Mark Clodi - Ascension

"See that is a problem right there. You have negative feelings associated with it and that will make things harder. It's up to you how we proceed, what's your timeline?"

"The faster the better. I don't know when the attack is going to happen. The horde heading east was probably three or so days from making it to the border."

"Okay then, how about we try for the velvet gloves first and work our way up to the crowbar?"

Red nodded and they started in with the mind reading again. Jimbo warned Red when he was going to try and dig deeper, to allow him to open up his mind. The first attempt was not successfully.

"Closed up like a clam. Let's try again." Jimbo tried unsuccessfully for over an hour, but which time Veronica and Bobby were back in the house with eggs and fresh milk. Red watched in amusement as Veronica brought out a butter churn and poured the fresh milk into it, then had Bobby take over the up and down motion on the handle.

"Why make butter?"

"It keeps longer than milk." Veronica answered. "Plus it is good practice."

"I was expecting more milk."

"We dump most of it in the pig trough, to spread their feed out, plus Reilly got a good dose, she loved it. The rest we pour into the field, we can't keep it."

"How much butter have you made?"

"A lot, we put it in buckets and store it in the basement. The books say it should keep for a long time that way, but I am going to start rotating out after five buckets. We need to figure out how to make cheese, that keeps even longer."

All at once Red felt a stabbing pain in his head, he clutched it in both hands and put his elbows on the table in front of Jimbo, who was staring at him intently. A light sheen of sweat dampened Jimbo's face, a bloody mist that formed rivulets of red as he continued his assault on Red's mind. Finally, disgusted, he turned away.

"So much for the crowbar. We'll have to try something else."

"You coulda warned me!" Red said, lifting his face up.

"No point, when I warn you, you clam up. Your mind was distracted while talking with V, so I seized the opportunity she provided. Fuck, you'll probably be on guard from here on out. Let's take a break, go play with the dog or tour the farm while I think about this."

Red nodded, headed to the back door, then turned for a moment, "Thanks Jimbo, for trying."

Jimbo waved him off, "Go!"

Outside Jimbo found Reilly lapping up fresh milk from a large bowl that was still half full. "Dog you drink that much milk and you are going to be sick." He trudged down the stairs and picked the bowl up, looking around he found a spot on the porch railing to sit it out of the dog's reach and then said, "C'mon, show me around and walk some of that off."

The door behind him banged shut and Bobby came out, he didn't look happy.

"What?"

"I gotta show you around, Jimbo said to give you a penny tour, I don't know what that means."

"It means show me everything. But I won't tell if you skip a few things. Where's your favorite place here? Let's start there."

The boy looked even more forlorn, "My room. Upstairs, but the house is the last place we get to go."

"Oh, what about the tree house in back?"

"That? It's boring."

"Boring?"

"Yeah, c'mon, I'll show you."

Showing Red around took Bobby much longer than half an hour, the boy might say he didn't like a lot of the farm, but he certainly displayed enthusiasm for the hayloft, the pig sty, the stream a quarter mile away and the small air powered pellet gun that he snagged from the tree house.

While they were romping through the stream, which was a mix of pebbles and sandy mud, Bobby stopped and looked at Red, then said, "Get inside me."

"What?"

"You can do that to Zombies who are weaker than you. Jimbo says you can't read him because he has his own trust issues, but you're a lot stronger than me and maybe you can get into my mind."

"Oh. Right here?" they were standing in the middle of the stream, playing some sort of soldier game that seemed to involve Red falling down into the mud and water after Bobby shot him with the pellet gun.

"Sure, it won't hurt. Jimbo does it to me all the time." Bobby stared at Red, "Well, go on. Try. What am I thinking?"

Red looked at the boy and then fell over onto the bank of the stream clutching his chest, "Ya shot me, Army Ranger!"

Bobby laughed, "Exactly! What am I thinking now?"

"That I need a pellet gun too, so we can really play this."

"See? Jimbo asks if you can see him in my head too. He's there now."

Red concentrated, but shook his head, "No, not really."

"Well watch, you stay in there. He is going to leave and come back and leave and come back a few times."

Watching Red did start to notice as the other man invaded and left Bobby's mind, it was a subtle thing and he was not always able to tell when the other man was doing it, but he had a break through eventually; he was able to read the thoughts Jimbo put into the boy's head, before Bobby spoke them out loud.

"See? This is what you need to do to me." Jimbo said, "We were so keyed up on trying that it didn't occur to me you should be practicing with Bobby or Veronica instead of me."

"This is strange, I see the kid, he's standing here wearing more mud than clothing and staring at me, but I am reading your thoughts in his head."

"I can hear them too." Bobby projected to Red.

"Sorry, so now what?"

Jimbo spoke once again, a distinct, voice in the boy's head, "Well you into philosophy at all?"

"Like yoga?"

The man's laughter came through in Red's mind, "I was thinking more like meditation or Zen or bushido or something."

"No."

"But you know what a philosophy is?"

"Yeah, sure, like hippies or…or that Zen stuff you were talking about."

"You don't know what a philosophy is?"

"Maybe not. What are you getting at?" Red asked.

"Well I am talking about the bigger philosophies here, like money or optimism."

"Money is a philosophy?"

"It only has value because we give it value. How much value does a hundred dollar bill have to you now? Or a stack of hundreds? Not much anymore, because that philosophy has lost value in your head. This is important and maybe I am not saying it right, but what we are doing is giving this mind reading a name and a value. Sit up."

Red pulled his legs out of the stream and sat up on the grassy bank while Bobby stood looking at him.

"Okay, now close your eyes. Focus on my voice, think about a philosophy we've always lived with, but don't subscribe to anymore."

"Money?"

"As good as anything. Why did it lose value?"

"Because…well it just did, who cares about some paper when zombies are running around eating your family?"

"So protecting your family is more important than money?"

"It always has been."

"Did you stay home from work to protect them all day long?"

"No." Red scoffed, "That'd be stupid."

"But before this all happened you knew someone could come in and rob your family or friends, it's a dangerous world, why did you go to work?"

"A man's gotta make a living."

"And now?"

"Making a living has a different meaning."

"Sure does. So the value of more than one philosophy has changed for you. Except you're dead, Red."

"So?"

"What does 'make a living' mean to you now?"

"Well, not a lot. I'm not hungry anymore, I don't want to kill anyone else. But I'm not tired either, I haven't slept in…a couple of months at least. All this free time leaves me wondering how I am going to fill it."

"True, it's not like you are going to raise any kids or anything now, is it?"

"No." Red said.

"Nor is there a need to discover a cure for cancer or build houses or learn how to fight fires."

"True."

"What about writing a book? You got a story in you?"