Thunder Rolling

by Ripley Proserpina

  She yawned. “I don’t want to sleep, but I think I’m going to have to.”

  “That’s how you heal and you don’t end up a zombie like the rest of us.”

  She elbowed me, gently. “Watch the z-word. I hate it.”

  “You can only use it if you are one. Therefore, I get to use it.”

  She groaned and then after a few moments was asleep on top of me. I sighed and settled in, glad to not move for a bit. Brandon walked over to the bed, looking down at us. It was a small bed, but I scooted over, bringing Whit with me so he could climb in the other side. She made a small sigh, and Brandon slid next to her.

  I nodded at Carson across the room. Okay, we’d be quiet now. I took a quick accounting of where we all were. Isaiah was out cold. Carson wanted to be. Brandon was too tense about Mace to rest and needed to be close to Whit to get through it. Dante was missing but presumed safe, for the moment. John was…

  Where in the fuck was John? I looked around. At what point had John gone missing?

  “Hey, Brandon,” I whispered loud enough he could hear me. “Where is John?”

  Brandon looked around, double-checking like he had to make sure I wasn’t blind. “Did he go to the bathroom?”

  We both jerked our heads to look. No, he wasn’t in there. So Brandon didn’t know where John was either. What in the fuck?

  I gently pressed Whitney against Brandon and got out of the bed. John didn’t tell anyone where he was going. That couldn’t be good. It meant he didn’t want us to know.

  29

  Dante

  Karlton leaned against the steel table. “So now you know everything. What do you think?”

  Now I knew everything… He said it like I hadn’t always known just how evil and depraved he was. Like I didn’t know how much he enjoyed fucking with people’s heads and lives and calling it science.

  A couple sat on a couch, visible only to us. The man had his arm around the woman, supporting her as she leaned into him.

  And strapped to the table in front of me, the one Karlton rested on so nonchalantly, was another man.

  “Peter.” Karlton opened a file. He backed away from the table, but not before tapping the folder on the man’s chest. “Peter knows the woman in there, don’t you?”

  He pulled at the cuffs holding him to the table. His newly healing skin wouldn’t be up to the strain he was putting on it. At the rate he was going, he was going to wear it down to the bone.

  “What’s your relationship to her?” Karlton asked. “How do you feel about her?”

  It was automatic. Immediately, my eyes went to the EEG. The machine was tracking the electrical activity in his brain. I watched the read out, translating it like it hadn’t been years since I’d done so.

  My breath hitched as the activity spiked. There. There was the anomaly identifying him as someone with something… extra. I didn’t know what it was yet, but I knew it was there.

  “He attacked her?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the man who glared back at me.

  “Fucking bitch.” He spat at me, but I didn’t flinch. “She got what was coming.”

  He made me sick. Glancing back toward the couple, I studied them. The woman’s skin was pink, healthy, but the man next to her wasn’t. Like Peter, he was healing. And like Peter, he used to be dead.

  Controlled.

  Karlton had found the couple, or they’d found him, as misfortune would have it. And he’d taken advantage of the opportunity.

  The woman gripped her head and rocked, moaning. The man paled and stood. He walked to the window. “Get the fuck out of our heads!” He punched the window, again and again, until his knuckles were bloody and swollen. His shoulders heaved as he turned to face the woman again. “I’ll fucking kill you motherfuckers.” The last was said hollowly.

  In him, I saw myself: devotion. Fear.

  He’d stop at nothing to save the woman he loved.

  On the table, Peter laughed. “If this is all I have to hurt her. I’ll use it.” He shut his eyes and the woman in the other room cried out.

  Enough. I grabbed a syringe and inserted it into the IV. In seconds, Peter was out, and the couple in the room were quiet.

  “They’re a circuit,” I said. “That’s clear. But how is this man part of it?”

  “That’s for you to find out.” Karlton slapped the folder against my chest. “I told you everything you need to know. She’s psychic, clearly. I think he is, too. But Peter? He’s a mystery. I don’t know how he connected to her, because it’s clear he hates her. And the feeling is mutual.”

