physiomania

Chapter 2

I let out a low grunt as I tossed my bag the rest of the way up the ladder and onto the top of the building. I then finished climbing up, and I stood up straight, picking up my bag and looking around town from the perspective that the roof allowed. I wasn't quite sure where I'd find food today. Most animals here have suffered from radiation, which, needless to say, makes them completely inedible. The same goes for any plants that were grown before the fallout. I've made a little farm for berries back at the warehouse, but the fruits are all out of season. I'm hoping I can find some vegetables and pre-harvested plants to take home and repurpose for farming and eating later on.
    I sighed, letting out a deep breath as I felt the wind blow gently through my hair, stuck deep in thought. I looked down at the bulging veins in my forearm, gently touching them. They didn't hurt or anything, they just looked gross and weird. I looked up from my arm and glanced around, then flinched and spun on my heels as I heard a loud metal clattering behind me. As I stepped back a couple of times, I looked down at the person before me, fallen to their knees and palms, as they had tripped on something but... didn't seem to realize I was there. I grabbed my knife out of my pocket and held it defensively, trying not to make myself known. I stepped back quietly, attempting to make a getaway, and without warning, I dragged my shoe on the concrete of the roof from misplacing my foot, instantly giving me away to this person. I cursed under my breath, and the hand with which I was holding my knife began to shake. I looked over at them, and to my surprise, they seemed just as startled as I was.
    I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Hello-" I sputtered, then immediately pursed my lips. "I'm so sorry," The person muttered awkwardly, rising to their feet. They had the build and voice like that of a man, but I wasn't completely sure. He was dressed pretty discreetly, wearing a mask of some sort. The thing that stood out most to me, by a long shot, was the large Tegu lizard sitting on his shoulder. It seemed conscious kinda, or just trained pretty well, I guess. Can you even train lizards? I had stopped for a moment to consider it, but then quickly refocused. "Uhm," I spoke up, hesitating for a moment as I looked for the right words to say. "Who are you?" was all I could manage. It wasn't the worst thing I could've said. "Oh, my apologies," he mumbled shyly. "I don't feel comfortable sharing my name with you, but I promise you that I have no malicious intent," he explained. I looked him up and down, then paused as I noticed one of his hands. It was the goo- that those other people were covered in. "What's wrong with your hand?" I questioned defensively, holding my knife a bit tighter.
I wasn't sure if it was any cause for alarm, because he seemed perfectly conscious, just like me, and he can handle an animal without wanting to eat it whole, or disembowel it.  "Oh, I see," he spoke up, raising his hand slightly as though to look at it. "I understand your worry, but I assure you it's misplaced. I am infected, obviously, but I have more control over myself than others," he hesitated. "I've... had this problem since I was young," he added. I jerked slightly as I'd processed what he said. "You have?" I breathed. I was surprised. As far as I'd seen, everyone who had been infected didn't make it but maybe ten years, and this guy was clearly a lot older than a damn ten-year-old. He nodded. "I've had this scary-looking hand ever since I was about 6," he shrugged. "It was a terrifying experience back then" He seemed to laugh.

Did he think this was funny? No, more importantly, does this mean I have actually have a chance against this disgusting parasitic molt I'm going through? "How- How old are you?" I asked, beginning to let my guard down. I wanted answers, and I was scared to leave without asking questions. "I'm not too sure," he laughed. "If I had to guess, I'd say maybe in my thirties or forties." I felt my left eye twitch a little. "You- don't know your own age?" I choked. "I never went to school," He shrugged. "I don't know years and months too well. Basically, everything I know is self-taught, other than a couple of books I've found." I narrowed my eyes. He seemed like he was a lot like Wyatt when he was younger.
"Alright, let me help you. Were you alive when we were still in the middle of a nuclear world war? Or when a ravenous serial killer attempted to take over the government?" I bothered. He stayed quiet for a moment. "I wasn't alive when that serial killer was out and about, no, but I was here for a little bit of the war. Sometime before it had ended," he stated. I felt my heart skip a beat. He was alive during the war. "D-Do you know how this infection started??" I asked quickly, and he shook his head. "I don't. I've been infected since I was born, but it didn't make itself known until I first began going to school as a kid. However, before the fallout, the infection did exist, and I do have the minimal studies they've done on it back at my cabin. I'm just as clueless about this parasite as you are," he elaborated. God, he sure does talk a lot. "Why are you so curious about all this anyways?" he asked. I tensed my shoulders. I hadn't even realized I was being a dead giveaway. 
I rolled my eyes and gestured. "I'm- I'm infected..." I admitted. He stayed quiet for a moment. "Am I allowed to see?" he asked quietly. I looked down at the palms of my hands, then pulled my sleeve back and showed him the bulging veins in my arm. He gently placed his infected hand on my arm to see it better, and I shivered at the feeling.
It was warm to the touch, but you could feel the undertone of it throbbing and pulsating, like when you check your pulse against your neck. I couldn't see any of his skin within, as though his hand was irreversibly consumed. It was grossly fascinating.
"You don't have any limbs that have been clotted?" he asked. I don't know what that means but- I would guess he's asking if I have anything like his hand. I shook my head. "That's good. It means you're still in the earlier stages of the infection," he assured. "But, I've already been infected for like, a year now," I protested. He let go of my hand. "Well, then I'd guess you were infected by yourself, rather than someone else. When you're the cause of your disease, it stays dormant for quite a while, and once it comes to life, it takes even longer to manifest. You've got plenty of time," he explained. I thought for a second. What he was telling me seemed very reminiscent of what Wyatt thought about this infection. That it was an internal issue, with mental health possibly. How could that be? Can you really develop such a severe physical ailment just from being mentally ill? Is that even scientifically possible?
I looked up at the man, and I was becoming severely doubtful. Can I actually trust this guy? He could be lying straight through his teeth just to entrap me. I swallowed hard. I should definitely at least try. If he's telling the truth, he could provide a huge help to Wyatt and me. I'll just keep my guard up until I know for sure he has no malicious intent. I took a deep breath and stood up straight, fixing my jacket. "Do you need someone to stay with?" I asked nervously. I couldn't see the man smiling, but I could absolutely hear it in his voice. "I suppose having some company wouldn't be too bad," he laughed.