"Weird." She pulled the gun away, blotting blood away from my wrist. The pile of reddened rags in front of me was growing.
"How so?"
"There is a derecho coming." She put the gun back to my arm.
I looked away. "A derecho? Sounds like a cowboy thing, or something."
"It is a huge, drawn-out line of thunderstorms. This one's going to have hurricane-force winds."
"Will the camp be safe?"
"Probably not – we'll need to move out soon."
I need to warn Susan and Alex.
"How much time do we have?" I asked.
"Not even a day – we'll probably leave this afternoon."
I wondered what that meant for the prisoners; and for Marissa. I closed my eyes and reached out, searching for Clay. He was standing with someone – an Earth. Her heartbeat was racing; his was slow and steady.
Sheri was still talking. "You might have some pain with fresh tattoos on the march. But there ain't no stopping that storm – too powerful. It really is too late in the season for derechos, and the developing patterns were all wrong, but it's coming."
My eyes widened. Bee was still near, and the freak storms were still following us. We couldn't fool Mother Nature with even a little separation.
Scalpel-like sensations dragged across my shoulder. I twitched as fire went down my spine.
"Stay still," Layla, standing behind me, mumbled.
Above us, clouds moved in and the entire world seemed to go a few shades darker.
"We might need to move this outside – for the light," Sheri suggested.
Rain drops drizzled over the tent.
She sighed. "Guess we'll just have to make do."
My shoulder was finally going numb to the pain. I barely noticed when Layla stopped.
"Done with the back and neck."
"Done here, too." Sheri said.
They pressed clean gauze against the new tattoos and secured them with medical tape.
"Want anything on your legs?" Layla asked.
"No." I mostly wore pants, anyway. "Something on my face, though."
Layla's eyebrows rose, "Do you have anything specific in mind?"
"No," I answered. "I just don't want to look like me."
I caught them exchange a glance.
Layla smiled. "Kind of hard to do, unless we perform minor surgery." Stepping to the side, she surveyed me. "But we can do something subtle with your profile. And maybe some permanent eyeliner, and a darker lip shade…"
"We can continue what I did on her shoulder," Sheri suggested.
They both stepped around, discussing the canvas that was my body. When the needles came back on the two women worked alternately, tying in the pattern on my shoulder over Shawn's scar with another design on the side of my neck, going up to my face. It burned and pinched; cat scratches on a sunburn.
I stared at Layla's shoes as she worked. Her hands remained steady, but she tapped her foot like it was a nervous tick. Her tattoo gun felt like a sharpened pencil, scraping off my skin, cell by cell. I tried to concentrate on the beat of her tapping foot.
The side walls of my tent blew in and out, so far holding strong against the growing wind. Voices outside went from groggy, still recovering from the festivities the night before, to concerned. Shouts to break down the tents and secure loose items sounded around us. Inside, my two artists barely spoke, intent on their work.
"I'm out of black," Sheri said.
"Finish outlining in dark purple," Layla mumbled. But one by one the colors were beginning to run out.
After working on my eyelids, eyebrows and lips, they moved on to the detail work alongside my cheek and temple, ending on the side of my forehead. I gritted my teeth. My entire head vibrated as if they were inking directly onto my skull.
I wasn't sure I could let them finish, it was too much. "Wait—"
"Someone need a doctor?" I was cut off by a small form at the opening to my tent.
The needles stopped. Thank God.
"Yes, are you Sabrina?" I started to push myself up off the cot.
"No need to get up, I can work on you from there."
"Oh…okay," I reluctantly laid my head back down. I couldn't even rest it on my arms, covered in fresh, still bleeding tattoos as they were.
She came around the cot, set down a small stool near my head and took her place. Without asking, she began running her fingers through my hairline, pressing into my scalp. She glanced at the tattoo artists. "You may continue."
Darn.
The needles started back up, but the newcomer's fingers were distracting enough. "Erika told me you were having an issue with your powers. Did you hit your head?"
