physiomania

Chapter 1

The sun was starting to set outside, painting the  horizon with a vibrant red-orange color, almost like staring at a bonfire. I let out a deep breath. Max still wasn't home from going to find something to eat. I almost felt guilty. She wouldn't have to go through all of this if it weren't for me. I stood up straight, walked across the roof of the building, and made my way back down to the alleyway, heading back to the warehouse. Once I looked around after walking in, I noticed Max was already back. I furrowed my brow. How long had she been back? It's not like her to not come to get me for dinner.
    I walked over to her at the table, sat down across from her, and stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jacket. Max gave me a hesitant look through her messy black hair, and she brushed some of it back behind her ear. "Is something wrong, Max...?" I bothered quietly. Max stayed quiet. Something was bothering her. I went to say something more, parting my lips to speak, but she was quick to cut me off. "Just eat your dinner, Wyatt. I'll explain after you eat," she muttered. I took a deep breath in. I wasn't going to argue with her or make her more upset. I'm thinking she found out something troubling, something to do with that weird infection she's contracted. Truthfully, I don't blame her for being so worried about it. It's made some of her veins protrude and even get dark in color. Just recently, the discoloration had spread to her face...
I shook my head. I didn't wanna think about it too much, at least not till after I ate. It was kinda gross anyways. I walked over to the counter, next to the old stove that Max had managed to rewire, making it functional again. She was pretty good at figuring stuff out like that, and I've always admired it. I made myself a small plate, considering I had already eaten a little bit earlier, and I went and sat down at the table again with Max. She was in a completely different world it seemed. Her hair was short, just covering her ears, but it still didn't hide that protruding vein just under her left eye. I stuffed a forkful of food in my mouth and raised my hand to gesture. 
"Y'know," I spoke up. "I think that little thing you got going on is kind of cool." Max looked at me, seeming a bit interested in what I had to say. "You think so?" she spoke up softly. I nodded. "Yeah, you're like a sci-fi character," I laughed softly. "It's scary but it's cool." Max let out a soft laugh, looking down at her lap. "I'm glad you seem to think so," she stated. She thought for a moment, then spoke up again. "Uhm- I ran into this guy today while I was out..." I looked at her, and I narrowed my eyes. "He didn't touch you, did he?" I hissed quickly. Max just laughed. "No, he didn't touch me or anything... Besides, I'm your older sister. I'm supposed to be protective of you" she rolled her eyes at me playfully.
I pursed my lips in a sort of pout. "Just because you're older than me doesn't mean I'm not worried about you," I stated. She shook her head. "I know, I know," she sighed. "But, that's all beside the point. I ran into this guy... he had the same thing as me, but he was completely insane... like he had no cognitive thought for himself, and he was unreasonably violent," she explained. I raised an eyebrow as I took another bite of food. Then it clicked. The guy she was talking about had the same problem as her, and she assumed he had gone completely feral because of the infection. She was scared the same thing would happen to her. She was scared she would hurt me, or that she would have to leave me on my own.
I sat up quickly, letting out a low groan as my knees hit the bottom of the table. "Shit," I hissed quietly. Max furrowed her brow. "Wyatt, language!" she said sternly. I threw my hand up in a frustrated gesture. "You're not gonna end up like him, Max!" I snapped, standing up and putting my hands on the table. "You're not gonna do that to me, you're not gonna hurt me, and I'm damn sure not gonna let you leave me behind-" Max cut me off. "For god's sake, please with the language, Wyatt, you're 13," she scolded. "Just, calm down... take a deep breath" she gave a dismissive gesture. I inhaled sharply. No wonder Max's mind seemed so occupied.
I looked down at my plate, then looked back at Max. I then plopped back down in my seat, laying my chin down on the table and crossing my arms in front of me. I know there's no need to worry. Max always perseveres. She's been doing it for nine years now, keeping not just herself alive, but myself as well. She's been able to keep us well-fed and alive without an issue. Whatever this ailment was, she was sure to come out of it just fine. But that didn't stop me from getting a little bit of anxiety about it all. "It's getting late, Wyatt. Maybe you should get to sleep..." she muttered softly, standing up and messing up my shaggy, dirty blonde hair. I let out a soft grunt and gently swatted her hand away, and she laughed softly. "Goodnight..." she muttered, walking out of the room and heading to her bedroom. I stayed put. My mind was so busy.
