Aftermath

by Meiling Colorado

  Up till then he'd had to try in order to discern what any given person was thinking. He saw it as a gift, but it wasn't easy. Then, suddenly, that had changed. People's thoughts had got loud. Really loud.

  His own change had made him aware of the changes happening in others. Coming up for air he leaned his head back against the rocky ledge, raising his face toward the setting sun.

  With hindsight, he realized he hadn't been ready.

  He had indeed seen strange things during the last ten years, but nothing to prepare him for what he witnessed now. His medical experience was limited to six years in medical school before the world as they knew it had gone to pot. And field work, of course, a lot of field work. As the closest thing the small community had to a doctor, they had always come to him, and he had dealt fairly efficiently, even if he said so himself, with a variety of ailments through the years. So when the fevers started everyone had come to him, too. And he had found himself floundering totally out of his depth.

  The children, who he would have thought, apart from the elderly, to be more delicate, proved to be more resilient. Most survived the initial sickness, with its terrifyingly high temperatures. Out of the fifteen teenagers who had contracted the strange virus eight had died, and only two adults had survived out of twenty.

  Sri had felt gutted. Taking into account this had been a small community to start with, the death toll was pretty catastrophic. He felt responsible, of course, but really couldn't see what he could have done different.

  The fact that he had been dealing with his own sudden leap in perception had been a double-edged sword, making him more aware of the suffering his patients were undergoing, which was devastating, but also allowing him to make his own tentative theory explaining what was happening, drawn from what he had been able to garner listening to his patients' thoughts.

  The little ones, although raging in fever, had accepted the changes, went along with them, as it were, without resisting. The closest he could come to explaining the mental image he got at the time was being faced with a monster wave and letting it snatch you to the top, instead of running away from it. There had been none of the fierce struggle the teenagers had put up, or the sheer determination to withstand and even ignore the changes he had witnessed in the adults.

  As far as he could tell, the changes had occurred regardless. His patients had emerged from their sick-beds transformed at a deep, even molecular level, or not at all.

  The results had been unsettling, to say the least. Apart from those who, like Sri himself, had suddenly, for some reason, found their innate senses heightened without undergoing any kind of sickness, those suffering the ´jump-start´ virus, as it had been christened, had developed some startling talents.

  Five-year-old Martha, for example, could make any bird or small mammal stay by her side, willingly, it seemed.

  David, himself nine, had quickly come to terms with his ability to move objects, some of them of considerable weight and size, from one place to another.

  No, the children had had no problem adapting. The adults, though....

  Sighing, Sri climbed out of the river, and on to the rock ledge, shaking his blond dreadlocks free of water. The silence, both physical and mental, let him know he was still alone. It was a rare luxury, this, and he let it wash over him. The community's problems would catch up with him pretty quickly, and Garand would soon be looking for him, too.

  The man had been a nervous wreck lately, having all but convinced himself his nephew must be dead by now. It wasn't benefiting his overall health, either.... Sri had noticed him favoring his right leg of late, and was sure he was hurting. That old injury had probably kicked in again. The man was as stubborn as a mule and wouldn't tell him, and had even learnt to ward his thoughts by doggedly ignoring the pain.

  He had argued with him on more than one occasion, trying to make him see that by sending Resnan off to seek help from their home settlement he had only done what he had believed correct at the time, but the man would have none of it. Guilt and self-doubt buzzed around his head in a never ending, exhausting reel. It made it rough for Sri to be around him at times. In fact, lately the lake was fast becoming his favorite place. He came here before bed, and would be here first thing in the morning.

  Lying back on the warm rock Sri decided to make the most of the stolen time, and took a deep relaxing breath. As much as he liked Garand, right now he was grateful for the break, honestly.

  Lillith was happy enough when they finally stopped to set up camp for the night. It was great to finally stretch her legs – it had been hours since their last pit stop – and she was definitely glad to get away from her travelling companions in the hustle and bustle of putting the tents up. Leiren's expression had been forbidding as ever and as her tent had, of course, been the first one ready she immediately disappeared inside to do whatever mysterious wise-woman things she had to do.