  “What’s their relationship?” I asked. “Ex-boyfriend?” My mind immediately went to Mace, standing outside Whitney’s door, and Dexter, undoubtedly hidden somewhere nearby. “Brother?”

  “Nothing close to her,” Karlton answered. He wore a wolfish grin, and his eyes danced. Sweat beaded on his temples and he swayed from side to side excitedly. “But him? Peter is that man’s brother. He was one of Dexter Lake’s Controlled before we brought in the couple. It wasn’t a day before he…” He seemed to be searching for what to call it. “Woke up.”

  Now that didn’t make the slightest bit of sense. It had been hell to wake up from Dex’s control. People didn’t just wake up when they saw their loved ones. I’d seen it a million times. People begging at the feet of their dead loved ones to see them, to not be Controlled anymore. And then nothing. Well, sometimes the Controlled killed them. That happened more times than not.

  “That’s got to be coincidence. Not correlation.”

  Karlton grinned. “That’s what I thought, too. And then the most remarkable thing happened.”

  The man did like his dramatic presentations. “Which would be what?”

  “They synced. What you’re calling a circuit. You see…sometimes spouses do that. They fall in love and what they are really feeling is the circuit joined between them. Rather common, I think.”

  He was stretching. “You’re going to have to do a better job than that at explaining it. That’s not true.”

  “It is, Dante. Surely you’ve heard the stories. One spouse knowing when the other is dead. When the other needs them. When they’re scared.”

  I sat down. I hadn’t missed these discussions with him, not even a little bit. “Intuition is not psychic. We’ve discussed this before.”

  “Agreed.” He smiled. “Debbie, bring Joy-Anna in here.”

  Joy-Anna turned out to be the wife, escorted in to us by Karlton’s long-term assistant. I used to think they were sleeping together, but now I really thought it had nothing to do with sex. It had to do with worship.

  To her credit, Joy-Anna struggled. Debbie shoved Joy-Anna and before I could even begin to understand what was happening Karlton shoved a knife straight into her hand. She howled out in pain as I jumped to my feet. But what happened almost simultaneously was what caught my attention even as I pulled the knife out of her poor wounded hand and tried to stop the bleeding by ripping off part of my shirt.

  Both Peter and his brother reared up in pain as though they had been stabbed with the knife. Fuck. Karlton wasn’t wrong. They were in a circuit. But how had that happened? The circuit was formed with consent, with the potential for love if the love was not already there.

  That Uncontrolled on the table hated Joy-Anna. She cried, big tears, and I thought I said something comforting to her as Debbie hustled her along.

  I rounded on Karlton. “How did you connect them?”

  His smile was cruel. “I didn’t, Dante, you did.”

  “I’ve never seen these people before in my life.”

  He shook his head again. “You have, even if you don’t remember. They were with you while you were under the temporary control of Dex.”

  “I was surrounded by hundreds of people, thousands. I’m not responsible for them becoming connected to people they loved or hated. Stop stalling.”

  He pointed at me. “You’re responsible, Dante.”

  A bang sounded and into the room ca
me two men, dragging John in with them. He was out cold. My stomach clenched. “What did you do to him?”

  “I knocked him out. He stepped out of the room. I have no idea why, but we knocked him right out. Whitney might have noticed if you hadn’t closed the circuit. When he wakes up, he’s insurance. His little ability? He’s going to use it to make you do just what I want.”

  Karlton didn’t know John. If he expected to give an order and for John to follow it, then he’d be disappointed. John was a thousand times more likely to order the bastard to stab himself in the dick.

  Peter was still sleeping on the table, though his face was twisted in pain. Karlton pressed a button, darkening the window so I could no longer see Peter’s brother and his wife. John was left on a chair, hanging off it like a drunk.

  Oh boy. Karlton was going to get quite the surprise once my friend awoke.

