Catharsis

by Adrienne Lecter

  Nate kept watching me like a hawk, paying very little attention to our surroundings—or was he really? I jumped a few times as a flock of birds took flight or something cracked in the underbrush as we passed, and every time I noticed him react. Not as much as I did, maybe not even on a conscious level, but his attention turned this way or that, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side. Subtle shifts—like what someone did who had the same level of awareness as I’d woken up with, but had had years to fine-tune his reactions.

  I got the feeling that, somehow, Parker’s actions from last night had loosened some kind of safety lock on my system. That very idea was creepy as hell.

  My suspicion that this was exactly what was going on strengthened when it was our turn to do forward recon, and I gave the guys a good run for their money. Nate had looked borderline mutinous when Red called us forward, but even if I had been dragging myself on with my teeth, what else should he have done to keep everyone else from being suspicious? I held back until we were out of sight of the main group, then set a pace that felt more like what my body wanted to do. My whole body was singing with the need to move, pain or no pain. Going faster made my life hell, but rather than dull from the agony, my senses seemed to sharpen further. Ducking behind cover was the worst part, forcing my torso muscles to work, but as long as I was running or walking I could handle it. Of course, Nate and Burns both noticed that rather than hang back, I took point even when Nate tried to hold me back.

  Moving was one thing. Fighting quite another. I didn’t want to test that theory so I did my best to stay away whenever I saw anything about that could have been a shambler, or caught that distinct note of rot and decay in the air. We avoided all but one nest, two shamblers hiding in a ditch by a small access road, but Nate and Burns took care of that without needing any help from me. As we returned to the others, Red was watching my every motion cautiously, and he seemed to come to the same conclusion as Nate and Burns had: I was functioning, so no need to draw any more unwanted attention to me.

  Even so, I really needed a break at noon, spending the entire time sitting on my pack and shoving food down my gullet. My body was close to shaking with exhaustion, but the last few days—before the fever had set in—had taught me that some of that was due to not enough energy to burn. So refueling was what I did, until my stomach ached but my muscles stopped spasming at weird intervals. No longer did I need Nate’s reminders to keep a close eye on my fuel gauge. I didn’t miss the partly satisfied look reaching that very conclusion painted on his face. I chose to see that as a good sign. If my behavior was something both he and Red were obviously familiar with, I must be on the right track.

  We were up and moving for thirty minutes again when I realized that I hadn’t taken any of the supplements that Raynor had packed for me. I considered getting them from my pack on the move, but didn’t when that sense of hyperfocus continued to last into the day. In the morning, I’d had the sneaking suspicion that the pain had somehow forced me into dipping into reserves that the serum helped access, but I knew not just from Nate’s tales that it was impossible to keep that up for that long—or without a lot of willpower and determination. I wasn’t doing anything except maybe trying to mute my senses, certainly not enhance them, so it couldn’t have been a temporary effect. I was starting to see why Nate hadn’t been that heartbroken in the end for me to get shot up with the serum, all immunity effects aside. This was kind of awesome.

  We ended up making camp in the thick of a forest, some kind of wooden deer stand structure the only real cover we found, so that and some tarps turned into makeshift tents would have to do. I asked Gita to switch watch shift with me, then tracked down Nate before he could disappear with Red for their nightly powwow. “I need to talk to Parker.”

  Nate didn’t ask, just nodded. Ten minutes later, the medic got up to relieve himself, presenting us with the perfect opportunity.

  We waited until he was done with the actual part of it, then Nate came after him, grabbing him so he could slam Parker’s back against a thick oak tree, a hand over his mouth immediately stifling his cry of surprise. I listened for anyone coming from the camp, but couldn’t hear anything from that direction. Parker had been stupid enough to pick a part of the perimeter that would be empty of patrols for the next five to ten minutes, more than enough time for me to do what I had in mind.

