Masks

Chapter 2

Heading into the faux jail Evey pushed the doors to her personal hell open probably with more force than was necessary. While she had expected the gray din and florescent light of this portion of the shadow gallery she hadn't expected to see all of the doors removed to the various portions of the 'jail' and intensely bright fluorescent light. What seemed to be a perfectly normal laundry room occupied the space that was once her interrogation room and her cell a perfectly benign bathroom and storeroom full of gardening supplies. The room was better lit now and on a counter next to a utility sink were the sought clippers beside a small cosmetic mirror. While her quest was over she couldn't help her curiosity, the smell of roses entranced her, pulling her down the hallway into what had been the processing hall. What she found there made her heart stop in awe.

The lights of the room were interspersed with UV lights, the floor completely covered in interlocking growing boxes, all linked with a watering system which seemed to be programed for automatic utilization. At least a quarter of the large hall was covered with rose bushes all in bloom. Without their gardener no one had been there to shear the buds at the appropriate time and every rose had opened to its fullest bloom releasing the pungent perfume of perfection. The rest of the beds were full of crops of vegetables, herbs, and even what appeared to be berry bushes. Between the pilfered stores that V had stockpiled in his kitchen and the food she had brought with her this garden could sustain her for a long time, her nights would no longer have to be divided between steering the course of the revolution away from another fascist regime as V and visiting the newly formed black market for food supplies as Evey.

Following surgery his body was pieced together, all of the bullet holes closed, the internal bleeding stopped, and infections treated. Then again his mind was not. Following, during, prior to the doctors were not sure when precisely he had retreated to his mind but he had slipped into a coma.

Evey backtracked. Rushing into the storeroom she had completely forgotten her ridiculous hair. She grabbed garden shears and the largest basket she could find she rushed back clipping as many roses as could fit in the basket she ferried them back to Valerie's memorial although they were overly pungent and fully open the flowers filled a space that had been nagging her for a few weeks now. She repeated this process several times arranging the roses in the urns that had held the flowers previously. Once no more fit in those urns she went to the kitchen and grabbed whatever there was that could possibly hold the flowers; she could not bring herself to throw even one away. This was the last batch of roses V tended the last batch her would ever tend. Once her room, the kitchen, her bathroom and the common space were seemingly overflowing with flowers and she had run out of vessels; save for what she assumed was a Ming dynasty vase and her kitchen wares for cooking her meals. She began to bind them for drying, getting two or so dozen to hang in the UV room. Satisfied the bushes were pruned and exhibiting more buds, furthermore that she had not killed them, she began to tend to the vegetables. She sorted the good from the bad and harvested what was ready. If she were frugal she could not only feed herself but perhaps she could also bargain for luxuries like milk and butter at the clandestine market.

Her life continued like this for the next few weeks, peaceful but lonely. Her only company was the brief interactions with the farmers and scavengers at the market; which was becoming less secretive, less illegal as the government that had once been, fell further away. Evey did not rest, she maintained a strict martial regimen because the pockets of resistance with respect to the fall of government, usually led by former leaders, were becoming more violent and devious. And if they ever caught "V" she did not want to be caught off guard. These were things that bore precedence to be watched. However she was not all that worried the world was still turning and the revolution was still in action. She still read voraciously however the books went from manuals on hacking, as she was now more than adept to tap into the old "Fate" system in order to broadcast her bi-monthly rallying speech, to the copious amounts of philosophy and classic literature V had kept in his personal shelves in his room.

V awoke with a start. What was once black was now so very white. The darkness gave way to bright light. Suddenly he was no longer in the hazy grey world of his dreams but on a hard sheeted gurney. He was so very hungry. So weak his muscles slightly atrophied with what seemed to be a month or two of disuse. So naked. His mask was gone and he was robed in a flimsy green gown. When he politely asked the nurse for clothing she had run searching for his doctor. The doctor was anything but helpful in getting him his clothing, which he said was ruined beyond recognition. Helpfully the doctor did explain that he was in fact "one lucky bastard" who "just needed a little more rest and a few good meals before they could let him go."

V was antsy; it had been years since he had been in the presence of so many people in such a sterile setting. He felt, as though he were in 'processing' again. As though Dr. Surridge would just walk through that door with yet another syringe full of some permutation of the St. Mary's Virus. Lilliman would breeze down the hallway offering so-called last rights to the ailing. The sick feeling in his stomach would not dissipate. All of these people could see his face in the bright lights, they could all see what a monster he had become at Larkhill those many years ago. Why were they not cringing? Why were they not even remotely suspicious? He had known that the night of the insurrection would be the perfect night to be found; there would be limited suspicion placed on a man found in a mask that night. However that did not explain away why so many cartridges had been emptied into his athletic body, nor did it explain why they could not see the monster he was. Why weren't they running in abject terror?

'It's that time of the month again' Evey chuckled to herself. Immediately she stopped and wondered where that light hearted though had come from her mood darkened. 'Why be V if I can't have a sense of humour?' She thought darkly as she pulled the wig on. He had exhibited a sense of humour; albeit it had been a dark one but she could see how he had become a shadow. She pulled the mask down over her face. He hadn't been just a shadow though! He had been a shade, a ghost moving; pulling her into his gravity. She pulled on the gloves. Why was she allowing him to fade away? With a flourish of the hat her disguise was complete. Maybe it was because she was becoming him, dark sense of humour and all.

She began the way she had the past three speeches, the way he had begun his. "Good Evening, London. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you appreciate the comforts of routine – the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I know that these recent times have not been tranquil or routine; but by taking some time out of your daily lives I hope to provide some succor in this time of bloody revolution, some accountability. We have deposed the high chancellor, you have conquered your fears overcome your panic. Your voices have been heard! You are no longer silent, no longer obedient! But we must absolutely maintain control over these emotions. Cruelty, injustice, intolerance, and oppression could still very easily take hold in our fragile nation. That is why tonight, I hope that unless you yourself are in danger, I propose that you would only apprehend former party members instead of caving to the inherent bloodlust, giving in to the need for bloodshed that drove our nation for so many years. We must never forget what has transpired in this nation. Forgetting fear is forever freeing, forgetting history makes us frail. We must always remember that justice, freedom, and fairness are goals to be strived for, which our nation should embody. They are embedded in our very core. The need for discourse is a crushing one; we should never forget the injustice that was done to us. We should never forget the sacrifices made for us. And we should never forget who we are. We are a people that should never be forgot! "

With a click the television turned-off. V knew it was her. She had been the only one he knew who could both embody his ideas so stunningly and implore for the evocation of mercy for the people who had killed her family, friends, perhaps even her lover. She must remember him! Or had he been imagining the sadness in her voice. When she had reminded the people of the 'sacrifices made.' He was not sure now. Since her introduction to his life he had become unsure. He had thought that he was ready to die, but her presence had brought him away from that ledge. He had never been this unsure in his entire life. He supposed though that this was the time that he did not need to be sure anymore. He hadn't been afraid in years but at this instant he was terrified of many things. He was so uncertain. He couldn't be in this place anymore but had no strength to move, he needed this sterile place's care, but the emotional toll was beginning to wear on him. He knew he loved Evey, and while she didn't want him to go yet he did not know or fathom that she loved him as well. His thoughts were a jumble, in this place he was suffocating. In this moment though he was sure of one thing, he needed to get out of here and he undoubtedly needed to find her.