Kalli's Journal

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Life

The worst part, Rusty thought, was the screaming. He was sure that he'd done his own share, at least in his head, but this was different. This was the worst kind of screaming - it was something beyond basic pain and somehow deeper. Rusty was fairly sure that it wasn't just the man's body that was in shreds, but his soul as well.

After a week, or something like that, the screaming had died down to crazed murmurs. And then, twisting and squinting and in general moving more than Rusty had thought the man should be capable of, Rusty found himself being stared at.

With surprise. As if he really hadn't noticed during his week. Rusty swallowed hard, an unpleasant reaction considering the tube in his throat. He'd been promised a reprieve from it - he was doing well, but with all the new bodies being brought in, obviously, he was stuck waiting. It wasn't bad. Kept him from complaining about most everything else he wanted to complain about.

The stare turned to a glare. Rusty gave a little headshake. He was neither responsible for landing the man in the hospital or for his still being alive. Rusty had caught the words 'augmented Natural' and really, back at the beginning of the war, he would have made sure to kill the man properly. Now... Life was life. The doctors and nurses who'd fussed over him were a mix of Naturals and Coordinators and really, it didn't matter.

By the second day of relative coherence, the man was trying to flip him off. He'd lost enough bandages that Rusty could see blond hair and decent features under a map of bruises and cuts. They were about the same age.

Rusty tried waving. And got the finger again. So he flipped it back, which seemed to surprise the man.

It killed time surprisingly well for the rest of the day, until a nurse caught them doing it.

"Rusty. Orga," she scolded. "Seriously..."

An hour later, she'd returned with lightweight foam balls to throw at one another.

It was much better than the screaming.