  Not that Lillith had been sorry to lose sight of her. She still wasn't sure what had happened back in the car, and felt decidedly uncomfortable when meeting her teacher's steely gaze. As for Lorenna, the red-haired woman had promptly taken off in a separate direction muttering something about firewood, a determined look on her beautiful face.

  The sun was already setting by the time Lillith was able to take a minute off from getting things ready, and to take a look around searching for Ren's tall figure in the quickly diminishing light. Catching sight of another tall if somewhat heavier silhouette she hurried across to his side. Benton was also scanning the small clearing chosen to make camp in carefully. Probably checking on security thought Lillith, looking around her with a small shiver. Looters, brigands, she had heard the stories all of her life, of course...and now here they all were, out in the open. Thank goodness for Benton and his ¨Warriors¨.

  ¨Hi there.¨ Stopping in his scrutiny of the surroundings to look down at the sound of her voice, the appearance of the short slim girl at his side seemed to catch him by surprise, strangely enough. ¨Er... is Ren all right?¨

  The hesitant note in her voice made him aware of how worried the girl was. She cared about his nephew, and he was surprised to realize how sympathetic this made him feel toward her.

  Not that he could really enlighten her…¨I believe so...your teacher will examine him more thoroughly now we've stopped.¨

  Benton saw the girl purse her lips when he mentioned Leiren. Too many damn hours stuck together in the car, he reflected. Half of the people in the expedition had probably fallen out by now.

  He barely noticed when Lillith mumbled her thanks and went on her way, focused as he was on monitoring Serbell's group pitching their tent. He had spotted them a while earlier to the left of the clearing, next to the perimeter marked by Mike and Len's tent. He'd split up his men in an uneven circle around the camp, two per tent. He himself occupied the fifth tent with Ren. On scouting the surroundings, they had run across clear evidence of human scavengers in the area, and even if the traces appeared to be weeks old he was taking no chances. Encounters with other people outside the settlement were known to be usually violent, if not lethal. The best he could hope for was safety in numbers; scavengers were not known to roam around in large groups, and appeared to spend as much time fighting each other as attacking their unwary prey. They would not risk a full-out battle if they thought they were outnumbered, and Benton had made sure the perimeter looked well-manned and defended if they were being watched by any hostile eyes hidden by the darkness.

  Benton felt a tightening in his chest as he watched Serbell's slight figure working around the darkening canvas shape of the women's tent, setting up for the night. As much as he craved talking to her now he knew it would have to wait until the wise woman had checked his nephew out. Nobody would get any sleep tonight until that was taken care of.

  Later, then.

  He knew exactly where to find her. Turning he headed back to his own tent before he could change his mind.

  Serbell had been aware of Benton's still, looming figure l
ong before he'd caught sight of them, and it had taken all her will-power to continue pottering around with the preparations as if she weren't conscious of his eyes following her. What was up with him? She had always been pathetically aware of his every move, but since when had he become so interested in her?

  She had done a good job of avoiding him the last two days. Though she was honest enough to admit to herself that he was the main reason she had pushed so hard to come on this expedition, she honestly wasn't feeling up to facing him yet. Which had been evident this morning; her treacherous body's reaction upon seeing him had betrayed her, and he had made it worse by making a bee-line in her direction. Terrified that she would in some way reveal her weakness for him, which she would find humiliating beyond belief, she'd been on the verge of bolting. She had braved it out, nearly injuring herself in her haste to get the sack she was carrying to the van and then, when she'd thought the danger was past, she had nearly tripped over him.

  What had the wretched man been doing so close?

