Rain's Rebellion

by ID Johnson

  A rumble sounded in the leader’s throat. It took Rain a moment to recognize it was a laugh. Something about Mist’s comment was humorous to him? His eyes traced over the four of them, lingering on her and Adam, particularly on the way his arm was around her shoulders, the way she had practically adhered herself to his side.

  “Give us a moment,” the leader said. Mist nodded, and he turned, but not before saying to the scar, “Crit, keep an eye on them.”

  A smile spread across the shifty man’s face, pulling back those lips to reveal even more yellowing teeth. He stepped in front of them, coming closer, pulling the knife with one hand as he slung his rifle around and into position with the other. Whether or not he planned to shoot or stab them if they got out of line remained to be seen. Rain would do neither, though she was surprised the leader hadn’t asked them to drop their weapons. She still had her rifle slung across her back. The group from Dafo was huddled behind Crit, maybe forty feet away, several of them with their backs to the intruders. Only Crit was preventing them from shooting. Was he really that dangerous? It didn’t matter. They meant these people no harm. Maybe they could sense that.

  Rain wasn’t sure if she should stare at Crit or look away. The man was doing his best to frighten them, but a glance at her friends’ faces told her they weren’t intimidated by him. Mist was trained in hand-to-hand combat, just like Rain. Adam and Walt were both taller and stronger than Crit. Maybe they knew they could overpower him if necessary. But none of them could outrun a bullet.

  The discussion was difficult to read. The leader was speaking now, moving his hands as he spoke, but not making wild gestures. Occasionally, someone else would speak, and many of them were nodding. Eyes shot in their direction frequently as the citizens of Dafo determined their fate.

  In less than five minutes, they were back, the leader striding over in front of the others. He dismissed Crit with a wave of his hand. The smaller man snarled as he fell back into line, not putting his knife away, his rifle still at the ready, as if he were capable of shooting and stabbing them at the same time.

  Clearing his throat, the leader spoke. “My friends and I have decided to let you stay one night within the borders of Dafo, and then, we will ensure you are escorted out of our territory first thing in the morning. While we applaud your efforts at freeing the men of Michaelanburg, the Motherhood is a strong force, and we simply do not have the power to defeat them. Our forcefield keeps their drones away, and our passages and tunnels provide places for our people to hide, but whenever they launch a bomb attack or invade, we cannot out fight them. Our weapons are not as plentiful, our numbers not as great.”

  Rain’s eyebrows shot up. It implied that he was saying the Mothers had bombed and invaded Dafo before. How could that be possible? She wished she could see Mist’s eyes so that she could tell if this was news to her friend or if she was aware.

  “We greatly appreciate your kindness,” Mist said, bowing her head. “We will gladly hand over our weapons and packs for safe keeping with one of your associates, but we will, of course, need all of our resources when we leave in the morning.”

  “Yes, yes of course. Bali will take your packs. She is able to be trusted.” He gestured for the woman in the orange shirt to step forward. A shy smile lit her pretty face as she did as she was directed.

  Rain shrugged out of her backpack, wondering how such a small woman could carry four heavy packs. She took Mist’s first and slung it over one shoulder, then Walt’s, hanging it over the other. She held Rain’s and Adam’s by the handles. With a nod at her leader, she headed off back toward the buildings, walking quickly for someone carrying so much weight.

  “Mobe will take your weapons.” The leader waved again, and a man with a shaved head and a much friendlier disposition than Crit came forward to round up their rifles. He waited for Mist to pull her knife out of the pocket of her pants. Rain mentally inventoried her own outfit. She was clean.

  “Very well. I am Dal. I am the elected leader of our lands. We do not have much, but we welcome you. You look weary. Let us take you back to our encampment before the sun goes down so that you may eat, and get some rest before your journey continues in the morning.”

  “And what if the Mothers show up while we are here?” Mist asked, her voice wavering just slightly on the last word, almost unnoticeably to anyone who didn’t know her as well as Rain.

