Vanishing Rain (Blue Spectrum Chronicles Book 2) (5 page)

Chapter 10

Fire

Blush eyed me fiercely and reached for the first aid kit that was resting on the ugly couch.  She drenched my arm with antiseptic, and I stifled a cry. I didn’t know if she was trying to hurt me or if it was typical first aid for someone who had cut out a tracker-timer.

“Shit,” she grunted.  “This is nasty.  You need a damn doctor…should have had stitches.”

Gulping, I tried to explain. “I…”

But she interrupted. “Goddamn it,” she swore, pouring more antiseptic over the wound.  It burned so badly I thought I would pass out, and if it was anyone but Blush, I probably would have screamed out loud.  My mind was floating in blackness, little motes popping up occasionally in my vision.  But it was the dizziness that threatened to do me in as she applied some sort of ointment over the gaping hole in my arm.

Blush wrapped my arm back up with fresh gauze.  Once the wound was covered, I felt better, but my arm ached badly, throbbing with every pulse of my heart.

“Lie down,” she ordered, and I gratefully leaned back into the soft pillow.  It was silent for a moment, and I closed my eyes, just wanting to go back to sleep. 

But Blush had other ideas.  Words she had apparently kept locked up seemed to make a jail break at that precise moment.  “You know, Garment is Dove’s brother?”

Her word chased images of Dove and Garment and Falcon into my mind. I had noticed similarities about them all before but nobody had ever told me that Garment and Dove were related.  I let out a hot puff of air.  I should have figured it out from what she had said before.

I opened my eyes, meeting hers. “No…but I did noticed they both wave their hands the same way…just like Falcon.” 

I thought for a minute.  How could his name be Garment if he was Dove’s sister?  Their family crest was birds, one of the original high born crests, even older than my family’s.

“Why isn’t he named after a bird?”

Blush laughed again, only this time it held a mean streak in it.  “The Administration was going to Exile him, you know, for being gay.”

I sat up quickly, my head swimming. “Gods, no!”

I thought about it for a moment.  In Province A, everybody was heterosexual.  It was mandated. I had never even known of anyone being gay, had never thought about it other than the mean comments the boys always made about Instructor 74. I had never stopped to think about homosexuality other than knowing it to be a transgression in the Provinces, one of the many ridiculous mandates we had to follow. 

“Yep,” Blush continued.  “Dove changed his name, and he set himself up in business here.”  She smiled kindly at me, maybe for the first time.  “I was a mess, after losing the baby. He took me in.  And Sergio.”

She continued without even coming up for air. “Garment’s one of the kindest people I know.  We put up a front, you know.”  She tossed her head boyishly again.  “People think we’re marriage partners. We even went through with the ceremony.”  She smiled shyly at me.  “I’d do anything for him.  But we aren’t real marriage partners…if you know what I mean.”  She grinned.  “Just good friends.”

“Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.  Then the old Blush returned for a visit, glaring sharply at me. She puffed up, almost visibly. “I would kill anyone who endangered him.  Or Sergio.”

I stared her down.  “You don’t have to worry about me,” I spit back at her.  “I’m in more trouble than either of you.” I fell back against the couch, my head splitting into chunks and my arm roaring with sharp, hot slices of pain.

Blush did the oddest thing then.  She tenderly reached her hand to my forehead, placing it there like a mother would, like my own mother had when I was a littlie. Before Snow and Ice were born.  Before…when she wasn’t so bad.

Blush’s words were brusque as her eyes carved through me, a laser beam of greenish brown mixed with a dose of worry that was unmistakable, even for Blush.  “Shit, kid, you’re on fire,” she exhaled.

Chapter 11

Fever

Blush stormed out of the back room and I leaned back onto the couch wondering how long I would be able to stay with Garment. Probably not too long.  I was nauseous again, and I felt cold and clammy.  I started shivering, so I searched for a blanket or something to wrap up in.  There was a thin purple comforter at the end of the couch, and I curled up in it. Aching everywhere by then, not just my arm, it felt like a poisonous viper was inside of me, traveling through my veins at a rapid rate and burning everything in its path.  I worried about the baby.