  Damn! She could still feel the havoc his proximity had worked on her senses...the hardness of his chest, the warmth emanating from his body as he steadied her and prevented her from slipping on the muddy ground. Had he noticed? She was certain her blush must have been obvious in spite of her coloring. Serbell shuddered, gripped by a sudden longing...this was embarrassing, and she ought to know better. But although she berated herself she couldn't quite bring the heat she was feeling down. Which was especially humiliating in view of how quick he had been to go wherever that red-haired hussy wanted him.

  One thought stuck in her head, though. Something he'd said before he had left - hand in hand with the aforementioned hussy, she thought bitterly - which hadn't made any sense. Something about wanting to make up before leaving, or some such nonsense...but it was really the agonized look in his green eyes which had made the moment strangely relevant. It was like there had been something else behind his words, something she'd missed.

  So, how was she supposed to feel about his obvious interest in her now? Serbell didn't know how to take it, whether to be nervous or elated that he had at long last noticed her presence. The man had a reputation, after all, and, in spite of being seemingly oblivious to how many women in the settlement were attracted to him, he was far from inexperienced. She was no shrinking violet herself, but the intensity of her feelings for him made her worry she would be putty in his hands.

  True to character she slowly convinced herself that what she really felt was angry. Angry at herself for being so confused and vulnerable, and furious at him for making her feel this way.

  She was conscious he had gone even before she looked up to verify it. See-sawing between relief and the beginning of a strange echoing emptiness, she turned and headed to the supply jeep to fetch the sleeping bags.

  Busy, busy…don't think, just keep busy.

  Leiren's dark smooth features gave nothing away. Ren glanced at her and looked away quickly, unsettled. Maybe it was a trick of the oil light, but to his eyes there was something sphynx-like in the Healer's expression. He wondered idly how many years of practice it had taken her to achieve such a degree of stillness.

  How old was she, anyway? He had never been very good at guessing a woman's age, but as far as he could tell she could just as well be forty as a hundred.

  His uncle didn't seem too comfortable either, he reflected with a touch of amusement. The three of them were sitting on cushions on the ground, but Leiren was the only one who looked at ease. He sobered up quickly, though. He was the one in hot water here.

  ¨Young man, we are waiting for your explanation.¨

  And that was the problem, of course.

  He couldn't feign surprise, because she knew. She had probably known all along, and had just sat there like a frigging spider watching him stew during all these months. The thought infuriated him, and for the first time since the nightmares started he looked up at her squarely, deep brown eyes meeting grey, his anguish making him appear much older than his sixteen years.

  ¨What do you want from me, Leiren?¨ he spat, ¨You're the one with all the answers. You tell me!¨ Ren heard Benton's sharp intake of breath and felt him tense up next to him. Leiren had probably never been addressed in such a disrespectful manner by anyone before, but he was way past caring. Did they think he wanted this, whatever it was?

  Gripping the edge of his cushion nervously the big man readied himself to somehow defend his nephew from Leiren's more than justified rage but then saw, to his confusion, a small smile tugging at the corners of her full mouth.

  ¨About time you showed some spirit and stopped acting like a whipped puppy. So, let's talk about this.¨

  Taken aback both of them stared at her in silence, one looking like a younger version of the other. She grunted impatiently.

  ¨Come on boy, don't act the fool with me. I take it this started last winter, after your illness?¨

  ¨I guess...but...¨ his brow wrinkled in concentration, Ren looked thoroughly miserable. ¨It wasn't like today.¨ he mumbled.

  ¨Yes, I gather that.¨ she snapped back caustically. ¨I think we would have noticed if you'd burst into flames before.¨

  The boy shot her a spiteful glare, which the Healer pointedly ignored.

  ¨I mean…¨ he shrugged, ¨it was just nightmares. Mighty unpleasant ones, but no more than dreams.¨

  ¨Or so you thought, if you thought at all. The fact you avoided me like the plague during all these months makes me wonder, though. I suspect you knew something was off.¨

  Benton felt sorry for the kid. The Healer no longer looked like she was going to murder him, but she was evidently still pretty angry.

