Empath

by Emme DeWitt

  I wished I could ask her if she had any shield training or if she really didn’t have feelings at all. It was rude in a variety of ways, but my curiosity was getting the better of me. I had a feeling my question would just be another note in the comments section of my chart. She didn’t seem the type to take anything personally.

  White Coat and Blue Eyes took the direct route to my room first, presumably because Quentin was “sleeping” and incapable of swallowing meds. I wasn’t sure exactly what cocktail he got, but it didn’t seem to be affecting his powers at all either. Which was annoying. Almost as annoying as his self-righteous attitude about it.

  I heard the beep of the security badge from the other side of the door, but I didn’t open my eyes. My hair was splayed out in a halo around my head, and I was taking bets on whether it would be stepped on or not. White Coat was too meticulous, but Blue Eyes was holding a grudge. Such a thrilling game.

  White Coat cleared her throat above me, announcing her presence. I had felt her come in, but I indulged her by opening my eyes.

  “About that time?” I asked, feigning pleasantries as if she wouldn’t shove the pills down my throat if I decided I wasn’t feeling it today.

  “Yes,” White Coat said. “It is time for your medication.”

  She held out two small paper cups, keeping them just out of my reach unless I was in a seated position. Honestly, like I was dumb enough to try to swallow pills lying down. I swung my legs down from up against the wall and spun to face my captors, my back now appropriately vertical. Dutifully, I knocked back the pills with another generous thimble of water. I stuck out my tongue and flipped it up and around so they could be sure I hadn’t hidden the pills to spit out later.

  “Thank you,” White Coat said, retrieving the paper cups from me.

  “No, thank you,” I said dramatically, flourishing my arms out in an exaggerated seated bow.

  Blue Eyes postured at me, stepping forward slightly as if I were going to do something more sinister. I only rolled my eyes.

  White Coat and Blue Eyes let themselves out, and I crawled up into my bed. One good thing about being so petite was I could sleep diagonally on the standard issue sized twin bed. My limbs jackknifed in all directions quite comfortably as I readied myself for the first of many daily naps.

  The only real side effect of the latest dumb cocktail was intense drowsiness. They didn’t give me much to do anyway, so I wasn’t even mad about the frequent occurrence of naps. It helped me keep time. Luckily, it was a blissful black sleep untinged by nightmares. Sometimes I wondered if Adair really was that bored at night or if my own mind was doing too good of a job at showing me the worst possibilities it could cook up. I didn’t really want to give Adair any credit, but the peacefulness of my daytime naps always kept me guessing.

  In no time, I was asleep.

  “Evie!” Noah shouted. She was running toward me, but I couldn’t tell where she was coming from. Grey smoke surrounded her, and her feet seemed to be catching on the ground below her, making it difficult for her to run. My body was immovable, and I felt the heaviness of dread as I watched her reach toward me on her own.

  My lips moved to call out to her, but I choked, my throat refusing to move. Panicking, I tried to claw at my throat, but I couldn’t find my hands. They weren’t listening to my brain’s directions. I was completely bound.

  Noah! I screamed in my mind.

  Evie, you have to get out of here. Now! Noah’s voice pierced through my head with such force, I could hear ringing in my ears.

  Where? Where is here? What do you mean?

  I didn’t know how I’d gotten there or how to get out. I didn’t know if here was even a real place.

  You have to leave. Noah shouted in my head. Go, before they catch you, too.

  They already have me. I’m in New York. It’s too late.

  Noah howled in frustration, her body still barreling toward me with all her might.

  You have to stay hidden, she said to me desperately. They can’t know what you do, okay? You have to hide it. Hide all of it.

  I’m trying, I replied, but I don’t know what they know. The escape plan is not going well.

  Dream Noah looked over her shoulder, her face returning into view with a mixture of renewed determination and acceptance. Her mouth pressed together firmly before she let out another angry yell, this time the noise tinged with banshee vibrato. Even in this dreamscape, the hairs on the back of my neck rose up.

