Dead Waters - Anton Strout [100]
I never wanted to be stuck in someone’s death. I had no idea what effect it might have on my brain or if it would be like needing to wake up while falling in a dream. I pulled myself out of my vision and checked my vitals. My heartbeat was steady, but not thumping in my chest, which was a good sign. The hypoglycemia from using my powers kicked in, but that was to be expected. I still felt a little bit of emotional strain of the victim in my head that I couldn’t shake, but I was thankful it didn’t belong to any of the other people who had been haunting my visions. When Jane’s hand came down on my shoulder out of nowhere, I nearly screamed.
“Got a sec?” she asked. “I couldn’t sleep.”
I closed my eyes and tried to shake the psychometrygenerated emotions off of me, but managed only to make myself dizzy on top of slightly disoriented. “Actually, can it wait?” I asked, trying to control the fear and anxiety in my voice. “I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Oh,” Jane said. I looked up from the broken piece in my lap. Jane’s face was a mix of disappointment and sadness.
I slid the piece of the sign off my lap and got up off the floor. “It can wait,” I said, pushing down the remaining raw emotions. I grabbed Jane by the hand and walked with her over to my sofa. “What’s wrong?”
“When you started with the Department, did they put you through Undead 103?”
“103,” I repeated as I tried to recall it. “Oh yeah. Shamble On?”
Jane nodded. “That’s the one,” she said. “A lot of zombiefighting techniques and the philosophical aspects of confronting them. How did it make you feel when you took it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I was so overwhelmed that it kind of blurred into everything else I was learning at the time. Wesker may have just thrown the pamphlet at me and left it at that. Why?”
Jane sighed. “We were going over what to do in the event that one is bitten by the living dead. Wesker suggested that there was only one thing to do in such a case, only one inevitable conclusion. Kill them.”
“Leave it to Wesker to take it as dark as he can right out of the gate,” I said.
“But he’s right, isn’t he?”
“I try not to think about it,” I said. “I take a more optimistic approach to our jobs than that.”
“How so?”
“I do my best not to get bitten in the first place,” I said.
“Seems to be working so far,” Jane admitted with a small smile. “Still, don’t you worry about dying?”
“I didn’t use to,” I said, “but lately? Yeah. Mostly because of the Inspectre. He’s looking and acting old, more so since Mason Redfield came back all rejuvenated.” Jane nodded, but didn’t say anything. “Have I been acting more morose than usual because of it? If so, I’m sorry.”
“No,” she said, quick to correct me. “It’s not that.”
“What, then?”
She squeezed my hands, meeting my eyes with dead seriousness. “It’s just that . . . with this mark on my back, I can feel myself changing. You saw how useless I became on that boat the other night. I can feel it trying to gain control over me. I don’t want it to come to that.”
I didn’t like where this was going. “What are you suggesting?”
“You saw how they protected me,” she said. “Those water zombies. They’re waiting for me to change. I’m slowly falling under her spell.”
“So, we’ll fight it,” I said, and then added, “Together.”
“For how long?” Jane asked. Tears began running down her cheeks. “Wesker’s not having any luck breaking that woman’s hold on me. The magic is too old, too strong. He’s been able to slow it with a few counterspells, but we’re fighting inevitability here.”
“I won’t let that happen,” I said. “I promise that. We’ll find a way.”
“Promise me something else,” she said. “Please.”
“Name it.”
“If I become like her. . . or worse, I want you to kill me.”
The air went out of my lungs and my heart sped up. “Don’t ask me for that,” I said. “I can’t promise that.”
Jane looked angry. “Why not?” she asked. “Don’t you love