*** Author’s Note: I’m glad this didn’t take as long as the last gap between posts. This is a very dark chapter. Thanks for sticking with me this far, there’s a lot more to come. ***

*** Part Three of the Infamous Day. The Death of Archie Kell ***

I woke up.

It was pitch black or I’d gone blind. I started to sit up, but everything was stiff and kinda numb.

Numb.

I didn’t hurt. No headache. No fire running through me. Even my knees didn’t hurt. But my body just didn’t want to cooperate.

As I finally got to where I was sitting up, the lights kicked on. I was back home in Indianapolis., or sort of. I was down in the Bunker. Pap built it behind the restoration shop back in the 80’s, when everyone was scared that we were going to war with the Elves. The lights are hooked up to motion detectors to save battery power. I did those myself a couple of years ago. A fifty foot tube under ten feet of ferro-concrete and cold iron.

I noticed I was laying on the comforter from my room back In the base. Great-Gran’s bag was still right next to me, I’d been lying on the shoulder strap. My tablet was here too.

“How the hell did I get here?’

I don’t normally talk to myself, but sometimes you just do. I started to get to my feet. But they didn’t work. I couldn’t feel my feet at all. They didn’t move. My knees would move some, but not much. It was all numb.

What the fuck did that stuff they put In me do? I broke down right there. I cried that I didn’t hurt anymore. I cried that I couldn’t walk. Pap. The look of desperation on his face as he held me down.

I let it all out. I don’t know how long I lay there and cried.

Finally, I was cried out. I had that deep ache in my chest, the one you get after bawling your eyes out. I felt empty. As the ache in my chest eased, I realized how I got here. The Doc’s little blue string was gone. His magic brought me here, where evidently I feel safe.

Oh shit! I can’t get out of here, not unless I can get in touch with someone to help. There’s about a half-ton of car parts sitting on top of the hatch. That doesn’t include the rung ladder to get to that hatch. Sigh.

I felt it starting. The self-pity party. It wasn’t fucking fair. It just wasn’t. My fubar genes screwed me again. Those militant crazies tried to turn me into a super and what do I get?

No walkies for me. Oh no! That’s just too damned good for the likes of Archie Kell. Can’t go pain free without giving up something really crucial! The floodgates opened the second time and I cried until I was completely exhausted. I fell asleep.

***

It was dark again. I waved my arm. It was stiff, and didn’t want to move. Sleeping on concrete will do that. Yes it will. The lights came on. I sat up. Slowly. I have to stop sleeping on concrete floors. My stomach rumbled for several seconds. It matched the case of dry mouth I had going.

Twenty feet away there was cases of canned food and bottled water. Twenty feet. Not much of a distance. Not until you have to crawl that far without your legs. Not when you’re six-four and weigh north of four hundred pounds. So I started pulling myself along the floor. My arms were stiff, and I cold barely get my knees to move. It’s bad to sleep on concrete floors.

I don’t know how long it took to get to the supplies. It was inches at a time as I pulled myself across the floor. I got so tired I had to stop and rest twice. But, I finally got over to where I could reach the food and water. I popped the top on a can of mini ravioli and started drinking/eating it right from the can. Cold. I washed it down with room temperature water.

The most delicious meal I can remember having lately. It was so good, I had a second can of the mini ravioli.

Ah. I had that full tummy feeling. Now I need to get on the internet and see what’s going on.

My tablet. I actually looked around me for a moment. Out of habit I guess. Nope.

There it sat. Right where I left it. Twenty feet away. Back on the comforter.

…

…

Aw, fuck. For someone who’s supposed to be a genius, I can be dumber than shit.

I got turned around and started back towards my tablet. I started crawling again. Pulling myself by inches along the floor. I stared at the tablet. Focused on it. My arms ached.

That’s when an old friend decided to come back. I was staring at the tablet when the old headache came back. The same old deep stabbing pain through the middle of my brain. It hit like a lightning bolt.

***

I woke up. It was pitch black again. I waved my arm, it was harder to move, and the lights kicked on again. This sleeping on concrete is killing me. Right in front of me sat my tablet.

My tablet.

What the…

Okay. Time to be rational. Tablet was there. Twenty feet away. I was looking right at it, focused on getting to it. The headache hit, and out I went. I wake up and it’s right here in front of me. There’s no one else here but me, so somehow I moved it. Yay, I’m a super?

How? And, does it mean the headaches again?

Okay, okay. I picked up the tablet. I looked it over. There were scuff marks on the case. So… I didn’t teleport it. My arms are really stiff, so I didn’t stretch out and grab it, they’d have to be so much more flexible. Some sort of extra appendage? Retractable appendage? Telekinesis? Do I manifest a little servant of some sort?

I tapped the power button, nothing. The tablet wasn’t asleep. I held the power button down for a couple of seconds, then released it. Still nothing. Damn. Probably an empty battery.

I blew out a long breath. Time to experiment. Great-Gran’s bag was still sitting on the comforter down there. I stared at it. I focused on it.

Nothing happened. No headache. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

I stared and stared, thought of nothing else but having the bag in my hand.

Nothing.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. My fingers felt weird. They were getting stiff too. Yep, sleeping on the concrete is really not good. Fortunately there are bunks ten feet further in the bunker. I started to get a strange taste in my mouth. I got turned back around, which wasn’t fun, and grabbed a bottle of water.

