Concerns About Control and Taking Charge

I wait for Kat behind the coats, and in moments, she joins me. “What is it, Jackson?” she asks, knowing exactly what it is.

I shake my head at her attempt to deflect. “You know exactly what it is,” I reply, before adding for clarification, “The wince.”

Immediately, Kat goes on the defensive. “It was barely a wince,” she insists, “And I’m pretty sure Mrs. Hernandez didn’t notice anything.”

I nod. “You’re right, it wasn’t that big. And I also don’t think she noticed, though she’s a bit hard to read. Doesn’t change what happened.” I look at her, and there is a bit more acknowledgement in her eyes. “Do you want to talk to me about it, or just have me guessing for the rest of the storm.”

As though on cue, she winces once more. The same gritting of teeth and momentary shifting of focus. This one slightly more visible than the last time, though once again she does manage to suppress it impressively quickly. Yet, it helps my point, as I give her a slightly emphatic look of ‘see, that’. She shakes her head, genuinely smiling when she sees the look. “Fine,” she admits, “Look, I can feel when people are close to dying, kinda like the early warning version of whatever Mrs. Hernandez has been going through. But, as long as I’m paying attention and catch it in time, I can stop them from actually dying.”

I furrow my brow in genuine curiosity. “How? What’s that like? I assume you told Seleste this during your talk.”

“Yeah. And it’s weird. Like, I can feel something sinister, a hallway with a door ajar, but it isn’t there. And despite it being like a hundred and fifty or so feet that way,” she gestures in the direction of the nearest wall, “It’s also right here. And I can close that door before they make it down the hallway, and then, evidently, they don’t die.”

“And how much of a problem is it?” I ask.

She sighs. “Honestly, it hasn’t happened very often. I just think there are a few people living in one of the alleys a few blocks in the opposite direction as you were focused on clearing. Not a big deal, only four or so trapped in their hallways.”

Interesting. Though, if there are only four, it is fairly unlikely that someone was dying in that area just outside the safe zone of the storm at the exact moment I’m talking about it with her. But she doesn’t seem like she’s lying or downplaying anything about it. Perhaps there is something greater at play that wants us to figure everything out. “Should I widen the safe area of the storm?” I ask, “Try to cover everything?”

“Assuming it’s actually some kind of group living there, maybe. Certainly won’t hurt,” Kat replies, then furrows her brow, asking in response, “Are you sure that you can actually manage that? Won’t be too rough?”

I shrug. “No. But if it’ll help you not deal with whatever is causing you to grit your teeth and wince that much, it’s worth a try at least,” I admit, then as I see some worry crossing onto her face, I add a quick, “Don’t worry, if whatever it is gets to be too much, I’ll pull back again.”

She sighs, shaking her head but assenting. “I suppose. But don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

“Fine,” I joke, plastering a smile on my face, “If you insist, I won’t do as much work on my vacation.”

Kat chuckles as I head towards the door to the lobby. Poking my head out, I can see the cloudy skies around us, the storm still raging a bit out, but not in the immediate area. And I give it a shot. “Hey, storm,” I ask politely, “Could you please back off a bit further. You’re disturbing the guests. Five hundred feet will do.” I can feel the tingling around and in my mouth as electricity crackles around between my two lips and my tongue. Looking out, nothing seems to have changed much. But he’s not sure how to tell whether that line in the storm is a hundred or five hundred feet away from him. Not with the city in the way. Hopefully, that worked. Stepping back inside, Kat has left the corner, and is walking over to join him. I shrug, adding, “I tried. Keep me updated, alright? Hide what you want from those having a rough go of it, but at least keep me in the loop, okay?”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she finally says. Then, jokingly, she adds, “Don’t know what makes you so special.”

Hilary, having overheard that, replies, “Probably the free rooms.”

Mister Jennings, for his part, adds, “Counterpoint, Kat’s the one who healed my leg, so…”

“Jennings makes a good point, babe,” Mikey replies, grinning.

I look at Mrs. Hernandez for her input, as she feeds her baby from a bottle. She notices my gaze, and replies, “Don’t look at me, I barely know either of you. I was unconscious in the elevator and most of this morning, remember.”

Jokingly, I look down at the infant. “What about you?” I ask with a grin, “Any opinions?”

This causes a chuckle from just about everyone, though Mrs. Hernandez does at least attempt to take it seriously, rocking her baby and asking, “Do you? Anything you want to say?” and after a moment, she smiles and looks back up at me. “Nope, seems like she’s still just a baby.” I realize in that moment that she wasn’t entirely joking around. Her other kid turned into some kind of font of knowledge after the elevator. She was, in a manner that seemed innocuous, checking to see if something similar had happened to her little girl.

“Dang it,” I say, with an exaggerated snap of my fingers, “I was counting on her vote.” Once again, that elicits some chuckles.

