John O'Brien - Reckoning

“What about the others that were bitten that we brought in? Can you sense them?” Lynn asks.

“I haven’t tried as of yet but I plan to see if it’s the same. It could be that they closed themselves off early on without knowing what they were doing. I remember the one guy saying it was driving them crazy. Of course, they would have had to shut themselves off or they would have been found. I really don’t know,” I answer.

In the dim lighting, Greg, in an adjacent bed, rolls over with a groan and opens one bleary eye. The swelling on Greg’s cheek has receded remarkably and the white bandage across his scalp stands out starkly against his dark hair and skin.

“What’s up?” he asks thickly.

“Robert is staying the night to be monitored. He’s fine. It’s just a precaution,” I say.

Greg’s one eye rolls over to Robert. “Good, then I’ll have company.”

With that, he promptly closes his eye and drifts back to sleep. Another stirring at the door draws my attention. Michelle is standing in the doorway, her hair disheveled from sleep and her eyes filled with worry at seeing Robert on the bed.

I take that as my cue and rise as she hurries to Robert’s bedside. Lynn and I exit to the sound of Robert attempting to reassure Michelle.

In the morning, I rise and hurry to the cubicle where Robert spent the rest of the night. Seeing him lying on the bed, I open up and reach out. He immediately opens one eye, and peers over to me.

“Quit it, Dad. I’m fine,” he says drowsily.

“Okay, okay.” I then mutter upon leaving, ”Damn, a little sensitive.”

I know he’s doing fine if not a little tired from the brief perception I had. He’s catching on about how to block that out as I lost sense of him moments after I delved into him. The days are going to be busy with training—both for the teams and for Robert and Craig, assuming the doc is satisfied with Robert’s status. I know he’ll find Robert in good shape, but I’ll need to keep an eye on him. And he’ll need to be honest with me regarding how he feels if he doesn’t want me digging into him every five minutes.

Out in the parking lot, Lynn has gathered the teams and is going over a training schedule. I sit on a curb and watch as she details their plan for the day. Soon, they are walking across the compound to the vehicle storage hangars, leaving me alone with the chill of the morning. It won’t be long until these cold, clear days give way to the rain and clouds that the Northwest is noted for.

I’m glad for the clear days as that will make our initial training flights easier. For a couple of days, it will be low-levels during the day and hitting the night runners during the evening. We’ll have to get our rest periodically as time allows. Sitting in the shadow of Cabela’s, feeling the chill seep through my fatigues, and the day getting lighter as the sun works its way over the Cascades, I feel the calm, yet determined, feeling from yesterday settle inside.

My peaceful time alone is soon interrupted as others emerge from the building. The quiet parking lot is filled with murmurs of conversation followed shortly thereafter by the sounds of vehicles starting. The semis are left idling to warm up, emitting plumes of exhaust that climb into the still air. We had our day off and now it’s time to get on with things. I can sense the determination in the crews that will soon be off gathering supplies or working on our housing.

Robert, Bri, and Craig soon emerge with others that are coming out of the doors in both large and small groups. On seeing Robert, I open up and do a quick sensing of him. He gives me a look and I shrug, sending him, “It’s going to happen. Deal with it.”

Before we head out for our training mission, I gather the others we found that were bitten and survived. I want to see whether there is the same sensory perception that Robert and I share. After some explanation, I open up but don’t seem to sense any of them. I talk them through how to mentally open, to find that compartment that seems to be part of the mind, yet separate. In the parking lot, we experiment and, at first, I can vaguely sense one of them. With practice on their part, I am finally able to sense them in the fashion that I can Robert.

With Bri and Craig looking on, we spend some time working on opening up and shutting down. The crazy old man is wary but goes along with it until he becomes a believer as well. He was always wont to think it was him going crazy, but he eventually comes around. I show them the difference between us and the night runners; that we can shut that, or any part, down.

I send Robert and the others over to the outer gate and we test it over distance. I can sense their presence, meaning their exact location, but the ability to sense their nature, emotionally and physically, appears to be limited by distance. They are about a mile away, and I can only vaguely pick out their feelings and physical state. I push farther outward to see if this makes a difference, but the vagueness remains. We can, however, communicate clearly.

I have them drive to the edge of the Nisqually Valley several miles distant. The hints that I felt of their physical and emotional nature vanishes altogether but we can still communicate clearly. With the others, it’s not as distinct as with Robert, but it’s clear nonetheless. Perhaps it has something to do with the genetics or the bond we share. Who the hell knows?

With no teams available to provide security, that’s as far as I feel comfortable with them traveling. Perhaps after our training flights, I can ask Lynn to spare a couple and continue testing. Robert and the others return, their eyes filled with wonder and amazement. I have one other test that I’m not particularly looking forward to.

I ask Robert to go see if his mother, Julie, would mind helping us out. She’s the only one I know that may have actually been a night runner and changed back. There is still some debate on that, but I know what I saw and heard. The experiences I’ve had since then only seem to validate it. Robert hesitates and then goes to see. I can pretty much picture that conversation now.

“Um, Mom, Dad wants your help to see if he can see into your mind.”

Yeah, that’s pretty much not going to happen. I feel Robert make his way through the building.

“Robert. Better yet, you show her how to open up and see if you can sense her. I’m pretty sure she isn’t going to be fond of me doing that,” I send.

I can hear his mental chuckle. “I think that’s a better plan.”

The others gathered near me, with the exception of Bri and Craig, chuckle.

Awesome, I’m in a group conversation. Good to know , I think facetiously, shutting them out.

As Robert tries to locate his mom, I experiment to see if I can shut the others out and communicate only with Robert. Within the overall compartment in my mind, I can sense smaller ones that are the others. I work on shutting individual ones out while keeping the one I sense as Robert open.

“Can you hear me?” I send to him.

“Yeah, Dad,” he replies.

This is going to take some getting used to, and I’ll have to be careful. We’ll all have to be. The implications of what we can do are large, but there is no way I want to broadcast my thoughts. No one would want to hear those. If they did, I’d be committed immediately, and more than likely shot.

Robert returns after a long while, to the point that I was about to go and fetch him. There is a lot to do and, with the days growing shorter, we don’t have as much time available to us. He brings the news that he wasn’t able to sense his mother at all. I figure the amount of time was spent with his mom asking him a multitude of questions and Robert hemming and hawing his way through them.