by Tara Ellis
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, making his way slowly to Missy’s bed. Sitting gingerly on the edge, he looks up at me. “I’ve been thinking about it on my way here. I’m still not sure why I had to do that, but it likely has something to do with me feeling like I have no control over anything anymore.”
“Or maybe you’re just jealous?” I throw at him. He winces again, this time like I sucker-punched him. “Even though you have no reason to be,” I quickly add, already regretting the statement. Sometimes the truth doesn’t necessarily need to be explored from every angle. I’m angry with him, but Chris is still my best friend, and the last thing I want to do is hurt him.
“Are you sure about that?” he asks, painfully pushing himself up to stand in front of me. “Because there is some sort of odd connection between you two. Seth is obviously attracted to you, Alex, and while you seem to dissuade him, there’s still a palpable chemistry and it drives me crazy.”
Suddenly needing to feel his arms around me, I step closer to him, and look up to meet his gaze. His dark hair is still loose, and I reach out to run a hand through it, but Chris shocks me by roughly grabbing my wrist to stop me. “You didn’t answer my question, Alex.”
Although I’m doing my best to block him out, his emotions are too strong, and I’m too weak. There are so many conflicting feelings coursing through me, that I can’t tell anymore which ones are my own. I fight to gain control and close my eyes, wanting to cover my face, but Chris refuses to let my arm go. “There’s nothing to answer!” I finally spit out, forcing my eyes to open. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. Maybe the connection is that we’re both Nephume, and shared some thoughts and dreams, so there’s a familiarity there that is out of place. Nothing has happened between us Chris, if that’s what you want to know. How can you even think that, after what he did to me?”
Finally releasing me, his nostrils flare as he pushes his hair back from his face and stands looking at me. If I didn’t know him so well, I would think he looked a little dangerous. With this new perspective, a part of me is even more attracted to him, and I’m surprised by it.
“Maybe you’re right,” he concedes, crossing his arms and squinting as the sunbeam shifts just enough to fall on his face. “I guess I am a bit jealous. But it’s only because I care about you so much, Alex. I don’t want to see you hurt. By Seth…or by me.”
“How could I be hurt by you, Chris?” I ask, surprised he would say such a thing. “You’ve never done anything other than help me and everyone else. You’re the most unselfish person I know, and I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
He laughs in response, only not with humor. Shaking his head at me he turns away, but not before I see the expression on his face. I’m stunned by it. “You talk as if I’m better than anyone else,” he counters, confirming my impression of self-loathing.
“You know, when I was at a pivotal point in my life not that long ago, I was fortunate enough to have a man I respected point me towards God. Because of him, I chose that path instead of so many of the other escapes that several of my friends fell victim to.”
I’m confused at this drastic change in subject, but I can tell that whatever he’s telling me is important to him, so I listen carefully, sitting back down on my bed.
“My father left me and Mom when I was two, and I’ve never really had a family outside of the two of us. I found refuge, encouragement, and love from my church family when it wasn’t available anywhere else.” Still not sure where he’s going with this, I remain silent as he sits down next to me.
“That man that had such a huge influence in my life was Coach Johnson. I wasn’t there to protect him or his family when the Mudameere took them, Alex. I couldn’t keep our Pastor from dying of the Holocene virus, or help Professor Hassan and his wife. The same way I wasn’t able to protect my mom from her loser boyfriend and the heroin.” His voice rising with each statement, he jumps back to his feet and faces me, eyes blazing.
“I couldn’t even protect you from the Mudameere and Seth!” he yells, slamming his fist on the wall behind him. “So don’t you try and tell me that I’m any better than anyone else here, Alex, because I’m not.”
In the following silence, I can tell that he wants to run, but I’m not about to let him. With the inhuman speed that only I am capable of, I block the door and grab him by the arms. Any other person would likely be leveled by such a move, but not only am I physically stronger than he is, I know that he would never hurt me, in spite of what he thinks of himself.
“I’m sorry, Chris,” I say urgently, and rush on before he can interrupt. “I’m sorry for being selfish and thinking that this was all about me. I’m sorry for taking advantage of your friendship and not being there for you, the way you have always been for me. It isn’t that I think you’re better than anyone else,” I say quickly, knowing he wants to argue against himself. “But you’re a caretaker, Chris. That’s what you do. It’s what you’ve done your whole life. You naturally want to protect and lead, and everyone else gets used to it and then expects it, even when it isn’t fair.” I can see his face soften as my words hit on the obvious truth, and I relax my grip a little.
“Only you haven’t failed us, we’ve failed you. Your dad made the choice to leave. Your mom chose the heroin over you, and everything else that’s happened the past couple of months have been so far out of your control that it would be impossible to succeed at protecting us all. I should have come to you and talked about Seth last week, but I seem to go out of my way to avoid conflict. In fact, I’ve gotten so good at it, that before we met, my only other real friend lived in another state. Because simply being involved in other people’s lives create conflict and it means emotional involvement. I’m not very good at that if it’s outside of my family bubble.”