  30

  Whitney

  John was gone. No one knew where, but they weren’t worried.

  I was.

  I reached out for them, but I couldn’t feel them. In fact, I could barely feel the circuit at all. Instead of a path of energy swirling around me, it was more like goosebumps, or a chill that I could easily ignore. I didn’t like this.

  “When do we open the circuit again?” I asked.

  The four guys in the room exchanged a loaded glance.

  Carson spoke first. “I don’t know. It’s a question I’d defer to Dante if he was here.”

  His words weren’t meant to hurt me, but they did.

  “I don’t think we open it again until we are certain you’re healed,” Brandon said. “We drained you, and while we’re here, there’s no telling what people will do to us.”

  My stomach soured. He didn’t want to connect us using the circuit because he expected he would be injured. I met his gaze, and I saw in it the belief.

  The certainty.

  But I was certain, too. There was no way in hell I was letting anything happen to them. I didn’t care if I was sucked dry. If they were hurt, I would fix them.

  “As far as we know,” Isaiah said, “there have never been circuits before. There’s no roadmap for us to follow. But why would it exist in the first place if it was only going to destroy us?”

  I’d like to have believed the same thing.

  “It could be a by-product of the Infection,” Nick offered. “You know. The thing designed to kill us all. It’s not a big leap to assume this is also designed to kill us all.” He suddenly shook his fist at the ceiling and threw his head back. “Kill them all!”

  Brandon jumped. “What the hell, Nick?”

  “Bad guy impression.” He dropped his fist and lifted his eyebrows. “Too much?”

  Blinking slowly, he turned away from him. “We’ll have to play with it a little.” Nick snickered, but Brandon ignored him. “Turn it off and on.”

  Nick snickered again.

  “Jesus Christ, you’re a child,” Isaiah said, dryly.

  But I loved it. I didn’t mind Nick’s bad jokes and the way he was always one joke away from getting punched in the face. Not by me. I found the whole thing endearing, but I could see it wore on the other guys. It was just who Nick was. He dealt with the scary stuff by teasing.

  “I like his jokes,” I said to everyone. “Even when they’re ridiculous.”

  “My girl gets me.” Nick took my hand and kissed me on my head. Ugh. I couldn’t wait to be better and all this gentle forehead kissing, lingering hugs, and handholding could be over.

  “My opinion?” I was probably the least qualified in the room to give it. I’d never been Controlled, I had no science background, and my IQ had never been tested, but I doubted it reached the level of my guys. Still, I was the one with the psychic power that had linked us. Besides, what was it my father used to say? Opinions were like assholes, everyone had one. If mine made me that way, then so be it.

  Isaiah nodded. “Yes, tell us, then Carson and I have to go play zombie.”

  I groaned. “I hate the z-word. Anyway, my opinion? Things went askew because I got sick. And we have to keep that in mind, for sure. If I catch horrible man-made flus that should kill me, then yes, we’ll have to limit this circuit but right now? It’s actually bothering me that I can’t feel you. You guys are like… food for my soul. I feel half okay and honestly I think I might feel a little better if one of you would open the damn circuit.”

  Brandon cleared his throat. “Fuck.”

  Nick elbowed him. “Jeez, Brandon, there’s a lady present. Watch your fucking language.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Guys.”

  A surge of energy moved through me and like a bolt of lightning struck my body and somehow didn’t hurt me, I could feel the circuit again. We all jumped, the guys doubling over the second it happened. For one moment, I saw the circle that had been in my dreams, the one where we’d connected. The scene flashed through my eyes before the hospital returned into my vision.

  Warmth flooded me. Yes, this was what I needed. This was as essential as air. And maybe we’d needed to deny it to survive for a little bit, but not permanently.

  “Brandon?” Isaiah shoved at him. “We were still discussing it.”

  “It wasn’t me.” He lifted his head and glared at Carson. “But I can guess which one of us did it.”