  You have to get out. You have to get to the others before they do. Noah called out to me, this time her lips still even in her dream form. All of them, Evie. We have to get to them before they can.

  I know! I know. I’m working on it. My eyes darted desperately around Noah, trying to find something I could focus on for a clue. A clue to where she was. Or even where she wasn’t, if this was a conversation in her Dreamscape rather than in reality. The smoke told me nothing.

  I’m trying to keep them out, but I’m not good at shielding. Noah said, her urgency dying away as I felt her pull back from the connection. They might see this. Be ready.

  Noah’s emotions were barreling at me full force, but seeing her face filled me with both relief and sadness. I couldn’t even help her, so how was I going to help all these mysterious kids? How could I even go about finding them? Sure, a few were at Windermere, but those known players were almost a lost cause at this point.

  We needed everyone else.

  An immense sadness washed over me, and all I wanted to do was reach out and touch Noah. She was my rock.

  I needed to get to her first. Then we could find the others together. I was doubtful I could do it on my own.

  I’m coming for you first, I thought toward Noah with resolve.

  Noah’s face blanched, and she shook her head ferociously, nearly tripping as her legs continued to pump in a warrior’s battle charge.

  No! You have to get out first. Get some people you trust. I’ll figure my own way out and meet you. I already have a plan. Noah’s head jerked back behind her again, and I could see her pace quickening even more.

  But you have to be on the outside before that happens, okay? They might use you against me if it goes sideways. Fear lanced through my gut.

  Got it?

  I wanted to argue, but part of me knew what she was saying was true.

  Promise me! Noah screamed, the panic in her voice piercing through the nebulous smoke cloud surrounding her.

  Suddenly, she flickered. I tried to scream, forgetting my voice was useless here.

  Evie! Noah’s banshee scream pushed through one last time, but her form kept shorting out. Every time she was gone for more than a blink, the smoky nothingness crept in to where she had been a heartbeat before.

  I gathered all the fear roiling around in the bottom of my gut, using is as fuel for what I was sure was the last transmission I could get to Noah, Dream or not.

  I’ll be out within the week, I promised. Don’t keep me waiting, or I will come find you and you will be very, very upset with me.

  Deal, Noah’s voice whispered in my brain, her image almost completely obscured by the rolling grey mist.

  I miss you.

  Stay safe.

  I jolted upright in bed, the sheets completely entangling my small frame several times over. I fought to kick them off. My frustration released into the room, and I tore savagely at the linen shackles, feeling the air around me crackle. The intensity of the fear that had filled the room scared me a little, but dissipated immediately once I pulled it back inside. If anyone else had been in the room with me, we would have had a problem on our hands.

  I took a series of deep breaths, counting loudly in my head until my heart rate was back to normal. Tentatively, I eased out a probe in my mind’s eye, checking if anyone in the vicinity had been affected by the emotional burst.

  Nothing pinged back as abnormal. Quentin was still asleep, and White Coat was refreshing her coffee in the break room. I couldn’t find Blue Eyes, but
I didn’t search very far.

  No one seemed any the wiser to my half-dream, so I did my best to untangle my sheets, make my bed, and pretend like I hadn’t just gotten a doomsday message from my banshee best friend two time zones away via astral projection. Any mention of that, and I most certainly would be getting a new series of medications.

  “You have a visitor,” the surly orderly barked in my ear. My fork dropped onto my lunch tray after my hand spazzed out in surprise.

  Dining alone when Quentin was zoned out had its perks. I took advantage of any opportunity I could to limit my interaction with him. He was such a drain on what limited energy I had, and his simpering commentary haunted me whether I was in his physical presence or not. More often than I’d like to admit, I wished Mags would have been banished over Quentin as my designated hostage buddy. At least she had some semblance of personality beneath her many, many layers of maniacal ambition.