Blush returned, holding a bottle of nutrient water and a small red pill.  “Here.” She held out the pill and water to me.  It’s an antibiotic.  It’ll fight infection.”  She shot a stern look at me.  “And it won’t hurt the baby.”

I tried to prop myself up, but the intense pain clamped my body back to the couch as if a wrecking ball had swung from the ceiling, hitting me with full force.  “Are you sure?” I croaked.

Blush knelt by me, propping me up with a pillow. “Yeah, I’m sure. Now drink up.”

By that point I had become so irritable that I imagined my hands around her neck.  There was a piece of me that knew Blush was trying to help me, but that portion was small and buried deep beneath the earth.  I was having a difficult time digging it up.

“Quit bossing me around,” I barked at her, my voice hoarse and raw.  “Besides, how would you know?” I asked suspiciously.  I had already consumed champagne and the brandy I took from the apartment.  None of that could have been good for the baby.  I didn’t want to add medicine to the list…chances were pretty high that the baby would be born with S.L.A.G., anyway.

“Pan went to med school.  He’s a doctor.”

The words came out a whisper of pain. “Who is Pan?”

“Another…friend.  He’ll be here soon.  He always leaves us with a supply of medicine.  For emergencies just like this.”  Blush awkwardly patted my head.

I shot her a nasty look for good measure, took the pill with my icy hand, and croaked, “I’m not a dog.” I gulped down the pill with a small swallow that felt like acid was burning its way to my stomach.  It hurt so badly, I wanted to scream, but by then I was so tired I didn’t have the energy. My stomach gurgled, and then I became hot, almost violently swishing the blanket off my body.

I laid back onto the couch, thinking that death might be a better option.  I had never felt so sick in my life. 

“You need to eat.  A little broth would be good for you.”  Blush surveyed me with concern, folding her plain eyebrows downward. “Do you think you could hold some down…for the baby?”  Like a cold front had moved into the tiny room, I started shivering again and pulled the blanket up to my chin, wrapping myself into a tight cocoon.

Food was the last thing I wanted, but there was something different about Blush, and I relented. As harsh as Blush had always been, she seemed to be softer now that she knew I was pregnant.  It was as though it was her personal mission to save the baby.  I nodded my head, feeling the hammers inside of it pounding ruthlessly away, watching with dull eyes as she scurried out of the room.

Garment sashayed in just then, clapping his hands.  The lights flashed on and then off.  Then back on. “Oh, daarling…”  He stopped mid-sentence, mid-clap.  “You look terrible.  What did Blush do to you?”

My teeth were chattering.  “N...n…noth…ing.”

He sat down beside me and took my hand in his.  His long fingers were warm to the touch.  “Are you well enough to make a plan, little one?”

I nodded my head, even though I couldn’t think beyond surviving the next few moments that savagely crept up on me with painful, bone crunching awareness.  I pulled the blanket tighter around my body, if that was even possible.  My hair hung limply in my eyes, but I was too tired to push it away. 

“Good.  Here’s what I’m thinking.  You need to rest up for a few weeks.” He scrunched his eyebrows downward while patting my legs, which felt like he was blasting sharp rocks on them. I pulled myself into a different position. “How far along do you think you are?”

“C…couple months,” I managed to get out, my breath scalding my hands and arms, anything in its path.

Garment nodded, folding his lower lip under as if in deep thought. Somehow, I became even colder than before, and he automatically reached for another blanket and wrapped me in it.  He continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary, like pregnant teens showed up on his doorstep every day.  “If you wait much longer, you might be…showing.  You can stay here until the baby is born, but then you would have to stay in the back room forever, never leaving.  You and the baby.”  He held his gaze on me with a fatherly expression.  “It wouldn’t be good for a baby to be raised in this atrocious dark old room.  And, if the Administration somehow found the baby, they would…ah…you know…kill it.”

