You wake many hours later, presumably at what you think is daytime. Though from the confines of the clinic, you can’t exactly tell. It’s not as though you can see outside - every window in the clinic has been blocked off and blacked out.
Aches and pains stab at you as you sit up - the barely-carpeted floor hardly makes for a comfortable bed. You would have taken one of the actual medical beds, but there are plenty who need them more than you.
A groan escapes your lips as you massage out your shoulder muscles. As you do so, you take a look around and note that most everyone else has already gotten up and are moving around.
Some are actively packing up medicines and supplies into whatever bags are around. There’s actually a stack of small backpacks with the clinic’s logo on them in the middle of the floor, each one individually wrapped in cellophane bags. It hasn’t really occurred to you until now just how useful trash marketing swag could actually be.
A shame that it’s taken the end of civilization for their utility to become apparent.
You pick up your messenger bag, which you had been using as a kind of pillow, and sling it over your shoulder. Then you amble over to the pile of backpacks and grab one of them, too.
Because there’s already a handful of others picking through the medical supplies in here, you instead head out to the hallway. There, you find Kaja picking through the vending machine. She’s once again using her Telekinesis to take snacks from their trays and cradles, then dropping them into the dispenser below.
“So can I get my chocco this time around?” you say jokingly.
Kaja laughs.
“Anyway, you need help?”
She shakes her head and says, “I’ve got this. But there’s a few bottles of water left in the break room - you oughta grab those if you can. Also, here. Breakfast.”
She hands you a granola bar, which you tear open and consume, relatively quickly.
As you chow down, you head into the break room as suggested. Most of the cabinets have been opened up and cleaned out of much of whatever food or drinks were inside. Only scraps remain.
Inside the fridge is about the same. The only things left in there are mostly-empty condiment jars and a wide assortment of condiment packets. There’s also a few slices of extremely stale white bread in there. They’re hard to the touch and close to inedible.
Who puts bread in the fridge? you think to yourself as you shut its door.
On the counters are a couple of packs of bottled water. Both of them have been ripped open, and only have a handful of water bottles left in them. You snap up what you can and store them in your backpack.
You also spot a handful of self-serving packets of flavored ground coffee in the corner. You’ve never been much of a fan of coffee, but you consider that they might be useful at some point in the future. You throw them into your backpack as well.
By the time you get out of the break room, Kaja has filled up her own clinic-branded backpack with snacks. There seems to still be a lot left over, so you grab some and toss them in yours as well.
Especially the two choc’s. It’s as though they’ve your name written on them.
As you pick through the food, you lean in towards Kaja so you can speak to her with hushed tones. Not that what you say is particularly sensitive or anything, you just would rather be a bit discreet and not broadcast what you say.
Getting snippets of people’s thoughts here and there has made you slightly more paranoid about the things you say and think in return. You never know who’s listening in, after all.
“So we’re sticking with these people?” you ask. “I got the impression that you weren’t really keen on that.”
“Still not,” Kaja replies. “I mean, these people seem really nice, and they seem to be good people. So it’s nothing on them. Just a feeling I’ve got. Like sticking with them somehow is gonna get them, or us, hurt. Is that crazy? Am I just being paranoid?”
What she says strikes you immediately, and instinctively nod in agreement.
“Same,” you admit. “Been feeling a tiny bit paranoid since we got here. Even more now than the beginning, though. It was just an itch when we walked through those doors. Now it feels almost like we’re being watched. But I can’t tell by who.”
“Yeah, kinda. Sorta. Something like that,” Kaja replies, somewhat unsteadily. It’s clear even she’s unsure of why she feels that way, and is plainly second-guessing herself.
“But we’re sticking with them anyway?” you ask.
“Mostly ‘coz I get that same feeling about heading out on our own. Probably better we’re with more people than not. At least that purple blade thing will keep most stuff away.”
As you zip up your backpack and sling it over your shoulders, one of the nurses comes out to the hallway and calls out to the both of you.
“We’re heading out,” he says. “See if anyone else is in the examination rooms back there, then meet us out front. And also, thanks for sticking with us.”
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The nurse then pops back into the clinic floor where he came from, clearly too busy to linger. When Kaja spins around to check the back rooms as you’ve been asked, you hold her back lightly.
“I wanna try something,” you say.
You close your eyes, but instead of opening your Third Eye, you sweep outward with your Telepathy in search of random thoughts and emotions. If anyone is back there, you’ll easily sense whatever’s on the surface of their being, be it whatever’s on their minds or hearts.
No-one can really suppress it, at least as far as you’ve been able to tell. All they can do is muddle themselves so they’re unreadable, like what you and the other two have been trying. But they’re always recognizable and obvious.
People’s thoughts and emotions seem like beacons in a vast emptiness, at least when you peer through with just your Telepathy.
And as far as you can tell, you’re the only two left in this section of the entire clinic. The examination rooms are completely devoid of people, though you sense a handful of mice living between the walls of two of the rooms.
You grab one of the extra snacks from the vending machine’s dispenser, rip them open, then toss the contents on the floor.
