Cognitive Deviance

42. Overwhelmed

June 2, 2045 - 5:30 PM

It had been six days, and still no contact from Carl or Psychwatch.

The walls of the Skinner High School gymnasium felt like they were approaching Margo closer and closer than the last time she'd seen them. Seeing it reduced to a triage only hours after the Red Riot last week induced that effect on her. She was only glad to see that the amount of anguish had gone down significantly. Sorrow still hung over the world around her like pollution, but she at least knew that progress was being made. At least people's wounds were being tended.

Over the past few days, she and Holden as well as Nikki—though she didn't show up as often as they did—received the opportunities to take part in aiding the injured citizens in a variety of recovery methods. Margo and her mother aided several disoriented people through physical therapy, guiding them through stretches and small walks back and forth until they gained the confidence to stroll down city blocks once again. Holden and Nikki witnessed the magic of nanotechnology on seemingly irreparable wounds, reducing rugged gashes and lacerations to nothing more than faint scars. However, Nikki had to constantly look away during the process.

At one point, Margo paused what she did to watch the healing commence, and she raised a brow when she realized the same process wasn't done for her. Stitches pinched the skin of her thighs, arm, and shoulder like a quilt. She knew the scars would be infinitely more conspicuous once she'd get the stitches out the following day, a sight she wasn't looking forward to seeing.

"Your treatment was like everyone else's that day, Margo," Holden explained. "Impromptu. Nanosurgery takes longer and is more expensive, so they could only start doing it once they learned to keep better track of the patients. However, I heard even Royce and Holloway got nanosurgery since they were one of the first to be sent to the hospital. It helps that Psychwatch paid for their treatment."

"Speaking of which," Margo replied, her and her young colleague walking away, "what the hell happened to them? Why isn't Mason badgering them like how she's doing Carl?"

"She already did. And it fucked them up badly."

Margo took a doubletake, jerking her head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Mason paid for a cybernetic spinal implant that would give Holloway the ability to walk again, but she also messed around with it in order to get him to talk. Used it to screw with his central nervous system like a truth serum. But she got nothing. All he did was await the arrival of Assault Fatemakers at the rally, and once he got his hands on them, he stormed off like a soldier into battle. And apparently, he's still coming back to work tomorrow just like everyone else."

"Jesus," Margo winced. "What about Royce?"

Holden gasped. "He got it worse than Holloway. Apparently, the rally and the wounds he received completely broke him. He hasn't spoken a word since then, he hardly sleeps, and the Scans show him enduring intense hallucinations and trauma. If it gets any worse, his acute stress disorder could eventually transform into full-blown PTSD. So that rendered any information we could get from him unreliable."

A shiver went down Margo's spine at the thought of what Royce was going through. Not being able to sleep or scream. And knowing the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, the rare moments he would get sleep were undoubtedly riddled with horrible nightmares. For the first time in a long time, Margo felt some sympathy for her colleague, as cold and blunt as he might've been.

Although, she couldn't decide to what extent she felt bad. Royce was lucky the only other person he was being compared to was Jack, a genuine sociopath. Or at least he appeared to be.