--XIX--

"They just love killing each other."

Caleb looked at me, the steam from the coffee cup he held obscuring Wyatt's face.

"What?" Kaylee's voice barely penetrated the film of disgust in my head; the revulsion at the lunacy of those that find entertainment, in the suffering of others- and think only of themselves. "Who?"

I didn't even look up from the paper.

"I don't need to answer that," I said. "You read my mind all the time." Slowly, one page at a time, I tore the newspaper- each paragraph a fatality of paper just like the words printed on them. The sound of the ripping was almost enough to satisfy me. "Did you get that from one of the dads or from your brother?"

"What's with the attitude?" said Caleb.

"I thought you didn't mind." Kaylee pushed a paper cup of strawberry ice cream toward me. "And your mind is a nice place."

"Ha-ha," I said. "So funny."

"She means it," said Caleb.

"I'm confused." It was about an hour after the SRA and I was really feeling the ligaments in my left forearm and wrist complaining; it felt like my left hand was on fire. It wasn't a new feeling, though. "We have a killer to catch and all you can think of is making fun of me."

"They're not."

We all turned to Wyatt. It was the first thing he said since we got here.

He shrugged. "Your mind is a nice place."

Excuse me?

I was ready to jump away.

"He wouldn't know that!" interjected Kaylee. She wore a self-created necklace, one that was made of one of my favorite things: sunflowers. She twirled her fingers around them, and they almost glowed in the dark. "He won't believe us."

I checked to see if my left hand was bleeding and if there were fractured bone pieces sticking out of the skin.

Nope not right now

"So he really never reads people's minds?" said Wyatt. I glanced over at him. His eyes shifted from Kaylee and back to me. "Sheesh." He locked his black-hole eyes on mine. "Why did they ever consider you for working the interrogatio-"

ORBI

PLOSIONSSSS

Yes, yes. Orbiplosions. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Why they ever considered me for the what?

Nope

Let's not even talk about that.

Or I don't know. I had no idea. I didn't ask for any specific department to work in. I never did. Unless of course you count my vehement refusal to have anything to do with further experiments.

I HATE THAT WORD

"What happened to me isn't a secret to you guys," I interrupted. "Let's move on. And it's not like I'm the only one with seriously messed up memories."

"It's such a miserable WASTE OF TELEPATHY!" Wyatt said. "You never use it!"

"EFF YOU POLITELY GO JUMP ON A JELLYFISH," I said exclusively to Wyatt via telepathy.

He smiled at me. I didn't know why.

Also, miserable my butt, coming from the most miserable person alive second only to James Tobler.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

And me.

And Kaylee.

The three of us shared that top spot.

I dropped my gaze to the torn pieces of paper on the tablecloth. Stories of planes dropping bombs, a tank crushing cars with families of innocent people in them, images of dead bodies. Shootings. Stories of more people killed, raped, manipulated.

All completely pointless.

"Memories aren't the only thing you are, Chris." Caleb put the coffee cup down, beside the ice cream. Deliberately on top of the torn sheets, so I couldn't see all the words anymore.

I looked up at him.

"I was reading that," I said.

Because I bothered to read things that were torn apart.

"You're a lot more than that," he said. "Anyone can see that."

I stared at an ornate streetlight across the street, one that I used to draw cartoon cows on, using chalk that I stole from my primary abuser's unlocked closet. I learned how to draw cartoon cows from the soggy cereal boxes I'd found, on the floor of the same abandoned building where I first started teaching myself gymnastics. I used the same chalk to maintain friction on my palms and fingers, too. And I remembered how, sometimes, it felt almost like that chalk was magical; almost like the fine white powder on my hands helped me jump higher; rebound harder; calculate my distance faster.

At least, I think it was chalk...

I turned my attention back to Caleb.

Anyone can see?

His eyes and his voice: the only two things on a person that were powerful enough to somehow captivate me.

Anyone can see what?

Anyone could see that a child was murdered.

Anyone could see that I didn't care about myself.

Maybe that was a problem.

I watched as a white hedgehog the size of a teacup scampered toward me from the sidewalk. It placed a peanut on my shoe.

Yay, peanut, happy

I wondered where it got one. The nearest Baker Joe's was a half-mile away, to my knowledge.

ORBI

PLOSIONSSSS

I picked up the peanut. And also the hedgehog.

I named it Peanut.

"I'm sorry," I said to nobody in particular. "I didn't mean to be rude."

I put the hedgehog down.

Caleb laughed. It was the familiar sound I didn't know I craved, one that always took me back to the present. Suddenly, I wasn't surrounded by monsters. Kaylee was here and she was alive and she was with me.

So was Wyatt, but eff that politely.

And... Caleb was here.

Somehow, even for a moment, I could believe there were a few good people again.

I smiled. "What's so funny?"

No one had to answer me: I was stupid, and it was funny that I was stupid. That was the only possibility. I took the ice cream cup.

"We'll need someone fast on the team," I said. "This might be as dangerous as last time."

"Faster than you?" Connor's voice. CONNOR'S VOICE. I didn't bother to look around.

"Meadows," I said.

"Midnight," he replied.

"What are you doing here?" said Caleb.

"Y'all are planning a thing and I want in," said Connor. He sat down next to me.

Where did he even come from?

"It's Sunday," I said. "Go..."

I fumbled.

Go somewhere. Anywhere.

ORBIPLOSIONS

"Go be at home," I said. "You know. With the wife."

Assuming she was there.

"As I'm sure you've gathered," said Connor, "We don't exactly have a functional relationship."

Why was that not a suprise?

"I don't read minds," I said.

"Well, he doesn't have kids so you have nothing to feel too awful about, Chris!" said Kaylee. As with ninety-percent of the time she knew what I was thinking, of course; it saved us time. "He could be a good teammate here."

"Can we get Sam to come with us?" I said.

"Chaquille's sister?"

"Get her to come with us, Kayles."

"I..." she said. "I'll try."

"Thanks," I said. I got up.

Caleb laid a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll meet you guys outside the Lowdown. Don't worry about me."

"And where are you going?" said Caleb.

I looked at everyone.

"You already know," I whispered.

"We still wanna hear it," said Connor. His blue-and-auburn hair moved with the wind, pointing southwest. Almost the same exact direction in which I was about to start flying. "You know. Talk."

I shook my head, gave them a small smile, and turned away.

I had to go bury the dogs.