“I..I’m g..going t…t…to the Asters,” I told him with determination through chattering teeth. “I..I…I’m g…going to b...be an Exile.” I forced the words out, each sound a match being lit in my throat. All I wanted to do was sleep, for everybody to leave me alone.  Just then Blush came in with a bowl of broth, setting it in front of me sternly.

Without missing a beat, Garment picked up the bowl and spoon, ladling some out and holding it to my lips.  I opened obediently and he gently drizzled the broth down my throat, a mother bird feeding her young.  To my surprise, the broth soothed my throat and I managed a weak smile.  My own mother had never fed me broth or tended to me like this.  Dove, though, she would have done the exact same thing.  “Are you sure?” Garment asked, ladling up another spoon full of broth.  “There might be some other choices.”

I shook my head back and forth, still determined to make it to the Asters.

Garment sighed, his minty breath floating toward me. Normally it didn’t bother me, but it smelled as if a mint factory had exploded, and I gagged visibly.  He moved back a bit, sensing what was wrong.  He continued, “You could go north.  I hear there is a band of Exiles there.”

Suddenly I was colder than I had ever been in my life.  I yanked the covers up to my chin, answering as firmly as I could. “N…no,” I stuttered.  “A…asters.”

“I see.”  Garment patted my knee, and I tried not to pull away from the terrible pain his gentle touch caused.  He continued feeding me the broth, meticulously fitting the spoon into my mouth.  I doubted if he even spilled a drop.  With the last of the broth gone, he spoke. “Rest up little butterfly.  When you feel better, we shall turn you into a Rebel Fighter.  It’s the only way.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about.  I was pregnant.  How could I be a Rebel Fighter?

As if reading my mind, he answered, placing the spoon in the bowl with a tiny plunk, which beat on my eardrums like an explosion.  “Oh, you will learn, little one.”  He paused for a moment. “If you are going to the Asters, you will have to learn.”  He sighed deeply, his thin chest heaving inward. “You will learn.  Or you will die.”

I was burning up again, so at least my teeth had quit chattering. ‘I’ll learn,” I stammered with as much determination as I could muster at the moment.   My stomach threatened to spew out its contents as a windy hot front rocketed over my entire body again.  My flesh was on fire.

I miserably rolled myself into a ball on the couch-bed, staring mutely at the black wall and wondered what kind of mess I had gotten myself into.

Chapter 12

Injection

I slept fitfully, the fever taking over my body, a cruel tyrant with clawed hands that refused to let me go.  I battled between hot and cold flashes, shivering and burning.  The night drug by wickedly, holding me its prisoner.  I wanted to lash out at it, but I was so weak all I could do was lie in my sweat soaked pajamas trying to get comfortable.  It was an impossible task. 

There was no judging night from day in the dark little room, and I had just drifted off to sleep when Blush appeared, shaking me gently, my body rumbling violently against her touch.

“Time for your next pill.”  I opened my eyes groggily, trying to sit up but unable to even do that.  She examined me, but I just stared at her groggily. “Oh shit,” she cursed as she held her hand to my forehead. “The fever is worse.”  She scurried out the door and I fell back onto the couch.  By then it felt like I was floating above myself, like I was two different Rains.  I had never ached so badly in my life, and if possible, my arm, my entire body burned more than the day before. Just when I would fantasize about someone throwing a bucket of cold water all over me, I would get the chills and I would shiver uncontrollably again.  I was on a Ferris wheel of hot and cold, unable to get off.

My muddled thoughts were interrupted by a voice I had never heard before.  “There she is.”

I looked up, squinting my eyes in the dim light.  A wisp of a man stood before me, thin and bald.  Still, I could make out muscle definition beneath the tight, pure white vinyl jumpsuit he wore. 

“Who are you?” I weakly asked.  But I already knew.  It had to be the doctor that Blush spoke of.  At any rate, I could tell he was a doctor by what he wore.

I was in one of my hot states, having kicked my blankets off.  Sweat was forming on my forehead, little drops that spilled down my cheeks occasionally.  I didn’t even bother to wipe them off anymore.  My pajamas were soaked as if I had placed them in a bucket of water.