Unfortunately, it seems all the joking around drew some attention. A pair of hotel employees, a young man and woman, pop their heads in. I don’t recognize either of them, but that isn’t saying much. Other than the manager and receptionist I spoke with this morning and the kid that helped me with my bags when I first got here, I’m not positive I’d recognize any employees. Didn’t actually spend that much time in the hotel before today. They look concerned and one, the man, asks, “What are you,” he pauses to count, “Seven doing in the, I mean, this closet?”

We look at one another, and a couple of us realize why they noticed our chuckling. They were already on their way here. None of us seem to want to take the lead, and I facetiously look and smirk at Kat. She mutters under her breath, “Go fuck yourself.” Which I take as telling me to take charge.

With a sigh, I gesture for them to step in. They do, and I look around as the door closes. Once it’s closed, I quietly answer their question, “Look, we’re those people that were trapped in the elevator last night. We really don’t want to deal with the looks and attention of everyone else, so when the shelter in place was issued, we figured this is basically as safe as that room, and if we stayed in here, we wouldn’t have to deal with everyone watching us.” I keep it entirely true, though leaving out the specifics and letting them assume their own reasons for us to not want to be around other people.

The pair both do seem to understand, nodding along. “I get it,” the woman accepts my reasoning.

The man adds, “I suppose.”

I add the finishing touches. “If you guys insist, we’ll go back out there with you,” I offer, before asking, “But we’d really prefer to stay isolated in this nice, quiet, private space if at all possible.” I smile a strained but hopeful smile.

There is a pause. They whisper to one another for a moment. Then, after a back and forth that lasts long enough that I’m sure I didn’t do whatever happened this morning with the manager, the woman replies, “Okay, we’ll pass through and check the lobby, make sure it’s actually safe in here.” Not wholly truthful, but I can’t really blame her for that. They’re heading to the loading bay to hook up without cameras, but they probably will swing through the lobby to avoid going back into the shelter-in-place room.

“But if it’s bad, or it gets worse out there, you guys are going back into there, okay?” the man insists.

I sigh. “Okay,” I reply, fully knowing that won’t happen. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” she responds.

Then, after I smile, the male employee says, “No seriously, don’t mention it. Mr. Montero would probably fire us on the spot.”

Mrs. Hernandez, from behind them, smiles and says, “Don’t worry, Nate, we got you.”

That statement relaxes the pair of employees as they head out the door towards the lobby. The door shuts behind them, and then Mrs. Hernandez moves us back to our original discussion, “Never mind about the abstention,” she jokes.

Kat jokingly pouts. “It’s not my fault Jackson gets to control minds.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I say, “I did not control anyone’s minds. This time. I think. Probably.”

“Probably?” Mikey asks, smirking.

I shrug, “Didn’t feel the same as this morning, right,” I explain, “But I don’t know. They still, like, actually listened to me and agreed.”

“Wait, so you think just being able to talk to people now is some kind of mind control?” Hilary asks.

I shrug again, then sigh. “I really don’t know. Most of you remember, people didn’t really used to listen to me, and now they do. And the only other difference I can tell so far is that I can control things. How else am I supposed to interpret it?”

Jennings frowns, realizing I’m being serious all of a sudden. Everyone else sees this and, one at a time, realizes the same, then starts thinking about it. Finally Kat offers an idea to the group. “What if it’s like my breathing thing? Our bodies changed to fit our powers in some arbitrary ways, right? Why couldn’t other aspects of us, too?” She explains, “Really, the big difference seems to be your confidence, so what if that’s it. Maybe the power of control or whatever needed to make you more confident so you could actually use it?”

Mrs. Hernandez nods, understanding. “Like how my son got smarter to be able to synthesize his seemingly endless knowledge.”

“Or I got more nimble and responsive to handle my new speediness,” Hilary offers.

I nod, accepting the theory. It would make sense. “We should run the idea by Seleste once the smart crew gets back,” I half-joke, before adding, “But it sounds good enough to me.”

“Hey,” Kat insists, “We’re smart too, we were just more useful here.”

I give her a judgemental look, but before I can reply, Mister Jennings replies jokingly, “Speak for yourself. All my years of wisdom tells me I’m real dumb.”

Then Mikey adds, “And Hil and I both figured we’d be getting in the way of team geniuses and college kids.”

Mrs. Hernandez says with her own chuckle. “My husband is neither of those. It’s team geniuses, college kids, and their chaperone.”

Kat shakes her head. “You’re all the worst,” she jokes.

Mrs. Hernandez’s smile drops slightly before returning. For a moment I worry that someone’s died, but Kat didn’t react at all. Something about being labeled the worst must have gotten to her somehow. But, I figure I ought to check to be sure. Leaning over to whisper to Kat, I ask, “We’re good with the hallways, right?”

She whispers back, “No changes,” not having noticed the momentary change in expression.

I nod. And I realize that we really don’t know anything about each other aside from the barebones basics. I make an arbitrary decision for the group. “Once the storm’s passed,” I say, “We all need to head up to Seleste’s room and figure this thing out.”

They look at one another, shrugging and fairly non-committal. Mister Jennings is the one who nods. “It’ll be a bit crowded, but we need to be together and figure it out as a group. Before I accidentally burn down another building.”