Cataclysm, Pt 8

Your eyes go wide as you realize that the two of them are doing exactly what you're doing now - they're reading each others' minds! Or rather, they're picking up what they're transmitting! You're utterly stunned at experiencing what Telepathy looks like.

So stunned that you don't notice the two of them staring back at you. Well, not for a few moments, anyway. It occurs to you that you're projecting your own thoughts, and that's allowed them to read your mind.

You redden at the realization that you literally butted into their conversation.

It's fine, you read from one of their thoughts.

We've been practicing how to control what we think, projects the other. I guess now we gotta practice how to keep them private, too, haha! Wanna join us?

You do your best to project specific thoughts in response, but find it difficult to do. It's mixed in with your anxieties and self-edits and everything. It occurs to you that you tend to think the same thought three times in a row, each time reinforcing certain things, tweaking other things, as though in search of the perfect thing to say.

All the while, all other sorts of thoughts flit in and out of your mind.

So as always, it comes out all wrong anyway.

All you want to say is something like, 'Hell yeah, let's do this!' But nothing of the sort actually happens. Your thoughts seem like a tangled, jumbled mess, which is perhaps an appropriate mirror of how your mind actually seems to operate.

Yet somehow the words surface through the muck regardless. Certainly not unscathed, and very likely in need of heavy translation.

The two of them grin on 'hearing' what you have to say.

That looks familiar, thinks one. His thoughts come with a sense of joviality. And of recollection. They feel so palpable that it's almost as though you feel them coming from you.

Don't worry, thinks the other. Takes a bit of practice to get your thoughts straight. Took us two, what, an hour to get to this point?

You nod, but before you take a seat with the two of them, you turn towards Kaja.

"Hey, I gotta do something for a bit," you tell her. "And it might take a bit of time. Also it might look a bit weird."

"Oh, you mean weird like the three of you staring at each other wordlessly for the past minute?" she jokes. "But yeah, I get it. I was gonna go see if I could help out on the clinic floor anyway. So knock yourself out."

She stops herself just as she's about to step away.

"Actually, don't knock yourself out. And also, I'll go see about getting you some headache meds," she continues.

"Oh, good call," you reply.

You turn back to your two new friends as Kaja steps out to go be an actual help.

It doesn't come to you often that you feel excited to do something, to learn more. Maybe it's because you feel like you're never good at anything, except for a few things. Maybe it's because once you zero in on something, you can't help but really dig into it.

At least, until you get bored.

Maybe it's because you've now got pretty cool powers, and can actually make them even better. Anything that will help you become more useful yourself.

How could you not want to know more?

OK, let's do this, you blurt out somewhat chaotically and clumsily.

~

It takes the better part of an hour - maybe two - before you finally take a breather. Practicing how to shape your own thoughts is so much more exhausting than you first believed, to the point where you feel utterly drained mentally and physically.

But it has been well worth it.

You can better sift your mind and present what you want to present with so much more clarity. Sure, your mind's still chaotic as anything, and all that still comes through when you try to project your surface thoughts, but certainly nowhere as loudly anarchic as before.

More importantly, you're able to shield your surface thoughts with much better ease. In fact, this is made even easier because of how your brain operates in the first place. It's a bit like hearing a constant white noise in the background, enough to distract from whatever else passes through.

Of course, the more you practice it, the better you'll get at it.

Since your body's feeling incredibly drained, you instinctively go to one of the vending machines out in the hallway. You eye each of its offerings in search of what could best satisfy a deep craving. When you spot it, you pull out a few crumpled bills from your pocket.

From behind you Kaja says, "This one's on me."

She puts her hand on yours, the one that's holding your cash, and lowers it. Then she reaches out with her other hand towards the vending machine, and with a quick flick tugs one of the snacks out of its coil tray.

It falls into the dispenser below, and ultimately fish it out moments later. But you frown at the package in your hands.

"I was going for the ChoccoBar," you say. "Not this…"

You glance back down at the package to read what's printed on the front.

"This… All-natural, Organic, Made with Love cookie thing."

"I know, I know," she replies with a smile. "But you need real food, not a brick of flavored sugar."

You grumble slightly as you break the package open and nibble on your snack. It's not bad, but you definitely had your heart set on that chocco.

"Hey, did that naproxen from earlier help?" Kaja asks, her eyes on you as you eat.

"Dunno honestly," you reply. "Still kinda feel that throbbing pain whenever I try anything. Even while I was practicing Telepathy with those two… It definitely distracted me from fully concentrating. But to answer… it mighta helped. Maybe just didn't hurt as much. Can't really tell. Uh, thanks for the meds anyway."

Kaja grimaces as you speak, seemingly frustrated at being unable to help you.

"How's Dad, by the way?" you say.

"He's doing good," she replies. "Got a few staples in his head now, and all bandaged up the proper way. But they've hooked up a saline IV into him since he lost too much blood. So he's resting up for now, probably best overnight.

"Said we shouldn't have moved him that much, in case he passed out along the way. Good thing your Dad's a tough old man or he might not have made it at all."

You exhale at length at hearing that he's alright. It occurs to you that you probably haven't been as worried about him as you should have been. Because the nurse, or whoever it was that said it, is right - he shouldn't have been walking around.

Another bite of your cookie seems to energize you a bit. Or perhaps it's the good news about Dad. Or maybe you just needed a cookie, who knows? In any case, you feel a bit better.

"Hey, Kaja?" says a voice from behind both of you.

