Catharsis [Novel]

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

            My hunger is only a faint tickle deep in the core of my body right now which makes it easy to ignore and forget about.  I want it to stay that way, so I decide to see how long I can go without straining myself or using any of my newly acquired abilities.  It certainly seems that the more I push myself and what I can do, the faster I burn through whatever energy levels I have stored.  Maybe if I can spend the day being as relaxed as possible, then I can stretch what energy I have stored up and put off having to feed again anytime soon.

            At the very least, it will give me an idea of how long I can go before the hunger gets intolerable.  It’s not a perfect plan, but it’s the best one I have for now.

            Adjusting myself against the wall, I scratch Lazzy's fuzzy (and adorably fluffy...for a scruffy mutt) neck and settle in for the day.  The dusty windows have continued to shield my eyes, but the warm sun is relaxing as it travels across my legs: an invisible electric blanket set on low slowly being drug across the lower half of my body.

            Sleep doesn't come to me as I close my eyes, but neither does a need to get up.  And right now that is all I can ask for.

            Rain begins to speckle the windows, and I listen to a storm as it slowly moves past the warehouse. 

            After a few hours of pleasantness, Lazzy shifts his body and curls up into a ball next to me instead of using me as a pillow.  It's only a slight change in our cuddle arrangement, but it's enough to shift my thinking away from where it had been (Happy memories of being a kid and not being a lonely little girl in a large abandoned warehouse.) and towards where it needs to be (I can't just sit here all day regardless of how much of an escape it is.).

            "Water!"

            The thought hits me, and I sit up quickly.  Lazarus will be thirsty soon.  The food settled him and put him to sleep, but the loss of blood (Not going to think about how he lost the blood, just that he did lose the blood.) is going to dehydrate him.  He'll wake up soon, and once he does he'll need liquid.  But I don't have any.  And even if I did, I don’t have a bowl to put it in.

            Time for an adventure, I think and smile to myself.  It may not be a life-changing mission I'm about to set out on, but at least it will keep my mind occupied for a while.  That's a victory I'm willing to accept right now.

            Scooting away from the warmth of my canine companion, I stand up and shake out the small kinks in my body (The kinks seem to be more mental, than physical, though.  My body should be tight and cramped from sitting scrunched against a wall for hours, but as soon as I stand up I feel limber and ready to move.  This is a side effect I could get used to!) and begin my search for both water and a container for it.

            The first floor reveals little that I hadn't uncovered already.  I do manage to locate a large but ratty push broom in a small closet (Most likely a "broom closet".  Makes sense, right?), and I drag it over to my closet so I can make use of it later.

            Gaining access to the second floor of my new abode proves challenging once I've decided that simply leaping up to grab the rusted and dangling rungs of the broken ladder leading to the walkway around the edges might tap into energy reserves I'd rather leave alone for now.  Another twenty minutes of door opening reveals a back stairway that is cluttered with debris (Seriously.  Who throws an entire four foot long metal office desk down a stairway?  The physics of it is quite impressive.  It looks heavy.), but nothing that some creative (but energy-free) climbing can't traverse.

            The upper floors don't give me much, but I do find what I'm ultimately looking for:  cups.  Two, old gas station Big Gulp cups, to be precise.  They're dusty, but their lids have kept them relatively clean on the inside.  Not clean enough for me to want to drink from them, but clean enough to offer to a dog that's been getting its liquid from sewer grates and street puddles.

            With containers in hand, I progress to stage two of my mission:  finding some actual water to put in the cups. 

            Giving up on finding any water inside the warehouse, I move back downstairs so I can try the back yard of the property.

            Once outside, the wondrous smells of the late afternoon (How long did I spend searching that building?  That impressively devoured the last few hours.) surround me, and I inhale deeply.  It's amazing!  So many scents rush across my brain that I can't slow my own processing down fast enough to discern which is which.  I can smell rain and wetness.  Grass.  Dirt.  Mud.  Exhaust fumes from vehicles going by on the road on the other side of the building.  Far off I can even smell people.  Not a lot of people, but some.

            Cocking my head to one side, I focus on my ears in an attempt to see if I can locate in which direction they might be.  Maybe if they're close enough...

            "Ahhh!" I scream and clap my hands over my ears before I can figure out anything more.  "What am I doing?"

            I was starting to tap into my new abilities without even thinking about it.  And I was doing it in attempt to find people.  And I wanted to find those people so that I could..

            "Nope," I tell myself.  "We are so not going to finish that thought."

            Back to the mission at hand.  But finding water out here isn't going to be easy.  Well, finding clean water that is.  The recent rain has left a few soggy mud puddles around, but it isn't something I would want to willingly give Lazzy to drink.  That just seems mean.

            When I had first stepped outside and noticed the aromas, one of them had been fresh water.  I distinctly remember that being one of the first things I smelled.  All I have to do is breathe deeply and follow the scent.  It'd be easy to do. 

            But what if I get a whiff of the people?  And worse yet, what if I notice they are nearby?  Near enough for me to jog to?  Near enough for me to get to?  That's simply not a risk I'm willing to take right now.  Best to just search for the water the old-fashioned way.

            Luckily it turns out to be easier than I had hoped as a large overturned barrel is not far from the back door of the warehouse.  The collected rain in the bottom of it is rather rust- and uck-free, and I fill both cups to the brim with the clear water.

            Ignoring the temptation to inhale deeply as I cross the property, I scurry into the building and away from any tantalizing distractions that might lure me back.  As I approach Lazzy, he lifts his head and blinks adorable brown eyes at me.

            "Hey boy," I say as I approach him, "are you thirsty yet?"

            I set one of the water cups on the ground in front of him and smile as he gustily laps it up.

            "I guess you are," I continue.  "Can't say that I blame you."

            After finishing most of the water in the cup, he licks his lips and lays down again apparently content with his hydration.

            It's not quite dark enough for me to want to go outside and brave the light for a stroll around the property and neighborhood, but I need to find something to occupy my time.  Exhaustion and tiredness haven't really been words in my vocabulary for several days now, so laying down and taking a nap seems pointless.  Tapping into my energy reserves to explore the building is more of a risk than I wish to take, so that retires that option, too.

            Looking around the floor of the warehouse gives me an idea, and I jump on it.

            "This place might not be my house," I say out loud. "But that doesn't mean I can't fake it."