I furrowed my brow, standing up and looking up the stairs. Max had already disappeared into her bedroom for the night. The rush of anxiety I had gave me some pretty terrible Ideas, but where would anybody be without impulse decisions? I walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife from the drawer, slipping it into the hem of my pants and covering the handle with my jacket, then I walked towards the door, grabbing one of Max's masks and putting it on over my face, slipping outside and quietly shutting the door.
I walked quietly down the back alley, then came out on the street, looking around and fixing my mask slightly. I then ran across the street once I was assured. If I could just make it to the abandoned pharmacy up the street and back without getting hurt, it'd be one of the greatest feats of my life.  I glanced around quickly as I speed-walked along the street, and I let out a deep breath.
I know Max is going to be super pissed at me for going out alone, but I just want something to help her. Anything to help her. I quietly pushed the door of the pharmacy open once I arrived, and I looked around the dark building, pulling a flashlight from my bag and turning it on, walking slowly down the aisles.
I stopped once I noticed a shelf that seemed to hold antidepressants, other antipsychotics, and mood stabilizers. I kneeled and began to look through them one by one. It's a bold guess to assume Max's ailment is internal, most definitely, but I was confident in my speculation. I've noticed her anxiety getting worse since she contracted the infection. Surely enough, I did find an unopened bottle of over-the-counter antidepressants, as well as alprazolam, and I stuffed them both into my bag, then I stood up, looking to find some sort of blood thinners or muscle relaxers maybe, then I jumped as I heard something hit the floor nearby me, and I turned, looking around frantically, keeping my hand at my side in case I need to pull out my knife.
I walked backward slowly, turning off my flashlight and remaining cautious as I kept moving, letting out a quiet, shaky breath. In my mindless yet cautious wandering, I did run into the shelf of medication I was looking for, but assuming there was something dangerous in the room with me, I didn't quite have time to look through everything like I did with the other bottles. Instead, I simply grabbed what I could of unopened bottles, stuffing them in my bag and looking over my shoulder, starting to head for the exit. I started to shake with fear, I was almost embarrassingly nervous about what could happen to me out here. Everything was quiet in town, As it had been for years now. Ever since the war in 2024, pretty much the whole world became desolate from nuclear fallout. We practically fought ourselves out of existence. Only about maybe two or three million people are left in the world, with our town only having maybe a hundred of them. Everyone else resorted to things like hard drugs and suicide because of the post-war depression, from losing loved ones to watching the world they loved completely fall apart. Others resorted to making as much money as they could off the poor that have been left behind to suffer.
There's a portion of them who are infected, with the same infection Max has. As far as I've seen they're all completely unhinged brutes. Mutilated, indistinguishable from their former selves, covered in some disgusting black goo, ready to kill without even a second thought. Either they were completely unconscious of their actions, or they were just flat-out crazy. It's like that legend of that serial killer that used to walk these streets. They called him 'The Lacerator'. Sometimes I wonder if he was really as bad as they say, but given he's been written into history books, I'd say he was pretty damn terrifying.
I took a deep breath as I turned into a back alley, starting back to the warehouse. Probably the safest way through town to be honest. Even places higher up like roofs were dangerous. It was hard to think Max would ever end up like those people, in the instance the ailment was the same. There was definitely something different about Max that made her more conscious, but it was obvious that it was still bothering her. I sighed and brushed some of my hair out of my face. With how much all this is occupying my thoughts, I would probably need some of the anti-anxiety stuff I grabbed for myself.
A couple of minutes later, I returned to the warehouse and snuck my way back in. It didn't seem like Max had noticed my disappearance. I set my bag on the dining table, took out all of the bottles, and sat down, beginning to look through them. I damn sure wasn't a pharmacist, so I most definitely be careful about what medications to mix. I didn't wanna accidentally kill my sister with this stuff. I read over one of the bottles and took a breath of relief. There were instructions on what not to mix it with, which made things a lot simpler. I sat for something around half an hour trying to find something I was confident would help Max even in the slightest, as well as making sure they were safe to combine. Needless to say, it was a tedious process. Once I was done, I set aside the three bottles I chose to be at least adequate when it comes to helping Max, then shoved the rest in my bag.
I wrote out a note for Max, explaining that they were for her and apologizing for going out on my own, then I stood up, pulled my bag off the table, and headed upstairs for the night, even though it was already about three in the morning. I most definitely saw myself sleeping in.