  Coming to a halt behind and a little to the side of Nate where Parker could see me as he was still trying—in vain—to break Nate’s hold on him, I pulled out the plastic baggie I’d retrieved from the bottom of my pack. Holding it up to Parker’s face, I shook it, making the pills inside dance. “I’ll make this quick. Just answer my questions and you can be back with your buddies in no time, and still able to function.” Maybe that last bit was overkill, but considering that tonight was the first time in fucking forever that I was feeling remotely like myself, I had a reason to be pissed off. Parker gave one last push, then went slack against the tree, blinking once to show that he understood. “Good. We’ll let you talk in a sec. What exactly is this shit that I’m supposed to take every single day? And please be so kind to point out the psychotropic mood stabilizers so I can skip them from here on out.”

  Nate had been staring at Parker the entire time—likely what intimidated the medic more than finding me stalking toward him like a hissing cat—but that last bit made his head whip around, his eyes intently searching my face. I did my best to give him nothing. With luck, Parker would provide a better response than I could have in the first place. It was relief to see Nate’s surprise was genuine, although I hadn’t expected a different outcome. I knew that some things he could reason with keeping from me, but actively screwing with my mind was a little above even him.

  Our exchange happened in less than a second, and when he glared back at Parker, Nate was his usual stoic self. “Don’t scream. Just answer her questions, and you’re good to go.” He then carefully removed the hand covering Parker’s mouth, but not the arm that was still pressed across his upper torso and windpipe.

  Parker inhaled noisily, but thought better of the shout he was evidently gearing up for. It took him a little too long for my liking to tear his nervous gaze away from Nate to focus on me instead, but nothing I could do about that. I didn’t necessarily want to follow up on my threat. The point was not to alert the rest of the camp, particularly Bucky.

  “This is how you repay me saving your fucking life?” Parker spit in my face.

  I tried to make my shrug appear as casual as possible. “Am I grateful that you cut me up without painkillers or any other form of anesthesia? Yes. And I know you’re not responsible for this shit, or else we wouldn’t be having a pleasant chat right now. But it would be irresponsible for the powers that be not to have informed you of what exactly is going on with me, which makes you the perfect candidate. Talk.”

  Parker wasn’t done yet, sadly. “If this is because you think I told Hamilton, that’s your own fault if he sniffed it out. I said nothing, to nobody. Fucking cun—“

  It didn’t require more than a subtle shift from Nate to cut Parker off. “If you’re done foul-mouthing my wife now…?”

  He waited until Parker’s face had taken on a slightly red tint before he eased up once more, letting the medic draw a stuttering breath. I wondered if more motivation was required, but, surprise, surprise, Parker seemed to have made the connection that my question meant that I was—literally—off my meds, and that alone gave me more confirmation than I’d wanted to get.

  “Most of it is vitamins and other supplements,” he explained, still eyeing Nate with unease. “I don’t know exactly what. Nothing’s strong enough to cause you any harm.”

  Or not. That was the most anticlimactic non-answer he could have given. He probably thought he was being clever. Well, two could play this game.

  Reaching into the baggie, I palmed about half of the contents as I stepped closer. “If that’s true, then I’m sure you won’t terribly mind demonstrating that, ri
ght?”

  As soon as my intent registered, Parker started struggling for real, almost managing to tear free. “You fucking insane bitch!” he whisper-shouted, smart enough not to force Nate to silence him again—or pry his jaws wide open to make my job easier. “It’s all set for your freak metabolism! That shit would kill me in under ten minutes!”

  “And there I thought you couldn’t overdose on vitamins,” I mused, allowing myself a nasty smile. “Spill it, or I’ll see for myself what this shit does to you.”

  Parker hedged some more, but then seemed to decide that his life—or wellbeing—wasn’t worth keeping silent over. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you! But first, you put that away, and you call your attack dog off as well, or no deal.”