"Yes." One of the needles pinched extra hard as I spoke.
"Damn it," Layla mumbled.
Sabrina took no notice. "Any other symptoms?"
"Headaches, and my ears seem to be ringing a lot."
The needle pinched again.
"Ugh, no more talking!" Layla said. She wiped her brow, flexed her hand a few times, then continued.
I shut my mouth. I needed this to be over with about two hours ago. The wind was picking up even more and I needed to get word to Alex and Susan.
"Okay, I'm just going to poke around and see what I can find out," Sabrina said.
Isn't that what she has been doing?
I glanced up to see her close her eyes. I didn't dare try to tap into what she was doing. The last thing everyone in the tent needed was to be puked on. My head tingled, and the ringing in my ears started up again.
It stopped all at once when her eyes flew open.
"What's the matter?" I asked. She was staring straight ahead, eyes still wide. She didn't answer me. She just got up and started for the tent flap like she had a sudden case of small bladder. "Wait!" I yelled after her.
She stopped just outside, turning her head to address me. "Not much we can do for a concussion. Take some aspirin when the pain gets bad; in time it will heal."
I stood up from the cot. "I mean, what about my powers?"
Thunder rolled overhead like an ominous warning.
Now she turned to face me full on, and cocked her head. "You said powers, not power."
Chapter 31
No More Tears
Sabrina left in a rush, leaving the tent flaps unzipped. They fluttered in the strengthening wind. The low buzzing of tattoo guns ceased all at once. Layla and Sheri wiped down their instruments and stowed their now empty jars of ink.
"Are we done?" I asked.
Layla looked up at me, putting away the last jar. "It's all gone."
"Oh, right," I said, furrowing my eyebrows. "Can you get more?"
Layla rubbed the back of her neck. "Not unless we come across a very talented Earth to sniff out Iron Oxide, Cadmium, and the dozens of other metal salts used to make ink."
Both of their eyebrows went up. I did just declare myself to be an Earth.
"Sorry – power problems, remember?"
Sheri mumbled under their breath. "Figures - Earths can't do all that much, anyway."
I don't think I was meant to hear it, but I answered anyway. "We can do enough."
"Like?" she asked. It wasn't a challenge, more like a distracting conversation for her as she placed her tattoo gun back in its case, perhaps for the last time.
Layla stepped forward, bandaging up the side of my face. "Keep these on the next couple of days. We'll find you and check back in – see how they are doing."
I nodded, then addressed Sheri's question. "I can tell you where Marissa is, right now. And I can send help for her and her sister."
Sheri turned around, putting her hand on her hip. "Okay, I'll bite. Where is she and how can you send help?"
Layla answered before I could. "She is probably with your friend Clay, where you sent her."
"No," I shook my head, standing up. "No – she's with the prisoners. They're all running. And…" I closed my eyes, concentrating. "They aren't being followed. Clay probably ha
s the guards distracted."
Sheri and Layla stopped what they were doing, staring at me.
"How can you know that?" Sheri asked, her hand dropping from her hip.
"It's an Earth thing," I said.
"Maybe we should go see," Layla glanced at Sheri.
Sheri nodded, slowly. "Just in case she needs help."
"Okay," Layla said. She zipped up her bag and pointed at me. "You – you take care of yourself, and those tattoos."
Sheri followed Layla outside, and I followed Sheri.
"If you find them, they need to go northeast. Tell them Alex can help!" I yelled after them.
Layla waved her hand over her shoulder, acknowledging me as her pace quickened.
"Thank you!" I yelled louder, but they were already over a hill.
I grabbed my backpack and raced for the perimeter of Erika's camp. It was difficult to establish, now that most of the tents were rolled up. I had been keeping tabs on the only non-magical person the past few days; Alex. They were still nearby, and so far each of the patrols had missed them. I paused, making room for three large guys pulling a truck bed with no cab. Crops and vines stuck out the top and hung over the side.
