Rain's Rebellion

by ID Johnson

  “I guess we’ll have to slow down eventually. We can’t just walk forever.” Her feet were definitely beginning to hurt, despite the cushioning devices she had in her military boots that were designed to keep soldiers from having foot fatigue. She hadn’t ever walked this much in her entire life.

  “I am guessing Mist has a plan for that. She seems to have a plan for everything.” His voice was soft so that Mist wouldn’t hear him talking about her, not that anything he said wasn’t spoken out of appreciation. He smiled when he said it.

  “Yeah. I had no idea she was such a… beast,” Rain said, smiling. “I know she’s passionate about plants and things like that, but I never would’ve imagined she was capable of everything I’ve seen her do today.” Her voice was a whisper, but again, there was no animosity. She was in awe of her best friend and what she’d accomplished. If it hadn’t been for Mist’s quick thinking, Adam and Walt would definitely be dead, and she would probably be sitting in the woods somewhere, rocking back and forth, waiting for the Mothers to end her. It was still surreal to think that her friend had actually killed at least three people, but she’d done what she had to do in the moment, and they all had Mist to thank for the fact that they’d made it this far.

  “I think I got lucky to bump into the guy she was trying so hard to rescue,” he said, a crooked smile on his handsome face. “I have a feeling she was looking for him, not me.”

  Rain shook her head. “No, she was looking for you, too.”

  “Why would she be?” he asked with a shrug. “Just because I was organizing this group from the inside? Unless she had orders to get me out of there.”

  “While I’ll admit I have no idea what Mist’s orders are, even if no one else had told her to get you out, she would have. She helped organize the hand-off of the password between you and I, you know?”

  “Because she was your roommate, and that was the only way I could get information from my inside contact to you. Once you stopped coming to see me.”

  “Stopped coming to see you?” Rain turned to look at him. His blue eyes looked stormy. She’d had no idea it had offended him that she’d stopped choosing him. It wasn’t as if they were friends—or more, like Walt and Mist. “You make it sound like we were supposed to have lunch together and I cancelled.”

  Adam shrugged. “I guess… I looked forward to seeing you, Rain. I told you--you’re one of the nice ones. Anyway, I’m pretty sure Mist didn’t know me from… well, Adam--isn’t that the saying? Until she saw me with Walt.”

  “She knew you,” Rain assured him. “She’s my best friend, Adam. I told her about our conversation. She knew that it was important to me for you to get out.”

  He was quiet for a long moment before he asked, “Why is that?”

  Her head whipped around. “What do you mean? You’re surprised that I wanted you to get to see the sky? To get to taste water out of something other than a shower head? That I’d want you to be free?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess… you didn’t really seem too excited to see me the last time you were there. Or many of the times before that, so I guess I just assumed you were indifferent.”

  His words stung deeper than she wanted to acknowledge, but that wasn’t his fault. Everything he was saying made perfect sense from his perspective, anyway. It was impossible for her to put into words what she felt when she thought of Adam. He was someone she’d been with intimately in the most un-intimate way imaginable. More than that, though, they’d shared the sort of conversation she’d only had with a handful of other people in her life. And it wasn’t just because she was trapped in a small room with him for several minutes. It was because he was interesting. He was intelligent, kind, the sort of person she wanted to be around. He was definitely more than a number, more than a Dick.

  “I was really excited to see you this time,” Rain said, finally turning to face him, hoping he believed her.

  “Not as excited as I was to see you,” he said, that crooked smile back as the storm in his eyes dissipated.

  Rain laughed, the temptation to reach over and take his hand, the way Mist had Walt’s, so pervasive, it made her palm itch. But she didn’t do it. Hopefully, there’d be time for that later, once they left Michaelanburg far behind them.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Night had fallen, and the Mothers hadn’t made the progress White was hoping for. Nothing was making sense. It was as if the rebels knew exactly where their forces were located and were somehow able to avoid them before they arrived.

  They had the leader in a cell beneath the hospital ward. Mother White had put one of her best leaders on the interrogation, trying to get as much out of this Lightning as she could, but so far, the reports hadn’t been useful. She would’ve gone down there and demanded some information herself, but every time she turned around, there was another fire to put out.

  Now that night had fallen, she was hopeful there would be some literal fires that would help her troops in the field find the rebels and destroy them. They had strict orders to shoot first and ask questions later. That was the order as far as any of the escapees were concerned except for the two that were out there somewhere she thought might be able to provide some answers to her. The only ones the Mothers weren’t to mow down as soon as they saw them were the red-haired girl, Rain, and 24C. His picture was sent out to every agent in the field. While many of the men from IW looked similar, his sandy-blond hair, distinctive blue eyes, and extra few inches of height made him stand out.

  “Mother White, President Violet is on her way from the airstrip. She should be here in a few minutes.”

  It was Peach again. Damn if that woman didn’t drive her insane. She was like an annoying fly that just kept buzzing around, no matter how many times White waved her away. With a deep breath, she asked, “Where is she traveling to, Peach?”