Grinning at me now with that crooked smile he sometimes wears, he steps towards me and moves his hands up to my face. “So how about me? Am I inside the ‘bubble’?” For some reason, his question reminds me of what we’re facing, both now and in the unknown future. I wonder again at how much my own emotions are influencing him, and I flash back to the sight of him walking out into live fire. My eyes suddenly filling with tears, I avoid his gaze by leaning my head on his broad, comforting chest.
“Yes Chris, you are definitely inside the bubble.” His arms wrap around me and fulfill the hug I’ve been longing for, but mixed with it is a bittersweet pain. How can I allow myself to love anyone right now, when it might get them killed? How can I possibly put any of my wants or desires before the war that we’re destined to fight together?
“I think it’s safe to say that we’re both a little messed up right now,” he murmurs into my hair, and I know that he’s sensing my emotions. He knows how torn and conflicted I am. Nodding in confirmation, I pull back just far enough to see his face.
“I won’t be able to do this if I don’t guard my emotions, Chris,” I choke out, and he stops me with a soft, brief kiss.
“I know,” he whispers, our foreheads touching. “But we’re connected now in a way that goes beyond emotions. That’s enough for now, Alex. I have faith in you.”
Pulling back, my brows furrow as I try and make sense of that. “But I almost got you shot! How can you have faith in me when I can’t control my thoughts? I don’t even know how I’m supposed to use these gifts that the professor gave me.”
“That’s only because we don’t understand it yet.”
“We?” I ask.
He pauses, stepping back from me, and I briefly wonder how long it will be before I feel that way again: safe in his arms.
“I think I’ve had something to do with it,” he tells me.
“Do with what? My controlling you?”
“I was thinking about you both times,” he explains. “At the meeting and when we were out on the range. I was also close to you, which is partly why I was thinking about you.” He blushes slightly at the explanation, but continues. “Then today, as Seth and I were
facing each other, I couldn’t help but think about what you might feel for him, and I suddenly felt your presence. Look, I know you’re afraid to let me in, and I agree with you that we need to put aside our own desires right now. But I think that in order for you to develop this ability of yours, you need to practice.”
“Practice?” The idea of using Chris as my guinea pig is not appealing, but I know there aren’t too many options. I’m relieved that we finally acknowledge what’s been happening and are working together to figure it out. I have no doubt that as a team, we can accomplish anything.
NINETEEN
We start the next morning. I originally planned to keep this between the two of us, but it was obvious when Missy got back to our room last night that I needed to talk. It didn’t take long before I told her everything. I guess Chris did the same with Nate and Kyle, because they were all discussing it later over dinner.
By the time we’ve gathered in the central family room after breakfast on our only day off, everyone is in on it; including Seth and Benuk. Mom, Cindy, and Lisa are all gone exploring the base with Natalie, but Jake insisted on being a part of this too.
He’s actually surprised us with his performance during our training. Dad taught him how to handle a rifle, and he’s completed two different hunter safety courses, so he’s good on the range. Where he’s excelling the most though, is in logistics. Jim’s been thrilled to take him under his wing, and Jake’s been learning more than any of us in radio communication and mapping.
Sitting on the low, not-so-comfy couch, I stare at the coffee table in front of me with its random items placed on it. A hairbrush, coffee cup, tube of toothpaste, piece of paper, and a book. Chris suggests that I try to make him do things, but I flat out refuse. Instead, we settle on me trying to influence which things he picks up. It seems much more harmless, while at the same time an adequate test of my abilities.
Everyone else is sitting around me, except for Seth. He’s pulled a folding chair into the far corner of the room where he’s now straddling it, a deep scowl on his face. He doesn’t approve. His blonde hair has gotten a bit long in the past three weeks, and he started to grow a beard, although at this phase it’s just a thick shadow. It somehow adds to his dark, sultry personality rather than just looking scruffy. I quickly shut down that train of thought, but still notice the bruising and swelling on his face before I look away.
It was obvious last night at dinner that he hadn’t fared any better than Chris in their fight, but neither one of them went to the doctor for their wounds, or complained about it. Chris is almost back to looking normal this morning. It must be because the virus has had a similar effect on his ability to heal.
While the two of them are far from being buds, it appears that in some twisted way, Benuk was right. Last night they actually spoke to each other without arguing, and then this morning, they discussed an upcoming class. Taking a breath, I let it out in a rush and give my head a shake. I don’t think I’ll ever understand men. At this point, however, I don’t care how it worked. I’m just relieved to have some of the tension removed so that we can concentrate on what’s important.
“Are you doing it yet?” Kyle asks from across the table, looking at me eagerly. Reminded that I’m the only one apparently distracted now, I try to clear my thoughts.
“No,” I reply simply. “Come sit next to me, Chris,” I suggest, patting the cushion beside me. “The closer we are, the better it works.”
Complying without comment, Chris sits down and then looks at me in anticipation. Reaching out to lift my long hair back behind my shoulder, he smiles and then squints, tilting his head slightly. I can’t help but blush a little, knowing that he’s thinking about me. Turning back to the table, I randomly pick the brush and focus on it.
After about thirty seconds, the atmosphere in the room has grown heavy with expectancy. “Well?” Kyle finally asks. “Anything?”