Behind them were barrels, each pushed on a dolly. As one came near, the top blew off. The convoy stopped as everyone raced to catch the apparently irreplaceable lid. I stepped toward the barrel, peering inside. A pile of gold and brown curly hair sat on top of rotting vegetation. Erika doesn't waste time.
The lid was replaced, plunging what was left of Kaitlyn into darkness and stench. I swallowed hard, and continued my sprint, reaching out for Alex as I went. I found him, much closer than he had been before. And Susan and Bee weren't with him.
Oh God, I told myself. Something went wrong. A strong headwind picked up, working against me; like running through mud. Despite the wind and rain, my skin felt like it was on fire. The elements scraped across fresh wounds as my physical exertion stretched them tight.
I crashed through a set of bushes, and ran right into Alex. We both bounced back and hit the ground, hard. I pushed myself up, straight into the barrel of a pistol. Alex turned off the safety with a steady hand.
I glanced up at him. "You haven't had bullets in that thing since D.C."
"Oh my God – Kaitlyn?"
His other hand replaced the pistol. I took it and he yanked me to my feet, embracing me in a bear hug. "What did they do to you?" His hands ran through my hair and over the gauze covering my tattoos.
I winced, pushing his hands away. "Nothing, I did this to me. I had to change my appearance."
Lightning struck dangerously close. Screams came from the camp.
Alex licked his lips, glancing toward the screams. "I was coming to get you. Susan says a huge storm is coming."
"I know – which is why you have to leave me behind." I stepped back.
"What? No – come on. Bee and Susan are waiting for us."
He tried pulling on my arm, but I pulled back. He raised his eyebrows.
"A group of prisoners escaped. People from Robert's camp, and some we picked up in Evansville. Also – someone named Marissa, and her sister. Can you make sure they are taken care of?"
"Why don't you make sure? Come on." He turned, but I didn't follow.
"She's going to be okay, you know," I raised my voice at his retreating silhouette.
He stopped in his tracks, hunching his shoulders like I just knifed him in the back.
"Bee is…" I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat. "She's going to be fine. As long as she is with you and Susan."
He turned, his face contorted in pain. "Don't do this…" I could barely hear him.
"Go north – or maybe east. Get to the hybrid power station on the Great Lakes so I'll know where to find you. I'll go west with One Less; until I've done what needs to be done. Then we can reconnect."
He stepped forward. "We can figure this out, these storms. It'll be dangerous to separate." He put his hand on my shoulder.
I winced again, ducking out of his grasp. He was left holding his hand out in midair. "What is happening to you Kaitlyn?!" He yelled above the wind.
I placed the braid of my former locks in his hand. "I'm not Kaitlyn anymore. I can't be if we're going to survive this." I closed his fist around the hair. "Take care of her, Alex."
I turned away, forcing one foot in front of the other as fast as they would go. There were no tears, no more aches in my chest, and no more heavy stomach. My world had gone numb.
Chapter 32
Finish It
The pads over my fresh tattoos were soaked, many hanging off my skin. As I walked, I ripped them off. The rain helped to take the sting away. I shut down the electrical signals I used to pinpoint people. I couldn't be witness to a retreating Alex, Susan, and Bee. Shawn had managed to take them all away after all.
I skirted the perimeter of the camp. Most likely, my stuff had already blown away.
I'll just keep walking until everyone else is ready to move. It was mindless work, one foot in front of another.
A flash of yellow on the trail in front of me broke me out of my trance. A rain jacket. Someone was moving quick and staying low, keeping between the largest shrubs. I followed.
"Stop!"
I froze in my tracks, racking my brain for an excuse as to why I was out here.
"What are doing?" the voice demanded.
I turned, opening my mouth, still unsure of what was about to come out. Twenty feet in front of me, the yellow rain jacket person stood, arms in the air. A guard stood in front, pointing his weapon at them.
