“It all happened so fast, one day she was acting weird, she had a fever…” Anon answered with his head slumped forward, his eyes staring at the clean tiled floor “I went out to buy some stuff but…” he brought his hand up to his mouth and puffed his cigarette nervously “when I came back she was gone” the room was lit by a single buzzing fluorescent light, a thin strand of smoke emanated from the cigarette in Anon’s hand, it swirled upwards the white light defining its contours until it gently licked the grey concrete ceiling. “at first I thought she'd gone to the store or something, maybe she'd called an ambulance" the cigarette burned faster with each word "and was taken to the hospital” He coughed, his leg was shaking and with it his arms and hands too, holding the cigarette over the ashtray he let the shaking do the rest.

“And Mr. Mous” she paused briefly ”what did you do next?” one of the two interviewers asked, from her neck hung a plastic-wrapped ID card, on the side was a small picture of the woman and up top big red letters that read: “FEMA, bureau of dinosaur related events”. Anon answered, “Well, I was about to call the nearest hospital when, I realized that her phone was still by the bed” He paused again and took out another cigarette, digging into his pockets with his free hand he took out a small pink lighter and looked at, staring right through it, piercing the opaque casing and freezing the liquid inside with his cold gaze.
“Mr Mous, could you please continue” The second interviewer’s voice cut through Anon’s ears with like a winter’s chill, he sounded slightly annoyed and somewhat condescending. After a few seconds Anon put the lighter back into his pocket before sitting up straight and locking eyes with the second interviewer. Just like the first one, he also had a badge with his name, photo, etc. But there was no big red text in his ID card, instead there was a small yellow phrase tucked right underneath his name: -Chief security officer, sector D6-.

The man stared right back into Anon’s eyes, he examined the heavy bags under the tired and sad orbs, he squinted slightly and his pupils narrowed into Anon’s. The duel didn’t last more than 2 seconds, in the end Anon turned away and sighed, he swallowed saliva and spoke again. “There weren’t any calls to anyone from her phone… Still I dialled every hospital in the city. But I couldn’t get an answer, they told me they were at full capacity and that I’d have to wait a few hours for them to get back to me.” Anon closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his hand, after a few seconds he resumed talking “after that, I tried going outside to look for her… but by then the alert messages were being sent out and police cars started rolling down the street” Anon opened his eyes again, he wanted to cry, to scream, to cover his face and lie down on the cold floor. He looked at both of the government officials sitting in front of him, then turned his eyes to the ashtray on the table, a forest of cigarette butts with ashen underbrush covering every inch inside it. “They told us to stay inside and lock the doors, to quarantine anyone who was showing symptoms of the flu”.
The woman spoke after a minute of silence “You said that this was… three, maybe five months ago?” She talked in a subtler tone, her eyes didn’t pierce his skin the same way as the man sitting next to her. It was clear that she had done this before, talking to a Human about the recent epidemic, someone who was very close with a victim. “Four months and twenty-one days” Anon answered while staring at the now empty box of Dinboro reds.

A blue pen rested on the big table with a notebook by it's side, the interviewer grabbed the pen and looked at Anon again “Are you certain?”, her voice was somewhat soothing. “Yeah” Anon answered, still fixated on the empty cig pack. The woman then scribbled a few notes into a page on the notebook. Meanwhile the man checked his watch, an old silver-blue T-rolrex with scratches all over the metal watchband and a dent right next to the five on the clock, the groove ran from the edge of the glass all the way down the side of the casing and into the man’s wrist turning into a trio of scars running parallel to each other. He exhaled and looked to the woman, she was still scribbling words on the notebook, filling blank spaces on another file before asking Anon some mundane question that he would answer before staring at the floor again. The man closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose before taking a pack of cigarettes from one of the many pockets on his dark green vest. Anon subtly followed the man’s hand with his eyes and when the box peeked out of the pocket his pupils widened slightly, an involuntary reaction that not even Anon noticed, but the man did. The man took out a cigarette and put it firmly between his lips. Tapping his vest lightly the man searched for his lighter, but stopped just before reaching into his left pocket, he looked at Anon and spoke “You have a light?” the man asked bluntly, Anon was taken aback for a second, the man hadn't asked any question so far “Uh... Sure” Anon lowered his hand and reached for the pink lighter buried deep in the blue fabric of his jeans, he thought about handing the man the treasured artefact for a second while clutching it on his palm. Finally, Anon raised his arm forward and handed the lighter to the man. “Thanks” again, the man replied in a cold and distant tone... The man flicked the stone as held the lighter under the cigarette, he lit it and after puffing it he examined the small pink object, his expert eyes needed only a second to determine why Anon held it in such high regard; the scratches, the worn stone… The man reached over to the pocket where his cigarettes rested, packed like sardines on that cheap paper casket, he took one out and extended his hand towards Anon, who hesitated for a second before taking the cig and the lighter back, placing the cigarette into his mouth he lit it quickly before stashing the lighter into his pocket once more.

Anon breathed in before quickly letting the smoke out while the man enjoyed the taste of the cig while the woman seemingly entranced, filled out the endless government papers stashed between the pages of her notebook. It seemed like another staring match was about to begin when the man broke the silence: “Listen kid” the man paused and looked at the cigarette burning between his fingers, his hand held up in front of him while his elbow rested on the table, Anon still held the same blank expression his hands gripping his knees bellow the table while more of the cigarette turned into ash under his nose “it’s been a while since it all happened, things have more or less ‘normalized’, at least on the bureaucracy department” he placed the cigarette back on his lips, they gripped it firmly as to not let it fall yet softly as not to crush the feeble filter, the man’s lungs demanded more smoke, another puff, another long drawn out breath and another exhale, more smoke filled the room. “There’s been a development, and ‘they’ believe you can help” At last, Anon’s facial muscles betrayed him, he ditched the poker face and leaned forward on his chair, then extended his hand over the small ashtray to tapped the cigarette on the filter. The man continued, noting Anon’s change in posture “we have received reports of -“ the man was cut off before he could finish the sentence, he and Anon turned their heads towards the woman. “We believe that your ‘partner’ was spotted near a wooded area on… [the woman turned her head slightly towards the man, the man nodded] … sector D6” Anon, was still sitting forward on his chair, he felt the blood leave his frozen legs, his eyebrows taking off towards the ceiling while his eyes became dinner plates, his jaw dropped into a free-fall towards the tiled floor held in place only by his colour-drained cheeks, what was left of his cigarette jumped and freed itself from his maw, Anon brought his hands up and covered his face as he slowly crumbled into the edge of the table.

The woman looked down at her notebook, she picked it up and opened her mouth to start reciting whatever was written on the page, but before she could utter a word the man exhaled his last puff and crushed the but on the ashtray, he spoke up: “We need you to head in there and confirm these reports” he spoke in a stern and imposing tone, the man pushed himself closer and put his palms on the table while Anon tried to look up between his fingers “there is a very high chance that she will remember you" the man paused and looked down at the scar near his watch "we need your help Mr. Mous”