A New World: Awakening by John O'Brien Page B

will, however, keep the ramp clear of night runners.
    The interior is lit up at close intervals as the storms draw overhead; the brilliant flashes of intense white light fill the inside.   The cracks of thunder follow at close intervals with their sound fading off in rumbles.   The sky opens up and heavy rain beats against the skin of the aircraft.   The din inside makes it hard to hear anything else.   We just settle in where we can and wait it out.
    With the storms hammering outside and turning day into night, it’s hard to actually tell when night comes.   The only way I know, besides it actually getting darker outside, is the stirring of pictures/voices in my head.   I pack them down to where they are a remote and almost ignorable buzz.   However, the increased signals denote the time of the night runners is about to begin.   I’m not sure how the storms will affect their normal activity but I’m interested in finding out.   I don’t feel them moving about a whole lot as I can only sense the ones close.   The range of sensing becomes limited the more I keep the ability in the back of my head.
    I notice that the fact that I can sense and understand the night runners is settling within me.   It still seems weird but it is transforming to become “normal.”   I now know that the picture voices in my head are real and I am also equally sure it must have been some change that came about from being scratched.   Some of the night runner blood must have run across the opening in my skin.   I also feel fear inside because I wonder if the changing is finished.   I am not at all interested in transforming into one of them.   That would totally suck.   I don’t feel any more headaches or changes so I’m hoping that whatever happened has run its course.
    The storms dissipate or move on as the night progresses.   With the departure of the wind, light, and noise, the night runners emerge.   It’s not long before the last of the thunder rumbles away and is replaced by several night runners slamming against the sides of the aircraft.   Their all-too-familiar shrieks echo through the thin fuselage.   It brings back reminders of our first few days.   It’s not a complacent feeling as being encircled by the ferocious night runners is never comfortable.   All it takes is one opening and they’ll be all over us.
    I climb into the cockpit to get a look outside.   It’s quite apparent we’re not going to get any sleep so I wearily climb the steps.   The sky has cleared and the stars glow brightly in the night sky with no other light to interfere.   I see the night runners clearly as they are gathered around taking runs at the aircraft.   Some are trying to leap onto the trailing edge of the wings but fall way short.   I open my mind a touch to them and see the picture images.   There seems to be leaders among them giving directions; directing other night runners to different places and to try different approaches.   This all comes in pictures rather than words but I find myself understanding their meaning.
    With me opening up, I notice one off to the side by the outboard engine on the left.   He is staring intently at me.   I try to focus in on individual images and sense a confusion radiating from him.   It’s as if he’s trying to understand something new.   The images and “language” are very primitive but I do get the gist.   In my tired state, with my mind seeming to float from one idea to another, the thought comes wondering if I can project like they can.
    “Stop!”   I project the appropriate image forth trying to cast it over a wide area.
    Every night runner halts in their tracks and turn their heads abruptly to stare directly at me.   At least the ones I see do.   I sense the one I think of as the leader startle.   The images from the leader resume and the night runners continue their attempts at entry.   Hmmmm…. Interesting , I think.
    “I said stop!   Or I’ll kill all