling sluggishness. It looks like Dylan got sedated by this hellish thing in the back of his skull. Fuck.
Her eyes wander over the table for some time, examining the packs strewn across. And at some point she notices something familiar...
— It's you!! It was you all this time! - the girl suddenly slaps the table in a burst of insight. It makes her companion shy back and blink rapidly. But he looks more connected to reality now.
The puzzle comes together as Zoe gets the final clue. All those snacks she accidentally was finding beneath her papers, in the empty mug or in her locker. Dylan was the one who brought all of it for her.
"Damn! I should have guessed earlier" - she smiles warmly, looking at the startled and confused one before her.
— It was you who slipped me yummies here and there, right? - Zoe finally clarifies with sparkles in her eyes.
The guy just nods in response.
— Thank you, Dylan. I mean it, - she says still smiling.
"Like in middle school, huh. Adorable".
Something struggles to get through his mask but fades away from the start.
— You are welcome... - the answer is barely audible but Dylan manages to get it out.
His lips are quivering as he speaks. It seems that every facial movement takes a lot out of him. Like every muscle got wooden from whatever got into his bloodstream.
It feels rude to stare but Zoe can't get her eyes off him. She picks up on every movement, even the slightest one. She can't help but reflect on it.
— Fuck the FBC, - the girls says it out loud before realizing.
Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it.
Rising from her chair Zoe crouches down in front of her.. mate. Looking up at him she takes her time, trying to read anything in his dull eyes. Then breathes out and utters with absolute gravity:
— I'll try my best to make them take this damn thing out of your head... I can’t promise for sure but.. but I’ll try, - Zoe sounds more bitterly than she wants to, - It’s inhumane.
Dylan stares at her calmly. The tranquility of his gaze holds a whole void inside. It gives her shivers.
— You hear me? - maybe it’s a dumb question to ask now, but Zoe lets it out.
Instead of answering aloud, Dylan raises and reaches his hand to ruffle her hair. Satisfied with his work he nods more energetically this time. His face expression is still unreadable but his eyes start finally clearing up.
Before Zoe can process it and react, her walkie-talkie wakes up, crushing the peaceful silence of the patio.
"De Vera, are you okay out there? Where did you go?" - the worried voice of agent Yamamoto is coming from the speaker.
— I've noticed something strange. Got out to check, - Zoe tries to sound nonchalant and she pulls it off, - I'll be back soon. Over.
"Okay, got it! Over and out"
As the radio goes offline they look at each other.
Dylan is back. Now he perceives her. He’s here with her again.
— We have to go I guess, - sighing, the girl stands up on her feet, - Let me help you pack the goodies.
Saying this she realizes what it implies. Dylan has no backpack. He kept all of these literally on him.
— I'll manage, - he drags himself out of the chair and starts gathering the snacks, - I feel better now.. Thank you, Zoe.
His voice is still quiet, with a little bit of huskiness. But it feels alive.
He doesn't pick up everything, leaving some on the table.
— Here, - Dylan says gesturing towards the pile, - Take it.
Zoe nods gratefully, smiling back at him. Then tosses everything into her backpack and heads for the yard exit pronto.
The mate follows her, but he takes his time and falls behind, keeping a reasonable distance.
Stepping out on the street Dylan turns around, looking back at the patio. He watches the plants sink into the ground and the walls shifting. The place quickly folds into itself under his gaze. A little more time and there'll be nothing but bricks. Like the cozy courtyard never existed.
His lips twitch into a ghost of a smile as Dylan looks away and hurries after his colleague.