The Cure

That was probably the smartest move I made all day.

I joined the next wave of people. No one seemed to mind much. I cautiously reflected on the feeling I'd just had. If it was that intense to smell just one human, how would I control myself in a room filled with them? I shook my head and put myself in a cooler, more confident state of mind. I would only be breathing around Erek, and if I remembered correctly, no one sat close enough to us to induce a reaction. I held my head up high and continued with a purpose — to see my best friend.

My mind thought up all sorts of different conversations we would have, then I realized that I barely remembered what he looked like. I closed my eyes as I walked and remembered the last time I'd seen him. He'd commented on how I was so tired all the time. Asked me if there was anything wrong. I hadn't had the heart to tell him the truth — or that I was on the verge of sacrificing everything I held dear so I would never have to tell him the truth.

The things I'd lied about that day were painful; I didn't want to think about them. That had been the day I'd made my decision, one of the most confusing in my life — another great reason not to think about it. Instead, I focused on exactly how he'd looked. His beautiful sky-blue eyes had shone bright with concern, I remembered that clearly. I also remembered that his dark hair had fallen into them at some point. I could see my hand reaching out to sweep it away, trembling with effort and pain. He'd grabbed my hand and squeezed it before I could pull away. Because he'd meant well, I smiled through the excruciating ache it caused. After that, everything blurred together.

Sighing, I opened my eyes. That was my last human memory. It was a pretty good one, too, in my opinion, but it just wasn't the sort of thing you wanted to remember when you were on your way to see the very person it was about. Doubly so if you weren't sure how that person would react to you.

I forced myself to lock it away inside my head again, just as I had before this whole ordeal started. I made myself put thought into the speed of my steps and my posture. Just because all of the people around me weren't staring didn't mean I should give them reason to.

As I did this, I realized that I had almost arrived at my destination. There was a little less than twenty yards between the cafeteria and myself. I felt my thoughts split into two parts — old and new. The old part was happy for the feeling of routine that accompanied the sight of the brick red doors. The new part was incomprehensible and noticeably psychotic, ripping and tearing and frothing inside my mind. It was identical to the thoughts I'd gotten when I smelled that first person and gave me this weird feeling, like something bad was about to happen. I tried my hardest to ignore it.

I just hoped it would leave me alone while I was with Erek.

As the metal double doors steadily approached, I prepared myself for the worst. Even with all the lies I'd made up in my head, there was no guarantee that he would accept me. He might find the changes I'd gone through suspicious or weird — which they were. Normal people didn't go from being talkative and plain to pale, brooding, and haunted overnight. In fact, I would be worried if he didn't pick up on something strange.

I paused at the door before opening it; it had come to me much too fast. Was I really ready to be in such a big crowd? Especially a crowd with my beloved friend nestled somewhere inside?

I practically forced myself to push the bar that let me in to the room. While it swung open, I wouldn't open my eyes. If I saw how many people were in the room I knew I would turn around and leave for good. When it wouldn't open any more I calmly swept my hair back — a human gesture, to dispel any suspicion — and squared my shoulders. With fake confidence and a growing sense of dread, I stepped into the overflowing cafeteria and let my eyelids flutter apart.

My heart started pounding. There were so many people . . . So much live blood . . .

"No," I murmured aloud, surprising myself. "No, I can't think like that. I have to concentrate on controlling myself . . . Concentrate on getting to Erek . . ."

Discreetly, I scanned the crowd. At first, the number of humans clustered in the small room distracted me, and the image of a rather large genocide formed in my mind. I could see myself taking them all down, one by one . . . Tracking the ones who tried to run . . . It would be such fun to hear them all scream as —

I shook my head to clear the thought and banished it from my mind. There would be no killing here.