  She cleared her voice. “Here, Mother White.”

  Muttering a curse word under her breath, White decided not to say more. She knew that. She wanted to know if Peach had arranged a room for her. “Thank you. Peach. Just escort her to command central, and I’ll be there shortly.”

  “You don’t want to greet her, Mother White?”

  White began to walk before the question popped out of Peach’s mouth. “I said I will be there shortly.”

  The clank of her boot heels echoed off of the hall as she headed to the stairwell. White had known Violet since they were children in the nursery together in Capital City. They were elite, even then, destined for the higher echelons of society. The house they’d grown up in, Rainbow House, was one where every woman was expected to rise to their fullest potential or face the Bridge. Unlike these distant towns where everything was butterfly kisses and kitten snuggles, women learned the truth of the nation quickly enough when they grew up in the capital. There were no ridiculous stories about how the Bridge led to a reboot, another chance at perfection. Everyone knew you’d better perform, or else Michaelanburg would no longer need you, and anyone who wasn’t a necessity could be ended without the charade of traveling down a magical pathway to a better life.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, she made it to the bottom of the second flight in a few seconds, thinking about how secluded the citizens of Gretchintown were, and therefore, how she’d thought this was the last place that needed to be monitored for rebellion. Some of the other cities, ones closer to the borders, were impossible to shelter. Women there had to be taught patriotism above everything else. There were no mythological women from the past who had overcome the oppression of men and their mighty fists who could possibly inspire the women to fight to protect their way of life so much as empowerment and a nice stipend for joining the military.

  As she rounded the corner, White heard words that sounded like the lyrics to a patriotic song to her--or a dare. “You will never get me to talk!” That had to be Lightning, and the desperation in the young woman’s voice made White think Mother Jaguar was close to finding a breaking point. It seemed as if Whi
te’s timing was perfect, despite the alarm going off in her info tab that let her know President Violet had entered the building.

  The cells contained several women, many of them bleeding from the lips or nose where they’d been punched, and a few of the Dicks from IW who hadn’t been shot or weren’t running through the woods now. She imagined their free counterparts skipping along, taking far too much time to stare at the sky. They’d have to catch up to a bunch of animals who’d never been out of their cages before, wouldn’t they? As it was, she was shocked so many had gotten away. In this case, fear of being captured must’ve forced them on. Eventually, that adrenaline would run out, and then surely the military would be able to round them up.

  Lightning’s eyes were swollen to slivers, blood covered her Communications uniform, which was a blue version of the same uniforms Medics wore in white, much different than her military brown that was designed to take a bullet if she were struck anywhere but the neck or head. Not that a defensive uniform would’ve done anything to protect the girl now as she sat there across from Jaguar, trying to keep her cool when it was clear by the trembling in her hands and the way her leg was shaking under the table that she was about to fall apart.

  Jaguar stepped away from the rebel who was strapped to a chair in the middle of the room, a few other Military Mothers standing nearby. “Anything?” White asked, folding her arms.

  “We’re close,” Jaguar said. “She hasn’t given us much. Only that there were several women helping her. She claims no one had all of the information, that it was parceled between everyone so that no one could give everything away.”

  “You believe her?”

  “I do,” Jaguar said. She was about a decade older than White, her dark hair sprinkled with gray, especially around the temples. “Mother Opal is in the process of rebooting all of the computers after this one did a full wipe on all of them, including the backup videos.” She hooked her thumb at Lightning. “If there was information handed off during any of the IW sessions, we should be able to detect it. We can also search all of the dialogue between the women and the Dicks to see how much of it was caught.”

  White nodded. There were thousands of cameras in this building. Every conversation should’ve been captured by one camera or another, and they could search the dialogue for keywords. Even if Lightning was under the impression she had shut down all of the cameras in the IW rooms and elsewhere, there were high-level security cameras she wouldn’t be knowledgeable about. Those cameras would also have recordings that would be useful. While Lightning was very good at screwing up their technology and messing with their systems, she couldn’t have completely disabled everything the way she thought she had.

  Her info tab chirped again. A sigh escaped her pursed lips as White pulled it out. “President Violet is asking for you to report to your office immediately, Mother White,” Peach had texted. With a growl of disgust, she said she’d be there directly and shoved the tablet into a pocket in her uniform.

  “Jaguar, go check on the progress of those recordings.” Mulling over her next move, she surveyed the others in the room.

  “Yes, Mother White.” Jaguar gave the sign of respect, one hand to her heart and then a slicing motion across her chest, and then walked out the door.

  “The rest of you go, too,” she insisted, clearing out the room of all the Military Mothers, leaving behind only the captives in the cells and Lightning strapped to the chair. The door closed with a bang behind the last woman, the echo resounding around the concrete space. A window would allow the others to see what she was doing if they cared to watch. A camera in the corner would collect everything for posterity's sake. She knew her actions needed to be decisive if she were to keep control of a situation that was spiraling out of control, despite the fact that Violet had sent her here to keep a handle on everything.