  “Goodie,” I muttered into my reconstituted mystery meat. I recovered my fork and stabbed it savagely into the mountain of powdered potato mass I hadn’t yet tackled, where it stuck upright like a defiant battalion flag.

  I was not prepared for who sat across from me.

  “Yeah, can’t blame you for not wanting to eat that. Are those…potatoes?” a young male voice asked.

  My eyes flicked up from the tray a millisecond after my brain recognized his tambor. My shock sent a wave of joy out from me like a bullet. The orderly stumbled in surprise on their way to the door. Blue Eyes straightened from his negligent sentry duty against the far wall of the cafeteria.

  “Brendan!”

  The urge to launch myself over the table to hug him was so strong I had to dig my nails into my fisted palms. I saw Blue Eyes take a step toward me in my peripheral vision at my hint of movement. As extra precaution, I wove my feet back, around, and behind the legs of my plastic institutionalized kiddie chair. I would do anything necessary to savor this visit as long as it would be allowed. Oscar-worthy performance of model patient coming right up.

  Brendan returned a huge grin. “Good to see you too, chica,” Brendan said, his happiness filling the immediate space around him with a light glow. I hadn’t seen that color in so long; my fingers itched to reach out and touch it.

  I could feel a tinge of concern begin to cloud the clear warm tones, though, and the instant dimming of Brendan’s aura dampened my excitement. Reality swung back on me hard. That’s right. He was visiting his childhood friend in a mental institution. Why wouldn’t that worry him?

  “What are you doing here?” I said in a low tone. I surveyed our chaperones through quick glances, trying to gauge their level of attentiveness. The orderly had returned to some mild cleaning busywork, and Blue Eyes was slowly sinking back against the wall, assuming my threat level had returned to minimal.

  “Visiting you, silly,” Brendan replied. He sat comfortably in his chair, entirely at ease in this stifling setting. His shirt was clean and pressed, although it was a casual style. Just like always, his hygiene was impeccable, and the clean scent of his favorite aftershave calmed me as it slowly replaced the antiseptic stench in my nose. “I heard you had a little setback this week, so I thought a visit from a friend would encourage you to be on your best behavior.”

  His words slapped me in the face.

  “If you’re talking about me attacking a guard, it was a misunderstanding,” I hedged, not wanting to sour such a nice visit with a lecture about proper behavior. It took all the rest of my available willpower to keep the pout out of my voice. “And they’ve changed my medications to help with some of the…side effects that led to the misunderstanding.”

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, letting my fingers trail down the silky length to calm me. Even though it was Brendan, I was still embarrassed to have to talk about medications and side effects—mainly the hallucinations that haunted me waking and dreaming. Alarm bells of anxiety were beginning to grow louder in the back of my mind. I was struggling to focus on the present, the positive.

  Brendan nodded in understanding, a mild smile still spread across his face. “I know, and you’re doing so well,” he said, reaching his hand across the table, palm up.

  I reached for it hesitantly, not sure if I was allowed simple courtesy like a reassuring touch. My eyes darted around while my fingers inched slowly to meet his. He held my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Blue Eyes remained stoic against the wall.

  “Just keep up the good work, okay? Once you’re doing a little better with the medication, they promised I could take you on a day trip.”

  A weight dropped in my stomach.

  “Day trip?” I asked.

  How much longer was I going to have to wait to get bailed out? I asked myself. Something told me the promised day trip would never happen, constantly dangling just out of my reach. I couldn’t get too excited about it. Just in case.

  “Cool, right?” Brendan said, providing me another modicum of strength as his hand squeezed mine. “Any ideas on what you might want to do? We’ll have to get it approved, but I’m sure we could do almost anything. Maybe a bookstore? Or a picnic?”