  “Then… we will hand you your weapons back,” Dal said, his jaw set.

  Rain took a deep breath. They had no way of knowing how far behind them the Mothers were without the tablet, but the Mothers were coming. The last thing she would ever want was to unleash their fury on these innocent people.

  The group began to trek back across the open field toward their home. Rain fell in behind them, but when Adam reached for her hand, she gladly intertwined her fingers in his, feeling stronger with him beside her.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Dal led them down concrete walkways between the buildings Rain imagined must’ve been streets at one time. She had a vague understanding of what cars were and how they used to fill the roads, polluting the air with noxious gasses as they took people from one point to another at high speeds, often crashing and killing the occupants. She’d never seen one, but she knew the Mothers had some larger transport vehicles in their fleet. She imagined the military hadn’t used any of them to chase their group down because they’d be impossible to maneuver between the trees, but if they had roads like these, they could get to Dafo easily enough. Were there such roads she was unaware of?

  The leader approached a smaller building positioned right behind one of the towering structures they’d seen from a distance. Up close, the sight was even more pitiful. Large plants covered the outside of the sagging building, smaller ones pushing through cracks in the concrete, making themselves known. Glass was splintered or missing from most of the windows, and tinges of rust covered the edifice in its entirety where the larger wounds had spread their discoloration with the rains.

  Pulling her eyes off of the decay behind her, she took in the smaller building. It wasn’t in nearly as bad shape as its neighbor, but then, it was only five stories tall. Some concrete was missing, and there were vines crawling up the sides, but other than that, it looked substantial, like it wouldn’t cave in on them without a moment’s notice. When Dal gestured for them to follow him inside, Rain didn’t hesitate, not like she would have if he’d been taking her inside of the other building.

  They walked inside a large gap in the concrete Rain thought might be big enough for a car to pass through. Was this a garage of some sort? The floor was marked with faded symbols, and in the distance she could see a ramp leading up. Dal didn’t take them that way, though. Instead, he opened a much smaller door, one used for human purposes, she assumed, and they all headed down a flight of stairs.

  As he walked, Dal gave a brief explanation. “We needed our hiding place to blend in with the rest of the city. If the Mothers showed up and saw that we had made it more difficult to get inside of this particular building, they might guess our location. We do bar the door whenever we are under attack.”

  It was difficult to hear over so many clattering feet on concrete stairs, but she understood what he was saying. They reached another door at the bottom of the stairs. The leader paused with his hand on the knob. “There are many clans in Dafo. Some more welcoming than ours. Some less. Keep that in mind should you ever find yourself in our territory again.”

  Rain couldn’t imagine a single reason in the world why she would ever come back, but Mist nodded her head, so Rain did as well. Dal pulled the door open, revealing a world Rain would’ve never imagined existed.

  She’d been expecting some dark, miserable existence, these people and their families huddled around a fire in the cold, sweltering in the summer heat. Instead, the sights and sounds of hundreds of happy, or at the least contented, people greeted her. It reminded Rain of something she’d read about once--something called a carnival. Bri
ghtly colored tents and fabrics hung from the high ceiling, creating stalls, which she imagined were for privacy. The space wasn’t enormous, but it went on for further than Rain could see through all of the commotion in front of her as people clamored to see the newcomers.

  Dal cleared a path for them. Most of the people stepped aside as he met them, many following alongside the group, eyes wide as they gawked and whispered. The majority of them wore friendly smiles, especially the children. Rain couldn’t help but smile back at them. She hadn’t seen a child since she was one, other than the babies she’d helped with in the incubators for her training. Their little hands reached out to touch her clothing or grasp the ends of her hair. Rain wished she had something to give them, but she’d given all of her belongings to Bali and had nothing in her pack for children anyway, except for maybe a bit of food.

