Chapter 35
The Illness of Mankind
"Don't patronise me, Rui!!" a man bellowed and howled, his voice booming against the walls of the conference room. All sixteen people in the room carried tired expressions, yet beneath them a zeal of something more. "The bastard took my son. My son! Why? Because of your snot-filled bastards!"
"Blaming children, Max? Really?" another man scoffed. "Shout all you want, it's not going to be your fault any less."
"Maybe instead of shouting at you, I should shoot you."
"Go ahead. See what happens."
"Alright, alright, everyone, please, calm down," While Lieutenant Sarah McLock tried to diffuse the situation, Michael remained seated on the governing chair, his mind and body tired. He'd reviewed a few snippets of the footage they had of the supposed kidnapping, and though there were only glimpses of the man responsible, it was him, Michael was certain. Furthermore, the kids' descriptions also fit. The question, thus, was simple: Why did the man take Elijah of all people? If it was for blackmail purposes, it had been over a week with no contact. It was looking less and less like a kidnapping and more… a rescue.
While the kids' official stories matched, one of them was Michael's nephew and, in private, he shared that the man asked Elijah if the boy wanted to come–and the boy agreed. It was kept silent and a secret, but Michael considered every move only after taking that information into account. Furthermore, he had another suspicion: that the man was an Awakened and had been one the first time he came to the city to rob a mart. It was a dangerous thought and thus he kept it to himself, but it was plaguing him.
There were a lot of things in the world that did not make sense at the moment, and he felt himself too old to unravel them. And yet, all the same, he was forced to participate–they'd gotten the news about the process of 'Awakening' about two days before it went public, directly from D.C., and he was told to select a few trusted people and test to see which Classes they would get. It was a marvel beyond marvels, an intervention of the divine in a time of need. But few viewed it as such–they greedily yearned after it, wanting more and more.
"Quiet," Michael's voice was soft but as soon as he spoke, the entire conference hall went quiet. All else notwithstanding, his name and rank still held some value to the people present. For how long that would stay the case, though, he did not know. "Max, I sympathise. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you. I'll assign another ten men to the group looking for your son. As more and more soldiers undergo the Awakening, we will also look for people with Classes that specialise in tracking. However, you are a military man–threatening another soldier is enough for me to strip you of your honours and dishonourably discharge you. Don't tempt me with that," he added with an extra weight to his tone.
"Terrance," Michael turned to another man at the table. "You should be more understanding of his circumstances. Everyone here, including Max, knows that the boys weren't actually at fault–but when we have a phantom we cannot identify, a mind looks for anything tangible. Don't egg an angry father on. You are better than that."
"..."
"As we move forward, things will start to change at an accelerated rate," Michael said somberly, leaning forward at the massive desk and staring down everyone, one by one, as he spoke. "We cannot quibble like a pack of hyenas–all militaries of the world, not to mention mercenary organisations, terrorist groups, and a myriad of cultish factions, have access to the Classes now. We have absolutely no means of knowing exactly what will crawl out of this. We have seen first-hand how massive of a difference two Classes can make, and if one of our enemies lucks into a truly strong one, us quibbling like children will only aid them in their goal of our destruction.
"I have gotten a new assignment from DC, as have most city-sized outposts: a formation of a new research group that will try to understand what Awakening is and what effects it has on our bodies. I hereby nominate Lieutenant Sarah McLock to head the HUMAN unit–Human Understanding of Mutating Awakened and their Negation, with Sergent Tyson Williams as her secondary. You may forward your nominations to me through my personal email and I will take them all into consideration before making the final choice.
"Additionally, we will have to increase the patrol units from two to at least four. There will, undoubtedly, be a surge in crime now that the citizens have started Awakening, and we need to act fast and with force–apprehend the culprits by any means necessary as to dissuade as many future ones from ever trying. We cannot allow the city to fall into disarray under our watch. Until further notice, none of you are to leave the military compound without a convoy of guards as every one of you has been reclassified as an HVT. Do not ignore this warning. If you are caught breaking it, you will be court-martialed after being stripped of your ranks. I have said my piece. You may proceed with the rest of today's talking points." The silence was heavy but temporary–soon, infectious shouting returned, and Michael could only sigh at the sight of it all. He truly did not think they understood the weight of the changes… and he worried, worried that the entire military and even the government was full of people like them, too caught up in the politics of power to keep notice of the evolving world.