  “Yeah,” I said. The corners of my mouth pulled up shakily in a weak attempt at a smile. I nodded my head as I tried to clear the lump in my throat. My hand grew clammy in Brendan’s firm grip. Walls of panic closed in on me as I spiraled down into a hole of anxiety. Fear colored my every thought, and all I could do was think about how I needed out. Like, now.

  “Sounds great.” The voice was mine. I was pretty sure. The noise in my head was too loud to be certain.

  Brendan’s smile faltered when he caught on to the dimming behind my eyes. The corners of the room were slipping away from my vision until I could barely see the impaled pile of potatoes only inches away from my face. The emotions of others I had kept at a distance rushed in as my protective barriers finally broke under the weight my panic. The orderly’s bitterness over the dried used gum on the underside of the tables. Blue Eye’s idle musings about which pizza he would order for dinner. White Coat’s anger about…something…

  I felt a pressure against my cheeks, and I could feel my brows furrow in annoyance. Why did my face feel so weird?

  “What happened?” a voice said.

  Female?

  Angry.

  “We were just talking, and she shut down. I thought you said the new medication was working!” a different voice said.

  Boy.

  Frustrated.

  Brendan?

  Why would Brendan be in the mental hospital?

  The back of my neck felt cold. My face was being moved back and forth, but I didn’t, and couldn’t, resist. Everything was falling away from my understanding. I couldn’t even be sure what was happening to my physical body. Trying to control my thoughts was harder than gripping a wet bar of soap. The harder I clung to a thought, the further it shot out of my reach.

  “Where were you?” angry female voice again.

  “At the door. I was watching the whole time. She was fine, and then she wasn’t,” defensive male voice said.

  Mildly annoyed and apathetic.

  Had to be Blue Eyes. I was feeling more sure about that the longer I thought about it.

  My face felt better, less squished, but I still felt like I was being jostled.

  Too much input, physical and otherwise.

  I was ready to surrender completely to the panic and just fade out, but the discomfort of being poked and prodded left me annoyed enough not to slip over the edge and into darkness. Flashes of emotion bobbed around, further distracting me from my peaceful nothingness.

  Why wouldn’t they just leave me alone?

  “Evangeline.”

  White Coat’s voice sliced through my despair, her tone inciting a tsunami of rage in me. She did not get to talk to me in that tone of voice. She sounded like I was some puppy who was caught chewing on her favorite shoe. She was about to get a talking to from me, and it was not going to be pretty.

  S
lowly, I pushed my barriers back into place. When I was this far under tow, I had to have strong visualizations in order for the amorphous energy in my mind to cooperate. On a typical day, they just stayed put without much thought. Once the barriers were disrupted, broken, or completely annihilated, it took my best imagination to create the necessary barriers. Today I chose a rusted iron portcullis with extra spiky edges to push White Coat and all her caustic thoughts back in their place.

  I felt warmth under my chin. My eyes blinked furiously to clear my vision. I needed to take in sensory information not linked to the glowing orbs of emotion burned into the back of my skull.

  I was not a fan of strangers touching my face.

  Suddenly, my eyes sprang back into focus, and all I could see was Brendan. He was cupping my chin, his face close enough that I could count the various dark flecks that made up his deep brown eyes. His eyelids crinkled as his reassuring smile spread across his face. Nothing but warmth was coming off him, and I lowered the hackles that had been bunching up in my shoulders.

  “There’s my girl,” Brendan said, dropping his hand from my chin once I held his gaze.

  I must have looked reproachful because an apologetic wave of guilt flickered through the relief in his aura. He knew how sacred I kept my personal space, so he inched back from my immediate breathing space and kept himself within sight. His hesitation to allow the various grumpy medical team members past my preferred acquaintance boundary did make me warm slightly back towards appreciation instead of annoyance. I was thankful, at least, for his small kindness.

  “I’m fine,” I said quickly, deftly blocking an attempt at a blood pressure cuff coming toward me. I was still seated in my chair, although it had been pulled slightly out from the table to allow for better access to my non-responsive frame.