Inside My Head (Silent Moment Series: Book 6)

Chapter 6

 Outside, the children's book lay open in my hands, its pages fluttering slightly in the breeze. I stood there, a mix of frustration and concern etching my features as I tried to piece together the puzzle laid out in its seemingly innocent pages. The fact that our only clue to the bizarre and dangerous behavior of our friends was rooted in a children's storybook was deeply unsettling. I scanned the cartoonish illustrations, then raised my eyes to the actual sun overhead, searching for any correlation, any hint that might explain the chaos that had erupted among us. But the gulf between the simplistic drawings and the reality of our situation was vast, leaving me with more questions than answers. With a heavy sigh, I closed the book, the sense of helplessness growing within me. Staring at the illustrations and comparing them to our surroundings wasn't going to unveil the mystery behind the strange events. We needed more concrete information, something tangible to grasp in this confusing and alarming situation.

Resigned, I made my way back to where the others were. The scene was one of controlled chaos – some were attempting to restrain Emori, whose outburst had taken us all by surprise, while others attended to Murphy, patching up the wounds inflicted during her inexplicable attack. As I rejoined the group, the weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders. We were in uncharted territory, dealing with an unknown threat that had already shown its potential for harm. Our situation on this alien planet had just become more complicated, and it was clear that we needed to act fast to understand and counter whatever was affecting us. The urgency of the situation was palpable. We had to figure out what was happening, and quickly. The safety of our group and the success of our mission depended on it. As I approached, ready to offer any assistance I could, I knew that the answers we sought were crucial, not just for our immediate survival, but for any hope of a future on this planet.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension and unease. Jackson continued his work on Murphy, his hands moving deftly as he applied bandages to the smaller cuts. The casual remark he made belied the seriousness of the situation. "I am getting used to patching you up, Murphy."

Bellamy, meanwhile, was securing the cuff around Emori's limp wrist. His mumbled words, "I guess now we know what the restraints were for," carried a grim acknowledgment of the situation we found ourselves in.

Echo, her face etched with concern, asked about Emori's condition. "How long will she be out?"

Jackson, maintaining his professional demeanor despite the chaos, replied, "The sedative in the tranq-sticks should last up to three hours."

Miller, looking beyond our immediate predicament, raised a crucial point about the mothership. "They're gonna think it's us. How do we warn them?"

Bellamy's response was heavy with resignation. "We don't. Radios don't work down here. For now, we worry about ourselves." He then directed his attention to Murphy, "Are you okay?"

"His wounds are superficial," Jackson interjected before Murphy could respond. "You're lucky."

Murphy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm lucky? Sorry, is that your professional diagnosis? Because if so, you suck at being a doctor."

Echo's sharp reprimand, "Murphy," was met with a sneer. "No. What? I'm dying to know what he thinks turned my girlfriend into the monster that just attacked me."

Holding the children's book, I sighed, still trying to make sense of it all. "It's all right here," I said, hoping to provide some answers. "'For two days heaven is hell. And friends become foes.' Whatever is in the air, it affects people, too."

Miller's question brought us back to the immediate concern. "Why are the rest of us okay?"

"I don't know," I admitted, my gaze returning to the book. "But it says it comes from the plants."