  I thought about pointing out to him that I really had nothing to lose here so why should I negotiate, but Nate already backed up, going for an agreeable compromise. Parker stepped away from the tree immediately, but didn’t try to run off. In fact, the way he eyed our surroundings with unease, I wondered if he thought he would get in trouble if anyone figured out he was cooperating with us. Interesting.

  “I didn’t lie to you,” he insisted. “Most of it are vitamins and minerals and shit. Everything that your body needs but won’t get from the freeze-dried cardboard that we get to eat. But you’re right. There’s more.” He barked a brief laugh. “Should have guessed that cutting you up would boost your metabolism to where it shot over the threshold.”

  “Actually, it was the fever that addled my brain so I forgot to take almost two days’ worth that made some of that shit you’ve been feeding me wear off,” I remarked, but then thought better of it. “Why, what made you think you kicked my metabolism into overdrive?”

  “Because that’s what happens to you freaks when you get injured,” he said, snorting derisively in Nate’s direction. “You better teach her the basics if you want to keep such a charming specimen around.” When Nate didn’t react, Parker turned back to me. “There’s a combination of two pills in there that slows your metabolism to almost human rates, supposedly to give your body time to fully heal before you put it through shit that it won’t yet survive. My guess is, they added that so they could control you, to keep you calm and quiet. Judging from what you’re doing right now, you definitely should be on a double dose of that. But that’s it. Nothing that fucks with your brain.” His snark aside, he didn’t look all too happy explaining all that, and I didn’t get the sense because he was waiting for retaliation from either of us.

  “That’s all?” Nate asked. When Parker nodded, he jerked his chin to the side. “Get lost. And you better not breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  “You bet I won’t,” Parker grumbled as he took another step back. “They’d have my ass before they even considered what to do about you.” He turned to go, his shoulders squared, but then paused, the hint of a nasty smile creeping onto his features. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking Hamilton’s the only one that knows. I know you much prefer Richards to him, but maybe you shouldn’t, if you don’t like being doped up, none the wiser.”

  I waited until Parker was out of earshot before I turned to Nate, but he was staring off into the forest behind me, making me guess that the guard on perimeter watch had drawn close. So we waited, and then waited some more, until I started to wonder how else we could have spent that time. I didn’t mention that possibility, also because I knew that whoever Gita shared my watch shift with, this wasn’t her sector, and the last thing I needed was an asshole like Cole busting us.

  “What are you going to do now?” Nate asked, tearing me out of my musing.

  I shrugged, not sure how to answer. “I guess doing the same with Richards isn’t exactly an option?”

  “Remember how many of us it took last night to restrain you? The five of us wouldn’t be enough, and I’m not sure Tanner and Gita would be on board. Open confrontation, yes, but Tanner already gave me shit this morning that we’re trying to keep things on the down low.” At my surprised—and, without a doubt, disapproving—look, Nate chuckled. “Can’t hold it against him. From what he told me, they had massive issues with people ganging up on each other before they ended up in California, about to raise New Angeles from the ruins, and some severe trouble since. You know that you don’t need to doubt his loyalty, or Gita’s. You have it, at least until they’re back to report in with Greene. But maybe he has a point.”

  “So you think it’s okay that they tried to keep me sedated?” So much for considering getting up close and personal against that oak tree.

  Nate smirked as if he’d read my mind, but then the change in mood was likely easy to read in my body language. “Not without telling you about it. But I understand where they thought they could reason that entire consent issue away.”

  “It’s not just that,” I admitted, grunting with frustration. “This shit has been making me paranoid as a nut job.” When I caught Nate’s doubtful look, it was my turn to laugh. “Yes, I’m inclined to worry about less likely things happening even on a good day, no need to remind me of that. But if the last year has taught me anything, it’s to adjust my expectations accordingly. You can’t look inside my head. You don’t know how it’s been.” I paused, wondering how much to tell him, but there wasn’t any sense in holding shit back. Not after last night. “Ever since we landed on that beach, I’ve been perfectly miserable. Like, first days after the outbreak kind of miserable. Or, like when I was afraid that Madeline’s incessant pushing would make any of you guys expect me to put out as well. That’s when I had no confidence whatsoever in my own strength and was too scared and confused to know who to trust.” Looking at the pills in the baggie, I let out a miserable sigh. “One thing’s for sure. I’m not going back on that shit.”