  They seemed to have plenty of that, though. The scent of cooking meat filled her lungs. She saw older people eating out of bowls with spoons as she walked by. They waved from the pillows or chairs they sat on, unable or unwilling to fight the younger crowd. Many of the cubbies had the fabric pulled back so she could see inside the homes, and they were decorated and furnished inside, most with mismatching furniture and paintings with cracked frames tacked up to the back wall, tapestries hanging from the tarps.

  Dal led them toward the back of the building where the crowd thinned out and the ambiance changed. Here, another tarped off area took up nearly three times the space as the others. The colors were muted--dark green, beige, gray, and the front was closed so that only a sliver revealed what was happening within. Rain didn’t need to look inside to know. Enough coughs and moans emanated from within to let her know that this was the sick ward.

  The group moved on to the right, to the area across from the makeshift hospital, but Rain continued to stare, wondering if she might be able to help anyone inside. Adam started walking, following Dal, and she had to turn and follow him.

  Another large secluded area in front of them was their final destination. Dal pulled back a dark purple tarp and gestured for them to follow him inside. Several people were sitting in mismatched chairs and on sofas, apparently carrying on a conversation, which abruptly stopped when Dal entered. A small mob of children began to laugh, running toward him. “Dada!” they all shouted, and he bent down to hug each of them, two boys and three girls who looked to be between the ages of three and eight, kissing them one by one on the tops of their heads, greeting them each by name.

  He then stood to address the others. “We have guests,” he said, as if it were possible for the other five adults sitting there to have overlooked the four strangers behind him. “I have promised them shelter for the night, and then we will escort them out of Dafo tomorrow morning.”

  Immediately, a woman who’d been sitting in an old orange chair on the right of the group stood, the cushion letting go a poof of dust as she did so. “Dal?” Her neck was extended as she looked at him, her lips pursed together, the whites of her eyes evident against her dark skin. She was beautiful, with long braided hair wrapped around her head. Her dark eyes were a caramel color, and she had an air of grace about her, evident with even such a simple movement.

  He walked to her in two quick strides, taking her hands in his. “It is well.” His voice was a whisper, meant to assure her. “We will be safe.”

  “How do you know?” she asked. Rain wanted to take a few steps backward, back through the tarp. The last thing she wanted to do was make Dal’s family, his people, uneasy.

  “They are still a long way off. We are preparing in the towers.”

  “But… what if they bring their warbirds again? We might not be able to withstand another attack.”

  It was then that Rain realized she wasn’t afraid of the small group standing in front of her. It was the Mothers his wife feared. Rain dropped her eyes, wishing there was some way to assure her that they would all be safe, but just her being there put these people in danger--all of them, even the adorable little girl who stood staring up at her, smiling.

  “We will be safe,” Dal said again, as if the proclamation made it so. “Besides, these women have taken on the noble task of freeing the men held captive in Gretchintown, the village nearest our borders. Many men have been released from their bondage. The least we can do is give them shelter for the night so they may rest and then escort them out of Dafo so they can continue their journey to Quebec.”

  “Quebec?” The voice came from a young man who was sitting on the couch between two others. He was tall and thin, but otherwise looked much like Dal. Rain guessed he was in his late teens. “You plan to walk to Quebec?” he asked, a smile splitting his mouth and displaying his bright white teeth.

  “That is our plan,” Mist said, her voice calm and not all defensive, despite the laughter in the question and the burst that followed her response. “We intend to make it there and request assistance in freeing the rest of the men in Michaelanburg.”

  “That will never happen,” he said, covering his face with his hand.

  “Fune, that’s enough.” Dal’s voice meant no nonsense, and the laughter immediately stopped, though Rain didn’t miss the look in the young man’s eyes that said he resented being called out in front of everyone. “Whether or not they make it on their journey is not our concern. Now, my wife Cla will show you to an area where you may set up for the evening. Later, my daughters Ata and Mil will bring you dinner.”

  The two girls, one sitting next to Fune, the other perched on the edge of a small chair next to the couch, nodded their heads. They were both beautiful, like their mother. Ata was probably a year or two younger than Fune, and Mil must’ve been around ten.