You turn to find one of the nurse practitioners. Her scrubs are a bit messy with dirt and dried blood, and she herself looks tired to the bone. Perhaps even more than you. How she's still standing is beyond you.

"Thanks for helping out back there," she continues. "We really appreciate it. So please, take this."

She hands Kaja a relatively robust, rectangular bag. Inside it appears to be three smaller bags, all exactly like the other.

"Individual first aid kits," she says. "IFAK for short. Should be one for each of you."

"Thanks," you reply. "And thanks for looking after Dad. I know you didn't need to. None of you do, I guess."

"World's gone berserk, and the only thing that still makes sense is to do what we've always done. Could say we're doing this for ourselves, too. Keeps us alive."

"Speaking of which, what's next?" asks Kaja. "I mean, none of us can possibly stay here forever."

"Yeah, I think your break room's almost outta food," you add. "Though at least you've got this vendo to help out a bit."

The nurse nods, then leans on the wall opposite. A sigh escapes from her lips, and you think that perhaps it's the first break she's taken all day, and has decided to make the most of it. Then you realize that's what you seem to be reading from her surface thoughts.

Because she's not purposefully projecting it, you absorb them as though they're your own.

You quickly shut it off, not wanting to pry into her thoughts and emotions further.

"That's definitely a problem. And we could probably get more if we need to," she says after a moment. "Real problem is we're gonna run outta meds, eventually anyway. Plus this place isn't exactly safe. If someone decides to attack us, say for those same meds, then we're kinda ass out, aren't we?"

"Two tired orderlies with shotguns isn't much of a security system," you say.

"Exactly. Which is why we're thinking of moving shop. Taking everything we can and finding a more secure place to hold out for a while."

"Where would you go, though?" Kaja asks. "Towards the city center? Closer to the general hospital?"

"No no, nothing like that," the nurse replies. "Ben, one of my orderlies, he's been listening to AM/FM all this time. Most signals are emergency recordings, others just songs looping over and over. Some are people calling out for help.

"But there's one - official military. Says they're gathering everyone up at the stadium, along with supplies, and keeping everyone safe. Or as safe as they can, from whatever these bugs and animals and whatnot that's out there."

"So you're all headed there, then?" you ask. "Maybe we oughta go with."

"The more the merrier," the nurse says. "And safer too."

"Not a bad idea," Kaja says. "We'll think about it."

You turn your head at Kaja, unsure why she wouldn't jump at the chance to be with other people. If anything, you're the one who would shy away from them. You've never been a people person. But her? Why?

"You oughta head up to the roof then," the nurse says. "When I need to do some of my own thinking, I like to go up there."

She then leads you two down the hallway and opens up one of the janitor closets. Inside is a bunch of cleaning supplies, along with a couple of rickety lockers.

Set into the far wall is a metal ladder that leads up past the drop ceiling, and further to what is presumably the hatch to the outside. The two of you shrug and head on up - why not, right?

You swing open the hatch and climb the rest of the way out onto the strip mall's roof above the clinic. Although you were expecting sticky black tar up there, instead you find gravel spread out evenly everywhere. It crunches nicely under your feet.

All manner of pipes and AC units and whatnot are laid out all over the top in order rows. Close to the clinic's large AC unit is a couple of lawn chairs flanking a rickety wooden crate.

Neither of you are very interested in what's up there though. What takes your breath away is the sky itself.

The sky has darkened considerably and is, you assume, reaching twilight. Regardless what time it actually is, a deep red color has completely overtaken the blue atmosphere, which sends an ominous chill down your spine.

More than that, you don't recognize a single star cluster that's up in the sky.

Kaja whistles low as she also scans the skies above you.

"Shit's changed, hasn't it?" she says.

"We've both changed too," you add. "Probably everyone down below."

"Like with these crazy powers, yeah?"

"Powers, yeah," you say with some hesitation. "Been thinking about grading them, scaling them. To help me make sense of it all and that sorta thing. Like I mean, you've got Telekinesis, right? And so did that shadow creature thing."

"You've got that Telepathy thing too, right?" Kaja adds. "Like those other two downstairs."

"Yep, and they're both better at it than me, which is why I kinda wanna grade it… You think it's stupid, don't you?"

Kaja laughs, not realizing that you can feel her surface thoughts fly out at you.

"Maybe, a bit," she confesses. "I don't think it's helpful to think I'm, like, a Grade Five Telekineticist or something like that. But I mean, you should still do it. What do I know, right? Maybe it would be helpful."

You purse your lips in frustration. Of course, it's just Kaja being Kaja, as always.

This is exactly what you mean when you say she's overbearing. Even when she disagrees with you, she can't help but support you. And it's frustrating for you.

Of course, you know this is supposed to be a good thing. People everywhere say that being supportive is the best kind of person to be for everyone else.

But for you, all it does is highlight just how much you're not good enough. Because you're constantly reminded of how much support you actually need, and you hate that. You hate feeling like some kind of baby, who needs coddling and caring for time and time again.

Although yeah, Kaja's being as helpful as she can, and she means really well, all you can feel is how truly inferior you are.

You know deep down that this is an issue about you and not her. But that's a fact and a feeling that you push from yourself as hard as you can. You just don't want to admit that you need that kind of help, and you crave to be a version of you that could be more like Kaja herself. To be the person who gives help all the time.

Instead, you're stuck as you.

And you hate that she's everything you could never be.