“Shut-up, Kyle,” Nate counters, hitting his friend in the arm. “Give them some time.”
Smiling at Nate, I look back at the table and switch to the book, thinking that maybe if I read the title it’ll have more of an impact.
“Try to project,” Benuk suggests. “As if you are speaking to yourself in your head. That is how you described your thoughts when it worked on the Shiners.”
Taking his sound advice, I try reciting a direction to Chris to pick up the book repeatedly in my mind. After a couple of minutes, Chris finally reaches out … and grabs the brush. Exasperated, I take the brush from him and slam it back on the table. I chose the toothpaste next, and try picturing him brushing his teeth. After several more minutes, he picks up the book. “No!” I say in frustration. “Aren’t you getting anything?”
Shaking his head, Chris turns me back towards him. “You’re still blocking me out,” he says, and I know that he’s right. I’m afraid of the emotional aspect of all of this, and I was hoping that I could separate it. Sighing, I close my eyes and tentatively let the wall down a bit.
Unprepared for the strong reaction, I gasp slightly and try not to recoil from it. Chris goes a bit rigid, but quickly recovers and takes my hand. Encouraged, I reach out a little with my mind and find that he’s all around me. His consciousness is like a cool mist billowing, and if I move towards it in my mind, I can feel him. Right now, the emotion he is experiencing is a cautious adoration. That’s the best way I can think to describe it. As I try to explore it further, to better understand it, I dive deeper into the mist until it’s more like the consistency of water. It covers me, and begins to surround me with a weight that threatens to pull me under. I can’t define any one emotion, but several, no…hundreds all at once. They begin to blend with my own until I’m not sure where Chris ends and I begin. Panicking, I slam the wall back into place and fall away from him, whimpering.
Missy is already at my side, supporting me. “What happened?” she asks, a worried look on her pleasant face. Unable to answer yet, I allow her to cradle me and concentrate on my breathing. A pounding headache is starting to develop.
Standing slowly, Chris rubs at his eyes and crosses over to the far side of the room, near Seth. “Maybe you were right,” he says to him, leaning against the wall next to his chair.
“Well, I told you all that this was stupid,” he responds, spreading his hands to include everyone in the room. “Chris isn’t even a Shiner. How do you know that this is going to work the same way on them?”
Kyle scowls at him, but Nate nods in agreement. “He’s got a good point. What we need are Shiners. Real ones.”
“I can help with that,” Zane interrupts. Looking up, I find that the older man is standing in the entry, and I’m afraid we’re about to find out what he means.
***
We’ve already descended several levels below the medical facility, and are now following Zane through a maze of corridors. I still get lost in this place. Especially once we go underground, because everything looks the same. If it weren’t for the different colored signs for each section, and scattered maps on the walls, I would probably still be wandering endlessly down here.
“Where are we going again?” Kyle asks, pushing his way up next to Zane. He’s been rather close-mouthed with us, saying only that it’s a ‘restricted’ area. Looking sideways now at Kyle, he smiles good-naturedly and shakes his head.
“You’ll see soon enough,” he answers, and turns yet another corner.
Nate, Chris, and Missy are all walking in front of me, with Seth and Benuk bringing up the rear. Zane insisted that Jacob take Baxter with him to see Jim in the radio room, because he had a new transmission this morning and wanted him to help decipher it. I could tell that Jake didn’t like being separated from the group, but the temptation to work on a code was too great. Zane was a smart man.
Entering another dark stairwell, I note that according to the maps we passed a few minutes ago, this level shouldn’t exist. I thought we were already on the bottom floor. My elbow is cupped from behind to slow me down, and I
know without looking that it’s Seth. “This is getting weird,” he whispers.
“I’m sure the senator has a good reason for this,” I answer, gently pulling my elbow away.
“Perhaps,” Benuk states, “but secrecy is often associated with keeping something hidden that others would disapprove of. I think it’s obvious what they are hiding down here.”
My anxiety increasing, I follow the rest of our group through the heavy metal door at the bottom, and see immediately that this section is very different from the others. The walls are actually painted, there are intercoms (now dead) set into the walls, and what looks like large windows spaced every twenty feet or so down the hallway. A large, metal sign is set above another door at the end of the corridor, and big red letters read ‘Maximum Security’.
Drawing out a set of keys that I’ve seen only a couple of other times, Zane approaches the door and unlocks it, motioning us through. On the other side, several armed guards salute the senator. Although there are numerous lights scattered around the space, it’s still gloomy, and I imagine it’s hard for everyone to see. But not for me. I can see all too well.
On the far end of the large, cavernous space is a huge wall of glass. Stepping towards it, I cautiously begin to cross the hundred-foot span. Missy calls out to me, but I ignore her, distracted by the low hum beginning to resonate in my head.
At about twenty feet away, I can see that there’s a dozen or so people gathered in the room on the other side of the window. They all have their backs to me, engaged in what looks like various tasks laid out on tables. I manage to take two more steps before the swelling noise forces me to stop. I can hear Zane ordering me to come back, but I’m transfixed by the people who have now frozen, and are slowly turning towards me as one.