  “We don’t want to be any trouble,” Mist assured them.

  “You are our guests. Please do not offend us by refusing our hospitality.” Dal had a hint of a smile behind his eyes, but his meaning was clear.

  “Of course not,” Mist said, bowing her head. “Thank you.”

  “Wait one moment,” Cla said, that leery look still about her as she headed across the room and disappeared into a slit in the tarp. The sound of her bustling around filtered through the makeshift wall. Dal sat down in the chair she’d occupied, and some of his smaller children came to sit on his knees.

  “What’s your name?” the little girl with the bright eyes who’d been staring at Rain the entire time she’d been in her home asked in a sweet voice.

  “My name is Rain,” she said, smiling. “What’s your name?”

  “Lyna,” she replied, grinning as she twisted one finger in her opposite hand. “You’re pretty. I like your hair.”

  “Thank you.” The compliment pulled at Rain’s heartstrings. “I like your hair as well.” Lyna’s hair was long, like her mother’s and braided, but the braids were loose. Bright bows and clips decorated each one.

  Lyna continued to smile up at her but didn’t say anything else. Rain looked over at Adam, and he was smiling at the little girl until he realized Rain was looking at him, and then he turned to her chuckling softly.

  Cla came back with a stack of blankets and pillows in her arms. “Let us help,” Mist said, stepping forward to take some. Walt did the same, lessening her load.

  Cla nodded in thanks. “This way,” she said, stepping between them, headed back out into the building proper. The group followed, Rain giving Lyna a small wave goodbye, wondering if she’d ever see the girl again.

  They followed the woman to the back of the building where there were a few smaller tarped off areas. Back here, the noise from all of the people congregated near the entrance was muffled, the concrete walls creating echoes that twisted the sounds of laughter and conversation into a strange tune. The light didn’t quite reach this back corner, and the scent of damp concrete hit her nose, reminding her of the cellar they’d found in the woods, the launching point of their escape.

  Cla’s voice cut through Rain’s memory. “You can take these two homes,” she said, gesturing at two small tarped off
sections. When she pulled back the front curtain to the first one, it revealed an empty, dark space with no furniture or decorations. “They should do for sleeping, no?”

  “Yes, these will be perfect,” Mist assured the woman. “Thank you.”

  A satisfied smile lit Cla’s cautious countenance. She deposited half of the bedding in the first space and then moved to the second space to set down the rest. “Food will come to you shortly. Please let us know if you have other needs we can meet.” She started to go and then stopped. “Oh, toilets are there.” She pointed back the way they’d come toward the middle of the building. They must’ve passed right by the area she was indicating, but Rain hadn’t noticed. Now, she saw a sign she assumed said “restrooms” or something of that nature, but it was written using the old alphabet, and she couldn’t read it. Besides, she didn’t need to go anyway.

  Mist thanked Cla first, and the rest of them did the same, and then the woman was gone, leaving them alone amidst dozens of people.

  A wave of exhaustion washed over Rain. She didn’t know exactly how many hours it had been since she’d last slept, but it seemed like years. She wasn’t even hungry. She just wanted to lie down. The fact that she didn’t have her weapon was unsettling, but she couldn’t do anything about that. If the Mothers found them that night, it would be up to the people of Dafo to protect them, which wasn’t fair or right, but that was the situation.

  “I guess we’ll take this one, and you guys can have that one?” Mist said, as she and Walt moved toward the second tarped area.

  “Wait--what?” Rain asked. She wasn’t sure when she'd let go of Adam’s hand, but she wasn't holding it anymore. “I thought….”

  Mist gave her a look that said she’d better stop talking, so Rain discontinued her statement, looking at Adam. He shrugged, as if her question may have hurt his feelings. “Not that I….” Rain shook her head. It didn’t matter. Walt and Mist were gone inside of the tarp, and by the sound of things, they didn’t give a damn that the only thing separating them from their friends and a host of strangers was a thin piece of black fabric.