  He nodded. “That’s right. It was me. When she was sick, we made decisions for her but she’s in her right mind. A cognizant adult can make a decision about her own health. Whitney wanted it back. She gets it back.”

  It only took a second for Dante and John to rush back to me, too. I let out a long breath. Yes, they were okay. I could feel both of them. They lived. John was… groggy. He’d been asleep. Why was that? The jolt roused him. I wasn’t getting much else. Dante was…pissed. I sent him love through the connection and hoped he received it. I did the same for John.

  “All right.” Newly energized, I was sick of being in this bed. “Isaiah, Carson, go do your thing. We’re getting the guys. John’s just waking up and Dante is okay.”

  Isaiah rubbed his eyes. “Very unlike him to take a nap. Something is going on. We’ll find them. Mr. Makes-Decisions-For-The-Rest-Of-Us and I will figure it out.”

  Carson rolled his eyes. “Too long a nickname to stick.”

  “Oh yeah? Isaiah stormed ahead. “Watch me use it. I’m determined.”

  Nick sat down on the edge of the bed. “Remember when he used to be zen?”

  31

  Isaiah

  It wasn’t until Carson opened the circuit, flooding me with energy, that I realized how drained I’d been. In the last few weeks, I’d gotten used to the continuous boost.

  Sleeping and eating took a backseat to fighting and running, and my body had been okay.

  Probably another reason Whitney got sick. All of us had been feeling so good, we’d pushed ourselves a little further than we should have.

  “Who’s coming with me?” I asked.

  “Me.” Nick laughed, head thrown back, hands on hips, as Whitney pushed herself out of the bed.

  “Get back in there.” Brandon pushed the words through clenched teeth. He stood in front of her before her feet touched the linoleum.

  “Brandon…”

  “I’ll go,” Carson said. He stood on the other side of Whitney’s bed. She turned her head to look at him, and the smooth, white column of her throat distracted me. My lips had grazed that skin before, and I remembered how soft it was.

  “I can help,” she said, and I saw her swallow.

  “I know, but just give us one more day,” Carson said. “One more day of rest.”

  She sighed, and I knew he had her. Brandon moved to help her, lifting her legs and then tucking the sheets around her body. He kissed her neck and a surge of jealousy welled inside me. When I found John, he was going to owe me. I wasn’t sure how he was going to pay, but he could have napped here.

  Lucky me, hiking all around to find him.

  “How will we contact you?” Whitney asked.
It was a good question. I felt the energy in our circuit, felt that it was complete, but I couldn’t identify one of my friends from the other. “I can feel Dante and John… I feel you all… but I don’t know if I can contact you this way.”

  That was interesting. “Try,” I said.

  She shut her eyes tight. The energy seemed to shift, like water diverging over stones in a river. “Do you feel that?” she asked, opening her eyes.

  “I felt something,” I said. “Was it to me?”

  She nodded. “Let me try again.”

  “Don’t go overboard,” Brandon warned, and she nodded. I noticed that she didn’t get angry with him for his overprotectiveness. She had a similar way about her when Nick went off the rails. He amused her, and she watched him, fascinated, whereas I was ready to gag him.

  “I won’t,” she said, taking his hand.

  She shut her eyes, and I felt it again, the shift in energy. “Are you sending me a message?” I asked.

  “Yes.” She opened her eyes, and her shoulders sagged. “You didn’t get it.”

  “I feel the shift,” I said. “I would notice it even if I wasn’t looking for it.”

  “I didn’t feel anything,” Nick said. “So whatever you did reached the right person.”

  Whitney looked toward the wall before turning back to us. “I guess that’s something.”

  “It is,” Carson said. “But Nick is the receiver, send him something specific.”

  “Something dirty,” Nick clarified.

  Blushing, she nodded and shut her eyes again. Nick suddenly burst out laughing. “That wasn’t what I meant by dirty!”

  Whitney giggled, and it was the best sound in the world.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “I thought about mud.” She shrugged, face still flushed.

  I laughed. This girl.