US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

10 - The Other Number

There have been days where I've wanted to die. Days where I've wanted to bawl my eyes out. Be so angry I could murder whoever was closest to me. Today, I'm terrified.

Not in the typical way you'd expect. I don't think a scary monster man is going to come to our camp and eat us all for lunch. I don't feel a creepy sense of fright tingling in my spine. I'm not waiting for someone to jump out and scare me. No. I'm terrified for a reason that should almost be recategorized. Placed under a different emotion. Perhaps it falls under worry. Or anxiety.

Yet fear seems to best fit.

I'm terrified of one of these people, no matter which one, getting hurt or worse. If they trip and bust their knee up, I'll feel it. If they feel sick due to lack of nutrients, I'll feel it. If they are fatigued, unable to press on any further, I'll feel it. If they wind up at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong, infected person, I'll really feel it.

The word I hate feeling: guilt.

As cocky or as conceited as it sounds, these people are here because of me. I know they aren't necessarily here to protect me or bow down at my feet, but in one way or another, they are here because I exist. And if something goes wrong from here on out, it'll weigh on my shoulders. That's just the person I am.

Maybe I feel too much. But I can't help it. It's hardwired within me. It's in my DNA to care too much.

Dawn has just broken, and hardly any regular person has woken up. Stella has been packing bags all morning and double checking supplies. Zeriah has been doing a lot of what appears to be soul searching around the landing site. He's been in his own world for a while. All night, he went back and forth between the space shuttle and Stella and circled the outer edge of the area. He's even approached Brink a couple times, though he's left me out. But that's nothing new. The Five leaving me out should basically feel second nature to me at this point.

My night consisted of nothing exciting. I stared at the smoldering fire as I sat on the same log seat as earlier, pondering. The time to move on, to finally travel has come. And yet, now that's it's happening I don't want to leave. The risk of the journey is starting to gnaw at my brain.

Over the course of the night, I'm sure the others telepathically heard my thoughts and are most likely annoyed at my anxiety buildup. Apologizing would've merely spotlighted it even more, so I kept to myself while the others did whatever they did during these long, sleepless nights.

Might I add that I'm not a fan of not sleeping?

One good thing about sleep is that it passes time otherwise spent...gazing at a collection of coals from a dying fire pit. Without my red, nutritious liquid blend, I did have a sense of being more tired than usual, but sleep never pulls me in deep enough for even a quick nap. Part of me feels that in the next few days I'll be out like a light every night. Either that, or my hypotheses are completely wrong.

I still don't know myself as a superhuman very well. All I know is that I can heal quick, talk to people telepathically, throw stuff around, and have sharper senses. Without my suit, that's pretty much it. I've learned adjusting to the temperature is no longer a part of my abilities.

Uneasy Zeriah fidgets as he spins around from the edge of the clearing and gaits over to Stella. His fingers work out an invisible math problem in the air as he meets her side. Stella's having a silent chat with Brink, who's focus is surprisingly deadlocked on Stella.

Something serious must be going on, I think.

I try my hardest to pry into their heads the way they all tried to teach me at the headquarters on Mars. I fail, of course. Probably because they are too good at keeping their thoughts guarded--something I never fully mastered. Regardless, I try.