I ducked behind a tree.
"I said, what are you doing? Everyone should be back at camp, packing up."
A woman's voice answered, "I have information to deliver that can't wait. I need to catch Shawn's group before they leave."
I know that voice. I crawled closer.
"Do you have clearance?" the guard asked.
She held up a note. He snatched it out of her hand, unfolded it, and read. "Is this for real? You've found the one he's been looking for?"
My heart jumped up into my throat. I peeked around another tree and saw Sabrina, nodding.
"Very well then." He handed back the note. "Did you report to admin before you left?"
She shook her head. "No. Admin is compromised. But the issue will be resolved soon."
He lowered his gun and motioned for her to pass. I crouched down behind the tree. The guard walked by on the other side, continuing his rounds. As soon as he was out of sight, I stood and sprinted in the direction Sabrina went. I slowed only when I found the yellow.
I had to stop her, at all costs. She probably detected my powers when she attempted to heal me. She already knew about my hair and tattoos. It would all be for naught if I let her get to Shawn.
With the storm getting louder and louder, sneaking up behind her was easy. I matched her steps, closing the distance between us. I picked up a large, round rock. My fingers gripped its curves as I held it up and back, preparing for the strike.
Thunder cracked overhead. I swung, connecting with her temple. She crumpled and lay still on the ground. I threw back the yellow rain jacket, revealing a thin line of blood trickling down her face. I pawed at her body until I found the note. Just as I unfolded it, the sky opened up in a downpour. The paper, and all the words on it, melted in my hand.
"Goddamn, handmade paper!" I threw the note down, stomping it into the ground, finishing it off. My backpack fell off of me, its contents tumbling out.
I stopped stomping; the note didn't matter, I knew its message. I just had to make sure no one else did. I looked down at Sabrina. Her chest still heaved with the steady up and down of breath. I wiped my nose, squeezing the rock in my other hand for reassurance.
Limbs still heavy with the numbness that had overtaken my entire body, I raised the rock again. This one struck her cheekbone. Another one higher – on her scalp. Bile rose in my stomach. I fought it down, striking faster now, trying to
finish the job before my conscience came knocking.
I walked around the body and kicked at her face to turn her over. I started in on that side. I've killed before, I told myself. This is nothing.
But it was something. It was murder with my bare hands. Up close and personal – with no powers to do my bidding. Her face caved in. She was no longer recognizable as Sabrina the Healer.
The wind beat against us, flapping her annoying coat in my face. I tore it off her. Thunder boomed overhead every few seconds, it seemed. I continued to strike, each one landing home. My arm ached. I hit and hit and hit until a strong gust of wind blew me back against a tree. My head bounced against it, hard.
Lightning struck the tree I was against. I looked up, just in time to see a burst of electricity and huge branch, tree-sized itself, fall. I dove to the side, covering my head with my arms. The ground reverberated with the crash of wood on ground.
I peeked out, the lower half of Sabrina's body hung out from under the branch.
Get up, I told myself. Make sure it is finished.
I pushed myself to my feet, and climbed over the fallen branch. Her head was still visible. I blinked away the fuzziness and stared at my masterpiece. She looked at me, one eye open. The eye blinked. I gasped.
I jumped over the rest of the branch. My feet hit something solid and round. The Chalice.
I leaned over, and put on a glove that also came out of my bag. I picked up the Chalice with a shaky hand. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. My fingers traced the rim of the cup once, then down, closing around the stem with a solid grasp.
I opened my eyes and looked at Sabrina, raising the Chalice above my head. I gritted my teeth, met her eye, then brought the Chalice down hard. It only took one blow; her temple shattered.
I turned and doubled over, vomiting. I stayed crouched for several minutes, emptying my stomach. Finally, I stood, wiping my mouth – hands still shaking.
Trying to avoid looking at the body, I collected everything that came out of my bag. The Chalice lay near her head, splatters of her blood dotting the interior.
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