**
Ethan, Ronald, and Tara returned to the lodge just before dawn. The kids' clothes were beyond ruined, their bodies covered from head to toe in dried blood. They were silent, heads hung low, bodies seeming normal–but broken in spirit.
They went inside without a word, with Tara going to the bathroom to take a shower first and Ronald opening up a beer and downing it whole in one go. Ethan, in the meantime, started preparing breakfast just as the doors to the bedroom cracked open. Elijah walked out on his toes, careful as to not make a sound, and seemed surprised to see Ethan and beyond horrified when he saw Ronald's state.
"A-are you… are you okay? Oh my God!" Elijah exclaimed softly while Ronald merely shrugged and glanced at Ethan.
"I'm fine," Ronald replied and went to the couch, sitting down.
"He… he–"
"Don't worry about him," Ethan said, cracking an egg. "If you're that sympathetic, why don't you join us later today?"
"... uh."
"Not to beat you black and blue," Ethan cracked a faint smile. "But to get you adjusted to your Class. You can aid them as they try to skin me alive in their rage."
"W-what… what about Layla?" Elijah asked.
"She'll be asleep, here," Ethan said. "And Tian will be with her. Don't worry about Layla. So, what say you? You think you can handle sounds of cracking bones and sights that would make grown soldiers cry like little babies?"
"... if–if it means I can help them, yes." Elijah replied firmly. Ethan merely chuckled and went back to making breakfast. Soon after, Tara came out of the shower and Ronald went into it. Elijah shyly looked away from the scantily-clad girl dripping wet with droplets of water as she sat at the kitchen counter, staring coldly and intently at Ethan. She seemed an inch away from reaching for the nearby knife and stabbing it into his neck.
"Wouldn't kill me," Ethan said without looking up, as though he knew her intentions.
"I know. It'd hurt as hell though, I bet."
"... not really," Ethan replied calmly. His mind was long past assigning pain to something as banal as getting stabbed in the neck. "If it'd make you feel better, do it. I promise I won't defend or retaliate."
"Nothing would make me happier," she said. "But you ruined it by giving permission."
"Kind of like a girlfriend saying 'sure, go wank it to that questionable porn'?"
"Kind of like that, yeah," Tara replied sarcastically. "I heard the kid's coming with us. Are you sure about that? He'll probably pass out from just watching Ronald and me be subjected to something you'd see in torture chambers."
"Don't worry about the kid," Ethan glanced up at her, his lips curled up into a faint smile. "He's got a stomach for it. I have a sneaky suspicion that he'll perform the best out of the three of you."
"Aha, aha. A suspicion. Like you get that funny feeling about something that, somehow, in some magical way, is always 100% correct?" Tara mumbled.
"You're doing it again," Ethan said.
"Doing what? Stating the truth?"
"Lifting me up," he looked at her, expressionless. "Do you want to know why I have that 'sneaky suspicion' or a 'funny feeling' as you call it?"
"..."
"When I was saving the kid," Ethan said. "I yanked a leg off of one of the kids bullying him. And Elijah didn't pass out, or vomit, or convulse at the sight of it. He's a strong kid. You all are, truth be told."
"Ah, here comes the carrot," Tara scoffed.
"The carrot?" Ethan looked at her with a confused look. "You're still under the impression that I'm doing some wicked but tested psychological method on you?"
"Nah, you just tend to feed us just enough bullshit to make us feel barely good. Like an abusive parent. 'Yes, A- is amazing! But let's aim for A+ for the next test, shall we?'. Nothing is ever good, just… good enough."
"I shouldn't look further into that, right?" Ethan asked with a faint smile.
"Do whatever the hell you want," Tara shrugged, standing up. "You always do anyway." She walked off and sat on the couch, opposite of poor Elijah who suddenly, once again, did not know where to look, so he practically buried his head into the phone.
Ethan stared at a somewhat dehumanised frame of a young girl sitting with her legs crossed, head resting on one hand, eyes gazing off into the nothing. And struggle though he did… he still couldn't feel the permeating guilt and shame for what he was doing to her. He thought, deep down, that as he returned and interacted with Layla and other people more and more, parts of his humanity would slowly start surfacing. But they weren't. They were still buried in the depths of him he feared ever treading.
Patience, he thought. Rome wasn't built in a day…