Annihilation - Book Three

Chapter 16

My talk with Tonic isn't all that I had dreamt it would be; I feel estranged from him now. With all the time it took me to find him, one would believe I would have come up with something touching and inspiring to say. It would seem Tonic was more than willing to abandon our cause once more, and again, we find ourselves disagreeing on the terms of his remaining here. 

Tonic is no longer the little baby bird who was afraid of his own shadow, though I'm sure he still possesses much of the fear he had initially. Now, he's looking much more like his sire, and the bulk suits him. His dark hair allows for a more masculine look than the gray; he's even starting on some facial hair, perhaps trying to emulate the warlord though it wasn't like they were allowed to shave in the sick ward.

I feel a pang of loss; I miss my friend.

Every time I'm away from Tonic, he looks bigger than he did before, and today was no exception. It's as if I'm practically watching him grow before my eyes, and I must remind myself that we are nearly the same age. 

We share a long, awkward pause that leaves me feeling lost with this stranger. I can't help but question how we were ever friends if we can't even hold up a conversation. I try to get information from him, but the lack of sharing must be hereditary because I learn little to nothing from my now-human companion.

 I collect my thoughts, don't get ahead of yourself; he's just had a traumatic event that nearly cost him his life. 

Holding out hope that I'll be reassured with tales of bravery or self-evaluation, Tonic reveals that when he left, he wondered for a while, he taught himself to be a better hunter, and then he followed us around. Knowing that he was possibly around the corner, watching us die, watching us struggle, knowing his father was alive,  I'm unsure of how to respond and process. 

The distance he carries with him frustrates me; it feels unearned. I'd like to think I'm envious of his ability to shut out the world and focus on whatever he feels like doing, but the more I ponder it, the more I feel frustrated by its simplicity and selfishness.

 "That's it? What were you doing over here, then?"

"I was following Tomas; he's an awful bounty hunter," Tonic tells me with a yawn, leaving the infirmary to head for breakfast without even a goodbye.

 I've followed him into the dining hall for breakfast since there isn't much left to do but eat my emotions. I pile my bowl with hot potato soup and I'm irritated all over that I have to hunt down my companion as he's wandered off to sit by himself. 

He's secluded himself to a side table, huddled in a corner, only grabbing a piece of bread to nibble on. In the infirmary, he'd looked bright and happy, but now it's as if he'd reverted to the psycho who nearly took my life in Dezna. The flash of the memory almost causes me to lose my appetite, I remind myself that I would be much more apt to defend myself this time around.

It almost seemed to follow Verando's euphoric trend, only to realize those same demons now haunted a mortal mind. 

"Why were you following Tomas?" I attempt once more, for I only have enough mental capacity for one tormented soul in my life, and I resign myself to asking Tomas about this later. It would seem they were hunting each other, and neither was the wiser. 

Tonic stands, wandering off, leaving me to wonder how we would possibly get him back this time and if he was worth the trouble. Throwing my hands up at it, I decide to eat my soup instead, for my body aches, and every last bit of me is sore, bruised, and bitten. I regretted enticing the man when my body was so ill-prepared for such torment. Perhaps my aching ass was why I was so impatient with the now less than half-hearted Alpha mini-me.