Sheri was still talking. "You might have some pain with fresh tattoos on the march. But there ain't no stopping that storm – too powerful. It really is too late in the season for derechos, and the developing patterns were all wrong, but it's coming."
My eyes widened. Bee was still near, and the freak storms were still following us. We couldn't fool Mother Nature with even a little separation.
Scalpel-like sensations dragged across my shoulder. I twitched as fire went down my spine.
"Stay still," Layla, standing behind me, mumbled.
Above us, clouds moved in and the entire world seemed to go a few shades darker.
"We might need to move this outside – for the light," Sheri suggested.
Rain drops drizzled over the tent.
She sighed. "Guess we'll just have to make do."
My shoulder was finally going numb to the pain. I barely noticed when Layla stopped.
"Done with the back and neck."
"Done here, too." Sheri said.
They pressed clean gauze against the new tattoos and secured them with medical tape.
"Want anything on your legs?" Layla asked.
"No." I mostly wore pants, anyway. "Something on my face, though."
Layla's eyebrows rose, "Do you have anything specific in mind?"
"No," I answered. "I just don't want to look like me."
I caught them exchange a glance.
Layla smiled. "Kind of hard to do, unless we perform minor surgery." Stepping to the side, she surveyed me. "But we can do something subtle with your profile. And maybe some permanent eyeliner, and a darker lip shade…"
"We can continue what I did on her shoulder," Sheri suggested.
They both stepped around, discussing the canvas that was my body. When the needles came back on the two women worked alternately, tying in the pattern on my shoulder over Shawn's scar with another design on the side of my neck, going up to my face. It burned and pinched; cat scratches on a sunburn.
I stared at Layla's shoes as she worked. Her hands remained steady, but she tapped her foot like it was a nervous tick. Her tattoo gun felt like a sharpened pencil, scraping off my skin, cell by cell. I tried to concentrate on the beat of her tapping foot.
The side walls of my tent blew in and out, so far holding strong against the growing wind. Voices outside went from groggy, still recovering from the festivities the night before, to concerned. Shouts to break down the tents and secure loose items sounded around us. Inside, my two artists barely spoke, intent on their work.
"I'm out of black," Sheri said.
"Finish outlining in dark purple," Layla mumbled. But one by one the colors were beginning to run out.
After working on my eyelids, eyebrows and lips, they moved on to the detail work alongside my cheek and temple, ending on the side of my forehead. I gritted my teeth. My entire head vibrated as if they were inking directly onto my skull.
I wasn't sure I could let them finish, it was too much. "Wait—"
"Someone need a doctor?" I was cut off by a small form at the opening to my tent.
The needles stopped. Thank God.
"Yes, are you Sabrina?" I started to push myself up off the cot.
"No need to get up, I can work on you from there."
"Oh…okay," I reluctantly laid my head back down. I couldn't even rest it on my arms, covered in fresh, still bleeding tattoos as they were.
She came around the cot, set down a small stool near my head and took her place. Without asking, she began running her fingers through my hairline, pressing into my scalp. She glanced at the tattoo artists. "You may continue."
Darn.
The needles started back up, but the newcomer's fingers were distracting enough. "Erika told me you were having an issue with your powers. Did you hit your head?"
"Yes." One of the needles pinched extra hard as I spoke.
"Damn it," Layla mumbled.
Sabrina took no notice. "Any other symptoms?"
"Headaches, and my ears seem to be ringing a lot."
The needle pinched again.
"Ugh, no more talking!" Layla said. She wiped her brow, flexed her hand a few times, then continued.
I shut my mouth. I needed this to be over with about two hours ago. The wind was picking up even more and I needed to get word to Alex and Susan.
"Okay, I'm just going to poke around and see what I can find out," Sabrina said.
Isn't that what she has been doing?
I glanced up to see her close her eyes. I didn't dare try to tap into what she was doing. The last thing everyone in the tent needed was to be puked on. My head tingled, and the ringing in my ears started up again.
It stopped all at once when her eyes flew open.
"What's the matter?" I asked. She was staring straight ahead, eyes still wide. She didn't answer me. She just got up and started for the tent flap like she had a sudden case of small bladder. "Wait!" I yelled after her.