Hopefully that’ll keep ‘em fed for a little while, you think to yourself.
You turn your Telepathy back outwards and find a cluster of human minds in the clinic’s reception, and a few more just outside it. Of course, they’re a mix of thoughts and emotions which you can hardly tell apart. It’s like they’re all playing music at the same time loudly, clear for everyone to hear.
Basically, it’s a kind of cacophony hanging in the air, and you have some difficulty making out the individual notes. Still, you can tell it’s a bunch of people, most of whom thinking similar thoughts to each other.
Most of it is anxiety and fear, presumably because of the broken city and dead bodies all around them.
You shut off your Telepathy just as that dull ache clamps down further on your head.
“We’re the only ones left in here,” you say. “Let’s get outta here.”
Kaja slings her backpack over her shoulder as she follows you out. The two of you carefully look around through the now-ransacked clinic for anything else that could be useful, but find nothing else of value. It seems everyone has just about picked the entire place clean.
When you get back out front, you quickly note the light red sky and dark orange sun above you - the only indication that it is, indeed, daytime.
A few clusters of people are outside in the parking lot just in front of the clinic itself - the nurses and orderlies and patients from yesterday. Not only that, but a couple of them are staring at the huge purple blade in awe. Their eyes practically bug out of their heads as Kaja Telekinetically lifts it out of the asphalt and sweeps it around to hover behind her.
“Well, I feel much better knowing you can do that,” says one of the nurses.
She’s joined by a chorus of agreement from a few others. Some are a bit too speechless at the sight of it moving around. But you get a sense that they’re glad to varying degrees as well.
It takes you a moment to realize that something’s a bit off… There’s less people here than yesterday.
“Where’s Dad?” you blurt out.
“He’s gone ahead with a couple others back to his apartment,” says one of the orderlies. “Said he’s got a buncha guns we could use to protect ourselves.”
“We’re going to meet up with them once we’re set,” adds a nurse. She seems to be implying you and Kaja, specifically. Which makes sense, as you’re the last two out of the clinic.
“We’re good to go any time,” Kaja tells her.
The two of you temporarily take the lead towards your Dad’s apartment, with the rest of the group in tow. Kaja up front as always, with you right behind. Most of the patients and nurses are right behind you in small groups, while the two orderlies with their shotguns take up the rear protectively.
But it’s an overall short and uneventful procession - you all make it down a couple of blocks and meet your Dad at the corner.
He’s with a couple other people, and all of them are now armed to the teeth. Slung over their shoulders are a variety of rifles. Your Dad has some kind of AR - you don’t know exactly what kind. Only that it’s black and looks deadly.
The other two with him have hunting-type rifles with scopes on them. They’re also slinging duffel bags, presumably with ammunition and spare magazines in them.
Your Dad has always loved guns, something you could never truly get behind.
He walks up to you with a grin on his face, extremely happy to be reunited with his weapons. Without saying anything, he plops a holstered pistol in your hands, along with a magazine pouch with a couple of loaded spare magazines in it.
“I don’t-” you begin.
But he cuts you off quickly.
“No exceptions,” he says. “From what everyone’s been saying about what’s happened to the city, probably the whole goddamned world, we’re gonna need everything we’ve got to stay alive. And that means getting used to things we don’t wanna get used to. Now strap it on.”
You don’t even get to grumble as you try to put the thigh holster on - you can’t exactly disagree with your Dad. Even if you think these bullets won’t do anything against something like that shadow creature, or those bone insects - they might still be helpful.
Even if all they do is act like deterrents similar to the massive purple blade.
You do your best to tighten the holster’s straps around your thighs, with the top strap looping around your belt for support. It feels snug, but odd. You’re simply not used to having something there, all the time. A part of you can’t help but scratch at the edges in an attempt to find where it’s most comfortable.
Once it feels somewhat in place, you do the same thing with the magazine pouch on your other thigh. It takes you a few good minutes to get them both relatively comfortable.
Still, you can’t help but feel awkward with them on your thighs. It simply feels weird to you, and definitely far from a comfort.
Your Dad also gives the rest of his pistols out - one to Kaja, another to one of the nurses, and the last one to one of the other people in the group.
“Why do you even have so many guns?” you blurt out loud. “When would you even need that many?”
“Seems useful right now, don’tcha think?” he retorts with a grin.
“Sure, but were you expecting the apocalypse to happen? You’ve practically got an arsenal in your apartment! Did you stock up thinking: hey, one day it’s all gonna explode.”
“None of us ever expect anything like this to happen. But it happened anyway. Would you rather not have this stuff in the first place? ‘Sides, it’s my right, right? So what if I indulged in it a bit.”
You don’t exactly know what to say in response. He’s right, in this exact moment. But as you’ve thought before, it has taken a literal apocalypse for something normally unreasonable to be exceptionally reasonable.
A part of you wishes that wasn’t so, but here you are.
“I’m glad we’re carrying more heat,” says an orderly. “Would feel real sketch without ‘em. Not with the streets looking like this.”
“I agree,” says Kaja. “Now, let’s get the hell outta here and towards that stadium, yeah?”