“Panther,” he answered.  “Or, you can call me Pan.  Most people do.”  He studied me as if I were one of Garment’s outfits he came to purchase.

“You’ve got an infection.”

I didn’t answer, my eyelids drooping downward.  I was beyond caring.

He placed something on my forehead, a small silver disc.  In a couple of minutes he whistled.

“It’s a doozie.  105.” His voice reminded me of Number 74’s, and I wanted to smile at him because of it, but I couldn’t even manage that.

He reached down and fiddled around with something, then pulled out an injection device, like they used when they gave us the Shot.

Even in my delirious state, I figured it out.  He was giving me the Shot.  He was killing my baby.

“No!” I screamed, bolting upright.  But he was too strong for me.  He shoved me back down and just like when the guards had given me truth serum against my will, Panther injected me with the Shot. 

My heart seized. He had just killed my baby.  Orion’s baby.  The baby I had fought so hard to keep, the baby I had sacrificed everything for.  At first disappointment shot through me, so fast and hard that I was squeezed into a tight ball, my lungs clenched into fists that couldn’t begin to breathe.  Then fear took over.  I was scared then, more frightened than I had ever been in my life.  I wasn’t just afraid for the baby but for myself.  What was this horrible man going to do to me?  Then, pure hate checked into my motel of feelings.  I despised the diminutive man standing before me so much that I vowed to kill him once I was better.  A life for a life. 

My baby would die within the day.  I would just expel it out of my body and then what?  I’d probably have to go to Arbitration, face the jury and receive the sentence I deserved for all of the mandates I had broken.  Like before.  With Orion.

After all I had been through, all I had done to keep my baby alive, this horrible man just casually strolled in and killed it.  I screamed again, but it hurt my throat so badly and I was so tired that I just curled myself against the wall and willed him away, ignored him as much as possible while my poor heart bled itself to death.

I cried though, racking, painful sobs that caused my entire body to spasm until I eventually passed out, darkness taking over me, an angry smothering cloud. 

I dreamed of the man.  I dreamed of Panther. 

I hated him with a burning passion and snuck up on him, lit him on fire.  I watched in glee as his body burned up in flames, his flesh falling off in hairless strips.  I cackled, witchlike, enjoying every moment.

He was burning.

Burning.

Flames engulfed him, but then I was on fire next.  I was next to the man, my entire body in flames, licking at me with the most intense heat I had ever felt.  Desperately, I tried to stick my skin back to the skeleton of my body. It was futile, never adhering but falling away in clumps.  I could hear the man laughing, an evil roar each time my skin sizzled and fell to the floor. Despair clamped around my throat, my neck, my stomach. But it was nothing compared to the flames that were so painful that I wanted to die, just to make it end.

Then I saw my baby burn, a perfect little boy.  He burst into flames before me, his soft skin no match for the orange and red flames that fried him like a sausage at a bonfire. Screaming, I tried to put the fire out, to save him.  But I wasn’t fast enough, and all I could hear was his crying, desperate, painful screams for me to save him.  But I was still on fire and I couldn’t move, the smell of burning flesh so thick in my nostrils I began to throw up, violently spewing liquid from my stomach.  It didn’t even squelch the incessant flames.    

My eyes popped open.

Three people surrounded me.  I blinked as their faces slowly came into focus.

One was Blush, and oddly, she was the only person I wanted to see, the only one who would understand how I felt.  My eyes slowly moved to Garment, and even though I didn’t really want to see him, I didn’t care if he was around.  But the other man…

It was Panther, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, lunging myself at him as I roared. “You.  Killed.  My.  Baby.”

I was yelling at him, crying, flailing my arms wildly at him, an animal unleashed from its cage.

His arms gripped mine, pushing me back down.  I felt other hands on me then, Blush’s and Garment’s holding my shoulders.  In a flash, Panther injected me again.

“Noooo…..” I shouted at him right before everything turned black.