I threw the bottle towards the comforter, but my stiff arms and fingers made it where I only got it about halfway in between. Tonight I’m sleeping in a bunk. No more concrete and this stiffness will start going away. Yes it will.

I wanted that water. I was thirsty. I concentrated on that. I figure that it can’t hurt. I stared at the water, I focused on it. I scrunched my brow, focusing as hard as I could on that bottle of water. Of how good it would taste right now.

I felt a pop in my head. Like something bad had happened. I prayed that I wasn’t having a stroke. Then the bottle twitched. No ectoplasmic appendages. I could feel something stretching out from my mind to the bottle, and it didn’t hurt. I concentrated on that feeling in my mind. I felt it get stronger. It took me a few minutes but I made the bottle roll back to me. It felt like I had a line from me to the bottle.

Telekinesis.

Telekinesis is rare. Extremely rare. I’m not sure I can recall more than two in my lifetime. Lots of instances of the other derivative abilities of Psychokinesis, pyrokinesis, cryokinesis, etc.. I’ve got telekinesis. I stopped. Why can’t I just be normal? Why can’t I just be a normal sixteen year old girl?

No. That’s too good for me.

With tears in my eyes, choking back my self-hate before I lost it and bawled my eyes out again, I wiped my eyes and took hold of myself. Years of practice keeping my emotions in check for Pap kicked in. I took a deep breath.

I need to get things arranged so I don’t sleep on the concrete again.

I focused on forming that line with my mind, and reached out to the wall switch down by the door. Now the lights would stay on. I flipped the switch next to it and the the fans kicked on. It wasn’t until I felt the breeze from the fans wash over me that I realized just how warm it was. It felt good. Now I wanted a shower, but I don’t think that’s happening any time soon. Not until whatever is happening to me runs it course.

I looked down the wall to where the comforter lay, tagged it with my line and started pulling it to me. It took several tries but I had the comforter and Great-Gran’s bag in hand. I put several cans of food, bottles of water, utensils, drink mix and a roll of paper towels in the comforter and drew it up like a bag. I took my telekinetic line and wound it around the bag.

I picked it up from the ground with my mind. I felt a tension in my mind, a kind of strain. Sort of like when you pick something up from the ground with your arm straight. But in my head. Weird. I pushed it over to the closest bunk. Again, it took several tries, and I was starting to get a headache. A new one. Finally, I got the bag over to the bunk. I rested until the new headache subsided.

Now to experiment a little bit. I opened my comforter bag up and stacked the contents next to the bunk. It took a while and I learned something while doing it. I was stacking the cans, and I wobbled one and without thinking reached out to catch it. My line became a hand. Everything got easier. This was cool!

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Now I had to get myself to the bunk. I pulled the comforter back over and spread it out on the floor next to me. I rolled onto the comforter and then lifted the corners to take as much weight as I could lift. I didn’t get me off the ground. But it made it easier to pull myself across the floor.

After several minutes of experimenting with the comforter, I finally just used my telekinesis on my pants and got myself into the bunk.

Sooo Comfy!

I covered up with the comforter and went to sleep.

***

When I woke up, I couldn’t feel anything below the waist. My eyesight wasn’t as good as before. Dimmer. Breathing is harder. Fingers and arms are very stiff. I’m on my way to becoming a quadriplegic. A cripple with telekinesis. I haven’t felt the need to go to the toilet since I woke up here, and I know that’s not good.

On the bright side, because I’m just not going to spend another day crying, I’ve got telekinesis. On the other hand, I feel like something Death vomited back up. I grabbed the pillows from the other bunks and got myself propped up. Time to find out more about Great-Gran.

I took her bag, with the weird Orion emblem, and dumped it onto the floor in front of the bunk. The slugthrower that I put in there came out. So did jars of makeup, books, handcuffs, manacles, boxes of tissues, rolls of toilet paper, another slugthrower pistol, ammunition, an electric kettle, boxes of tea, large tea mugs, bottles of wine and various liquors, notebooks, pens, bottles of ink, napkin pads, jewelry (including several bracelets of different sizes in pure lapis lazuli) and a golf ball sized orb of crystal.

That was the stuff I could recognize. I don’t know where it all came from. It’s a small bag. About the size of a small messenger bag or small grocery bag. I brought it up, pulled the flap back and looked in.

***

I don’t know how long I had stared into the bag. I just don’t know. I don’t even remember what I saw. I did learn never look in the bag. I think I stared into it until I got so tired my mind couldn’t hold it up. My whole body shuddered just thinking about looking in it again. So I set the bag aside.

I rooted through the pile and picked up the crystal golf ball. As my telekinesis touched it, it glowed electric blue. Beautiful. I wanted to touch it so I lay the ball in my hand.

It began to pulse. Light, dark, light, dark.

I felt something in my mind. Then shrieking noises. Flaring lights. Pressure. The old headache. It got more intense. It got bad. Then I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

I was dying. I knew it. I could feel it. Just slowly slipping away.

And then it all went black.

To be continued…

*** Hi, again. If you read all the way to the end, please let me know by clicking the little (Good Story!) button please. Also, if you’re of a mind to do so, leave a comment! All comments will be greatly appreciated!!! ***