Ark of the Light

EIGHT: DAYS AFTER MIDNIGHT

A single white pill slipped out of the bottle into the palm of Christopher's hand. He winced as he lifted the last of the pain killers to his mouth. In a single motion, he downed the capsule and took a sip of water. It did little to dull the pain, both in the side of his and inside his head. Zoey had managed to stitch up his cheek, she had been taking classes from the nearby community college for their nursing program, but anytime he moved, it felt like his face was being torn apart all over again. Though, he was happy to have finally taken off the thick white bandages. From the looks of it, he was going to have a nasty scar, three jagged lines. The top line going over the bridge of his nose down to his lower jaw, while the bottom line just barely brushed his lips before following down his parallel to the other two. Lexis told him it would look mysterious. Somehow, that was more of a comfort than any pill had been.

The medicine wasn't working fast enough for Christopher. He scanned the kitchen, gaze stopping on the microwave clock. 6:04 p.m. The sun continued to glare through the window, lighting the dim kitchen. He turned away, letting his eyes fall shut. Exhaustion rolled through his shoulders, he let his walls slip as the others thoughts filtered in and out. Even with the walls of the church separating him from them, he could hear everything. They were playing soccer, girls against boys with Shadow refereeing. Christopher only got out of it by playing the injury card.

Christopher rubbed his temples as he fought off each new mental attack. He had grown used to the silence while with Maroth. Everything was so loud since his return. Constantly being around the others didn't help either. Emilia rarely let him out of her sight, worried about another betrayal. He couldn't blame her. If circumstances were reversed, he would do the same. Still, the pounding thoughts of seven others hurt.

He was so distracted by the pounding in his temples that he missed the front door squeaking open. Zoey glided into kitchen, wiping sweat from her brow. Her hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail. Grinning, she waved at him as she reached for her water bottle. He had missed that smile, the way the corners of her eyes crinkled.

"How's your face?"

"Feeling better already," he lied smoothly. Zoey eyed the empty container in his hand. Sensing where her thoughts were shifting, he moved the bottle out of her line of sight. "How is the match?"

"Still going," Zoey chuckled, "Although, I'm not sure we're still playing soccer. I think they are having a wrestling tournament. I don't know. I left when Axel started chanting for Nicholas to take off his shirt."

Christopher smiled, if he reached out, he was sure he could get a better look at the boy's motivations, but decided against it. There was no need to pry. Silence drifted in as his gaze turned to the window. Zoey's thoughts brushed gently against his own, quiet and sweet. He could almost ignore their existence entirely.

A scratching sound at the living room doors cut through the quiet. Christopher stood straighter, turning to the noise. Zoey perked up, walking to the doors. Christopher followed at her heels. The scratching stopped. Christopher opened his mouth, question forming, but was cut off by a small meow.

"A cat?" Zoey spoke for him. Christopher shrugged.

"Yeah, I suppose we should open the door," Christopher answered her silent question. Zoey tilted her head, confused. Realizing his mistake, Christopher tried to hide the redness creeping onto his cheeks. "Sorry."

Zoey smiled. "Let's see what's behind door number one?"

She cracked open the door. At the door step sat a small kitten. Its black fur was matted and filled with cockleburs. The animal looked skinny, even for its small size. It stared up at them with large yellow eyes.