  ¨Then,¨ he said, trying to help in any small way, ¨sleep is a factor, if this all started with nightmares.¨

  ¨So it would seem, but…¨ Leiren's penetrating gaze never left Ren's face, ¨What happens in those dreams?¨ Ren squirmed and seemed hesitant to speak. ¨I know this is difficult, child.¨ she said, more gently than he'd believed possible in her, ¨But I must know how this comes about, and what we're up against here.¨

  He took a deep breath and looked into the cool grey depth of her eyes. A quiet voice inside him whispered he could trust her. He wanted nothing more than to trust her. He almost didn't mind her calling him child, not if she could help, anyway.

  ¨I'm standing in…black space, I guess that's the best way I can describe it. It's like a ...a void, there's nothing but empty space around me. Within me. Hollow. That's how it always starts.¨

  Benton shivered, not liking the description of this dream one bit so far. It sounded cold. And creepy. And this was just the beginning. No wonder the kid had been acting weird all this time.

  ¨The emptiness...that's how I know it's the dream, and not any other normal dream. Then, I feel it...something just out of reach. I sense if I stretch out I can get it, whatever it is.¨ Ren looked down at his hands, avoiding their eyes. He probably sounded like a complete idiot, he thought miserably, but he knew Leiren would squeeze every last drop out of him.

  He might just as well get it over with.

  ¨Whatever is out there is strong…powerful.¨ In spite of his efforts to keep his tone even and normal, he couldn't keep the awe out of his voice.

  ¨Do you want it?¨ asked the Healer quietly.

  ¨I just know I need it for...something, something important. Oh! I don't know! I know it sounds crazy, but I can't explain it any better,¨ he cried out in frustration. ¨And it doesn't matter anyway, because it always ends up badly.¨

  ¨How badly?¨ A small frown had appeared on Leiren's otherwise impassive face.

  Her senses seemed to be in overdrive today, for Serbell saw her coming from afar, red mane flaming around that perfect face, of course, with its emerald green eyes and petulant mouth. There was no denying the woman was beautiful, no wonder that idiot jumped as soon as she beckoned! Self-consciously she wiped her dirty hands on her faded shorts and then grimaced ruefully, staring guiltily at the stains she ha
d left.

  Damn. It wasn't like she had that many clothes, none of them did, it was one of the reasons she was so keen on starting the textile project back at the settlement. Lorenna might look like an old-time super–model even in rags and carrying an armful of firewood, but not everybody was that lucky, she reflected bitterly.

  Sighing she grabbed the sleeping bags and, adding a couple of blankets for good measure, made her way back to the tent she would be sharing with Yeshra and Lillith. It wasn't raining any more, but the night might turn chilly.

  She did notice that the Beauty With the Firewood seemed to be in a heck of a hurry to get back to where Leiren had set up tent and suddenly wondered whether Ren was all-right.

  This whole situation with Benton was really getting to her, she thought guiltily...she hadn't given the poor kid a second thought all afternoon, which was really not like her at all. Ashamed of herself she reflected that she was going to have to get her act together. Fast.

  Lorenna watched Serbell carrying a huge load which overshadowed the girl's slight frame, and grimaced. They had had a couple of tense encounters at the settlement since she had found out Serbell was coming on the expedition, but if she'd ever envisioned having a cat fight with her she would definitely have second thoughts now. The dratted girl was probably hauling more than her own weight around, seemingly without much effort! Her little armful of wood was pretty ridiculous in comparison. Not that she was competing in that, thank goodness.

  They had already gathered enough kindling for the whole camp, anyway...in fact, judging by the smells coming from the three women's camp fire, Yeshra must be cooking. Enough for everyone, knowing her. Smart, a communal camp-fire. It was a relief, since cooking was definitely not one of her skills. Her herbal cures were better known for their effectiveness than their tastiness. She grimaced. Much as she tried, putting the right combination of ingredients to suit people's palates seemed to be beyond her.