  “I don’t think they intend you to.”

  Nate’s guess made me frown. “What makes you say that?”

  “Just a thought,” he offered. “You’re no use to them if you can’t think straight. You’re also no use to them if you’re too weak to survive. It’s a simple self-solving puzzle. If you pull through and get better, eventually, your metabolism would have started running at a rate fast enough to naturally work through any inhibitors, thus ending the usefulness of this farce.”

  “But wouldn’t that be the point where I needed the other shit more than ever? Those MREs really don’t make up for the lack of greens and vegetables in our diet.”

  Nate gave me a deadpan stare. “You’ve been subsisting on mostly meat and lots of rice and beans for months. A few more weeks of the same won’t make a difference.”

  I mulled that over some more, but didn’t come to a conclusion. “What do I do now? Risk staunching my recovery by missing out on some supplements, or spend the remaining weeks in Europe jumping at shadows?”

  “You have no way of telling which pills are what?” Nate guessed.

  I shook my head. “Some do look like those bullshit over-the-counter vitamins, but most of them are white with almost identical shapes. Not sure I could keep them separate even if I knew what is what.” I looked at the baggie one last time before I let it disappear into my jacket pocket. “I could ask Richards, of course.”

  “He’d likely deny there was anything in there that would make you go nuts. And there’s the chance that once he knew you were off that shit, he’d just tell any of the others to hold you down so they could force them down your throat. Is that really what you want?”

  “What makes you think he’d do that?”

  Nate hesitated. Never a good thing. “Because that’s what I would do in his place, if command had told me to make sure you keep munching your candy,” he admitted. “Besides, he doesn’t have to. All he needs to do is tell Hamilton, and he’ll gleefully set to the task.” And there was still the possibility that Parker had been lying.

  “So what do I do now?” I asked again, although I already knew the answer.

  Before Nate could give one, Bucky’s voice sounded from behind the tree where we’d messed aro
und with Parker, his usual sarcastic sneer in full force. “You should really keep your bitch on a leash, now that she’s shaken off the shackles we put on her.”

  I didn’t exactly whip around but it was impossible not to tense as I saw that he wasn’t alone. Several of his flunkies were along. In fact, it was easier to count who was missing—Aimes, Rodriguez, and McClintock, who were probably on watch detail. I was somewhat relieved when I saw Red among the so far silent onlookers, and relaxed a little when Burns cleared his throat, hoofing it over from the side of the clearing that was closer to our camp. Nate raised his brows at him, Burns quickly signaling that Tanner was with Gita. While my mind wanted to scream in paranoid anticipation of what this might morph into, I forced myself to mentally back down. None of them were wearing extra weapons, and while technically they outnumbered us, none of those who were friendly—like Red, Hill, Murdock, or Davis—had that pinched look on their faces that spoke of some kind of inner conflict. So presumably, we were just about to have a pleasant chat. Yeah, right.

  Parker was also missing, but while Bucky was still grinning at unveiling his presence with such a grand statement, I saw him scurrying up behind Red. If that meant he hadn’t ratted us out, Bucky had likely been planning this—just as we had been planning to pull Parker aside. Great. I was more than happy to go right off in Hamilton’s face, but Nate spoke up before I could, his arms crossed over his chest, his stance at ease.

  “It must be close to seventeen years now when I first told you that it says a lot more about you than whoever you’re trying to verbally abuse. Just cut the crap. It got old a decade ago.”

  Bucky grimaced, but it was still a superior grin that shone through, like he was gloating because of something we weren’t privy to.