Chapter Eleven
Aaron
Miss Parker emerged through the trees behind Jack, Kate, and Locke. Her three companions spread out amongst the camp, making themselves busy. Parker sat down next to a young blonde woman, who at the moment was nursing a young baby.
"He's beautiful," Miss Parker said.
She looked up, a bit startled, "Thank you."
"I'm Miss Parker by the way."
She smiled, "A bit formal don't you think?"
Parker gave a slight shrug as he watched the baby. "He reminds me of my baby brother, Beau."
"You have a baby brother."
Parker didn't answer, she simply watched the baby. "I'm Claire," the young woman said.
Parker gave her a half-hearted smile. Again, she was hit with voices. The child. The child is dangerous. The child. Save the child. The different voices swirled on her head and even though she was sitting, she swayed. The child. The child. The child. It was like a chant in her head.
"Miss Parker are you alright," Claire asked.
Parked said nothing, she barely heard the woman. All she could hear was the chanting. The child. The child. The child. The child. The blood drained from Parker's face as she stared at the young infant. So innocent and yet…
Danger. The child is dangerous. Run! Stay! Help! Help the child! Run from the child! It is dangerous. Danger. Danger. Danger.
Parker clamped her hands over her ears, wanting to make the voices stop but they came at full speed. From across the camp, Sun was watching her with fear and interest. Sun came running across the camp and knelt down next to Miss Parker. She was rocking and holding her hands over ears.
Sun instinctively wrapped her arms around Miss Parker in order to make her stop rocking. Parker shoved her off and continued rocking.
The child. Kill the child! Save the child! Kill the child! Save the child! Answers. The answers you seek. Child. Answers. Child. Answers. Danger. Safety.
Parker let loose a whimper. The different voices were invading her mind at an alarming rate. At a rate she couldn't control. A rate she didn't understand. She dropped her hands from her ears and let loose a blood curdling scream, hoping to make it stop. Then everything went black.
When Parker next opened her eyes she found Jarod dabbing a wet piece of cloth to her forehead, "You're burning up," Jarod muttered to her.
From the corner of her eyes Parker could see that night had fallen and that campfires had been set up all across the place. "What happened?" She asked in a hushed tone.
"You tell us," Jack said, sitting down next to her. "One moment you were talking to Claire and the next you were rocking back and forth, whimpering to yourself. Sun tried to calm you down but you wouldn't. You just kept rocking until you screamed and passed out."
"What did they say to you?" Jarod asked, his face stone serious.
Parker looked away from Jack and found compassion in Jarod's eyes. Her lower lip trembled and she felt like a child again, "How'd you know?"
Jarod gave a shrug, "I was a shrink in Memphis, once, remember?"
Parker did remember, "The child," she said in a hoarse voice. "It was all about the child," she gripped Jarod's arm fiercely, "Jarod, there's something not right about the child. Something evil."
Jack raised his eyebrows and offered Parker a cup of crushed fruit. Jarod helped Parker rest up against the boulder. Parker took the cup from Jack and slowly began to eat.
Jack pulled Jarod aside, "Does she often have these delusions?"
Jarod shook his head and replied, "They're not delusions. It's her inner sense. It's like an advanced gut feeling," he said, remembering what Parker had said back in the hatch, "I've never seen it overwhelm her though."
Jack stared at him with a disbelieving look, "What sorts of meds is she on?"
"None," Jarod said, feeling suddenly defensive. "Look you see it all the time in certain hospital wards. People who don't know how to develop their inner sense, who are unable to control it, often find themselves overwhelmed by it. Parker, however, has learned to develop it in such a way that she can understand it."
Jarod had the impression that Jack didn't quiet believe him.