  “Lightning, you’ve grown close to the other women in Communications, haven’t you?” she asked, stepping over in front of the chair, her hands folded behind her back.

  The woman said nothing, only glared at her through her slitted eyes. She didn’t need to answer. White knew enough to understand the situation.

  “Some of these women probably had nothing to do with the rebellion and were just here today, in the wrong place in a time when you decided to attempt to make history. Is that right?”

  “Go to hell. I’m not telling you anything,” Lightning said, spit mixed with blood shooting out of her mouth as she spoke.

  “I think you will, if you know what’s good for you. I’m not sure what questions Jaguar has been asking you, but I want the names of every woman you coordinated with, the roles they played, where they were headed, and which men in IW were working with you. I have a short list already. You’d better tell me what I already know and more, or else, your casualty list is about to get a lot longer.”

  Her jaw in the air, the blonde spat, “I’m not afraid of you!”

  White studied her for a moment, noted how her eye twitched slightly, how her blood pressure rate increased, visual through the vein in her neck, and the sweat that began to dot her forehead.

  Without another word to the young woman, she stepped over to the closest cell and punched in her access code, grabbing the first woman in blue she could reach and yanking her out, letting the door slam locked behind her.

  Pulling her across the room by her curly, dark hair, she noted the woman already had blood dripping from her ear, a splatter of red on her uniform that implied someone might’ve gotten shot right next to her during the fray.

  With her hand twisted in that luscious hair, White pulled her revolver from its holster and pushed the nozzle to the girl’s head. A quick glance at the woman let White know she’d gotten lucky. There was a reaction from Lightning. Mentally flipping back through the information she’d gathered earlier in the day, she remembered the woman she was holding was also from Weather House. She was in the same year as Lightning, and there was a good chance the two of them were in several classes together. If Lightning’s reaction was any indication, they were probably friends.

  “Hurricane? Right?” White asked as the girl squinted her eyes and began to cry.

  “Yes, Mother,” she said between sobs. Lightning might’ve been prepared to lay down her life for the cause, but clearly Hurricane was not.

  “Lightning, do you know this woman? Do you know Hurricane?”

  “Go to hell.” This time, there wasn’t nearly as much fire in the words.

  White chuckled. “One of us is about to. But it’s not going to be me. Tell me names and locations, Lightning. Right now. Everything you know.” She pressed the gun to the girl’s temple, pulling her hair so tightly, she was a full inch taller than she would’ve otherwise been.

  “Oh, is that what the Motherhood is about now? Killing innocent women because another one won’t talk?”

  “You’re saying Hurricane here is innocent?” White asked. “Tell me who isn’t, Lightning. Tell me, or she dies.”

  “You wouldn’t dare! How could you--”

  The sharp ping of the revolver going off brought shrieks from the women in the cells. Lightning bucked in her seat. White didn’t even flinch as blood squirted across her face. Dropping Hurricane’s dead weight to the floor, she didn’t bother to wipe the drops of red dripping from her cheeks.

  Instead, White took two strides closer to Lightning, the smell of fresh urine letting her know her demonstration had had an effect. The odor wasn’t just coming from the corpse. “I want names. Now.”

  Lightning swallowed hard as the sound of screaming from the cells morphed into soft weeping. Her eyes flickered over to the spot where Hurricane’s discarded body lie bleeding all over the concrete floor, a properly placed drain collecting it and sending it down into the sewage system where all of this filth belonged.

  The girl sucked in a deep breath, her bottom lip quivering. She opened her mouth and a list of names began to pour out, followed by a litany of plans it might’ve taken anyone else weeks
to procure. When she was done, White knew exactly who she was looking for, how they had escaped, and most importantly, where they were headed. With this information, she’d have everything she needed to find them.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Here is just as good a place to stop for the night as any, I guess,” Mist said whirling around to look at them. They’d come to a small clearing in the woods. By Rain’s estimate, they’d probably walked another fifteen miles since they came out of the tunnel, which would put them about twenty miles away from Gretchintown. Unless the Mothers found where the tunnel came out and employed some sort of tracking device to chase them down, they should be all right for a few hours.

  “Do you think they have hounds looking for us?” Walt asked as Mist set her backpack down on the ground and unzipped it.

  “I don’t know, but they’d have to find where the tunnel let out in order for those to be helpful,” Mist reminded them. She pulled out what appeared to be a small popup tent, one like the type Rain had camped in when they were children and had to learn basic survival skills.

  “Let’s say they do. How long would it take dogs to find our location?” Adam asked her as Mist set up the tent.

  “About half as long as it took us to get here,” she admitted. “I have a few more tricks up my sleeve.” She patted him on the shoulder and walked away, yanking something out of her pocket as she came.

  It was a tube of some sort, something Rain didn’t think she’d ever seen before. She cracked open the tube and tossed it back the way they came.

  “What is it?” Walt asked her.

  “Scent screener. It’ll mask any human smell within a ten mile radius.” Mist seemed satisfied with her work and walked back over to the small tent.