InsaneJournal

Eye Opener
Considering all the hoops Jill had to jump through just to get this intel, it didn’t surprise her in the least that the FBI wouldn’t let her leave the premises with it. Not that the agent particularly cared whether she read it in her living room or the office; either way, it was an eye-opening couple of hours.

The only light in Jill’s office came from the lamp sitting on her desk, though Jill herself was actually Indian-style on the floor, a pencil clenched between her teeth. Papers from the Lincoln Park file surrounded Jill, confining her to a virtual island of carpet in the middle of her workspace.

Her blazer was draped over the chair, leaving Jill in her sleeveless red top and gray dress pants. Black high-heeled shoes were by the door, because wearing them caused her feet to scream out in pain.

A cursory investigation of the files revealed the bulk of information being compiled in the immediate aftermath of the incident. As the months passed, information became harder to come by, and the agent found herself wondering why that was the case. Then again, if information wasn’t so scarce, would the bureau have given her the assignment?

Jill doubted it.

Some of the pictures were grainy, but that did little to hide the gruesome nature of some of the creatures that were apparently on the other side of the quarantine. Jill cringed when she glanced at one that appeared to be a cross between a spider and a rat, finding herself disgusted with its hairy legs and the strange growth on the top of its head. A lot of this stuff looked like creatures that would interest the science labs at Wolfram & Hart.

Jill balanced a legal pad on her right thigh, removing the pencil from her mouth and jotting down notes as she read over the reports and other notes tucked within the massive folder. Her mind raced with ideas for what to do to find out more definitively the ways things were in Lincoln Park now, and Jill knew that some point soon, she’d have to actually visit the quarantine site. Even if they wouldn’t let her in the other side, the agent could at least speak with the military presence.

Ignoring the clock on her desk – that tried to tell anyone who would listen that it was five minutes until one in the morning – Jill’s eyes danced over the papers yet again, scouring over the same scribbled writings repeatedly for any clue she might’ve missed before. Yes, it was monotonous and Jill’s eyes grew heavier each time she repeated the exercise, but she wouldn’t sleep until she found some answers.

“The majority of portal-related activity appears to take place in and around the Lincoln Park section of Chicago, which will henceforth be referred to as Community Area 7,” Jill read aloud from one of the reports, as if hearing the words as she read them would help the agent absorb them better. “On June 22, 2012, at 10:21 p.m., a portal to a currently unknown dimension briefly opened over Community Area 7. Energy that has yet to be identified radiated from the portal, severely mutating several of the area’s inhabitants.

“The quarantine is as much an effort on the part of the United States government to further study and better understand the phenomena and its consequences as it is a matter of public safety.”

“It is unknown at this point whether the contamination of Community Area 7 is permanent,” Jill read, moving her attention to one of the other reports, “though it is in our best interest to ensure any future contamination remains local. Routine checks of radiation levels are in order, as is constant surveillance of the creatures on the other side of the wall. Soldiers in the United States and Illinois National Guard have performed periodic air sweeps, though as time has passed, such sweeps have yielded little further intel. Perhaps the creatures hide during the day, or the sounds of choppers frighten them into hiding.

“Scientists have performed experiments on the few creatures that have been captured from the quarantine zone, but results thus far have proven inconclusive. Some of them were once human, mutated by the mysterious energy that emanated from the portal. The mutations appear to be permanent, though we now know there is no biological threat.”

Another sheet immediately to Jill’s right wasn’t so much a report as a note left presumably by the last person on the case, FBI Special Agent Travis Reynolds. The agent frowned at the message, scratching the side of her head.

“If the overall effects of the incident prove to be temporary, and the creatures do not pose too much of a public hazard, there is the chance, albeit slim, Community Area 7 could be re-opened and the quarantine lifted. Such a possibility is bleak and is unlikely to come soon; the more time passes without concrete answers, the smaller Community Area 7’s window for eventual human inhabitation becomes – especially if the mutants have been breeding, as has been suggested.”

The agent’s face blanched, and a cold chill ran down her spine. That was an unpleasant thought, horribly-mutated humans procreating. Something told Jill that as bad as that thought seemed, it would be even worse than that if she ever actually managed to see a creature up-close.

The agent jotted down a few more notes before grabbing her digital voice recorder, pressing the “record” button and running a hand through her hair.

“FBI Special Agent Jillian Andersen, Chicago Field Office,” she spoke, her eyes dancing along the paper trail on the floor. “Having briefly reviewed most of the file on Community Area 7, I’m afraid I’m no closer to new answers than I was before being granted clearance. My personal suspicion of creatures on the other side of the quarantine has been confirmed, as was my theory that the government was holding a few for study. Perhaps I should meet with Dr. Forbes to see if anything’s been discovered on that front, especially if Special Agent Reynolds’ theory of breeding is true.

“I will also be meeting with military personnel at the quarantine site within the next week or so to determine what else can be determined about Community Area 7 as it stands now. Much of the file’s information stems from the months immediately following the events of June 22; I need something more up-to-date. And considering there’s no bio-threat, perhaps I can manage a visit to the other side of the wall.

“A supervised visit, of course.”

Jill cleared her throat, squinting at the clock. She needed to get home and sleep – soon. That conference call with the Pentagon was going to begin at eight the next morning, whether Jill was awake for it or not. Considering Lincoln Park was one of the topics, she wanted to be there.

“One of the files is listed as ‘Other Portal Activity,’ though I’ve yet to review that one. Perhaps examining those reports will give me a better understanding of Community Area 7, whether that was an unusual occurrence, or if that sort of thing was happening to differing degrees on a consistent basis.

“I’ll file a further report when I have more information. Andersen out.”

Turning off the recorder and setting it on her desk, Jill sighed. Chewing her bottom lip, the agent dropped to her knees to collect the papers, trying to keep them all in order before stuffing them back into their respective folders. She’d continue studying and investigating after the briefing with the Pentagon, and see if she couldn’t make an appointment with Dr. Forbes. Maybe seeing one of these things up-close would help.

Then again, this was one of those instances where Jill wouldn’t mind a little supernatural help. She laughed to herself as she turned off the light on her desk and slid her arms into the blazer, getting ready to head back home for at least a few hours of sleep. For years, she cursed the existence of Slayers and the Council of Watchers, since they worked in direct contradiction with everything Wolfram & Hart stood for.

Now, she wished she could enlist the help of a Slayer or Watcher. This sort of thing was right in their wheelhouse, wasn’t it? The United States government, whether it wanted to admit it or not, was still a rookie when it came to supernatural phenomenon.

Jill yawned, closing the door to her office behind her. She’d give it more thought tomorrow; right now, the burning in her eyes told her other, more normal things took precedence.

Like sleep – and eventually Starbucks.