Rainwalkers

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Rainwalkers Page 17

by Matt Ritter


  “When I was at the school, when the soldiers were preparing the cage, one night I saw—”

  Just then three loud knocks came on the door, and Mary swung around toward the living room.

  Will put out his hand to Zach. “Hold on a minute. Don’t open that window.” He rose and walked to the front door of the apartment and Mary followed him.

  As Will unlocked the deadbolts he said, “That was faster than I thought it’d be.”

  When he pulled the door open, Dick wasn’t standing in the hallway. Instead, it was three armed UP soldiers in light blue uniforms and black gas masks.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Will tried to swing the door closed, but the lead soldier jammed his boot inside. He pushed with all his weight onto the door while it was kicked from the outside. Abandoning it, he ran toward the living room and was tackled from behind. A second soldier was on Will in seconds, and a third was grabbing Mary. Will struggled to roll the soldiers off him but couldn’t move under their weight. Several more soldiers were now in the apartment, one holding Will’s legs.

  The side of his face was pressed into the carpet, and he could see into the kitchen where his gun was no longer on the table. There was no sign of Zach. Mary screamed in pain as her arms were once again forced behind her.

  Will freed an arm and swung it upward just before a soldier’s boot hit his temple. A fan of white light spread out in his vision, then narrowed to a dark tunnel. He went limp as a zip tie came around his wrists. He was kicked again, this time on his side then rolled onto his back.

  “Get the hood,” one of the soldiers said.

  Will was on his back, his zip-tied arms below him, eyes wildly moving side to side. There were too many of them, and he had no hope of escaping. He was grabbed from behind, pulled up into the seated position, and a black cloth bag was slipped over his head. Will heard Mary’s muffled screams as a bag was placed over her head.

  “Weren’t there supposed to be three?”

  “Check the apartment.”

  Will heard a scramble of footsteps and doors opening and closing. Mary had stopped screaming, but he could hear her breathing hard somewhere near him.

  “You’re alright, Mary,” he said.

  Will was hit with something across the upper back.

  “Shut up,” said a soldier.

  Returning to the room, another soldier said, “Nothing. Nobody else here.”

  The building rumbled under the pressure of the rain, as if in the middle of a river.

  “On your feet,” Will was commanded while being lifted to his feet. He grew lightheaded, and white stars stretched out across his dark view of the inside of the black hood.

  “You two take him. I’ll get the woman.”

  Will could make out the lights in the hallway outside Dick’s apartment through the dark material as he was pushed from behind. He was pushed down through the darkness of the stairwell. As they came into the building’s lobby, the air hit him like a fist through the hood. His throat burned instantly, and his face felt numb. He heard Mary let out a brief scream.

  Will heard a soldier ask, “Sir, do they need masks?”

  “Let them burn,” was the beginning of the response, then the rain was too loud for Will to make out any other words.

  The main door to the building was open, and Will felt cold air blowing in and heard the rain roaring outside. He took shallow breaths under his hood, and the air was on fire in his lungs. He heard Mary ask from the other side of the room, “Will, are you still there?”

  “Mary, I’m right here,” he shouted at full volume.

  The soldier standing next to Will hit him on the back of the head. “Shut your mouth,” he said.

  There was the sound of an engine racing outside, screeching tires on wet pavement, then he was being pushed out into the roar. Outside, a soldier yelled at him, “Step up.” Will stumbled onto the floor of some type of vehicle, and the door was slammed behind him.

  Will laid in the darkness, shivering involuntarily, feeling more nauseous with each breath. “Mary, Mary?” he asked, but no answer came, just the muffled sounds of an engine and tires moving on a wet surface, all just above the thunderous sound of pounding rain.

  Will braced himself against the wall as they turned a sharp corner. He tried to lean over to shake the hood off his head, but it wouldn’t move. He felt like he might suffocate as he slid along the wall. Despite the burning, he took deep breaths and tried to calm himself. Survive this, he told himself. Survive this.

  “Mary?” he yelled again, but there was only the hollow sound of his own voice fading below the hum of the engine.

  Will strained to sit upright as the vehicle raced around corners, coming to an abrupt stop. The door opened, and he was pulled back out into the cold, across a dry surface to the inside of another building. Wet boots squeaked on the floor of a long hallway, and Will could see the glow of fluorescent bulbs passing overhead through the black material. The burning began to subside in his throat, and his breaths came more easily.

  “This one here?”

  “Yes, put him in there.”

  He was turned around and patted down before being shoved down onto the concrete floor. The door was closed, and the latch swung home loudly.

  “Hello?” Will asked. Again, no response. Only darkness in the hood.

  The sharp plastic edges of the zip tie cut into his wrist, and his shoulders ached from sitting back on his arms.

  He scooted across the cold concrete floor to the edge of the room, laid back against the wall, and waited for what he knew would come next.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Outside the Valley Administration, a torrential downpour was falling. A powerful and bitter wind from the western vastness of the Pacific propelled the water sideways, and it danced over the top of the tall building and made it shudder. Ben Harrison could feel the building strain and vibrate against the howl and collision of a million sickening drops as he ducked out of Colonel Adams’ office.

  Their conversation, which had taken place in hushed voices, left him feeling hopeful for the first time in what seemed like years. These new feelings of hope came with an undercurrent of doubt. Could he trust the colonel, or was Ben falling into an elaborate trap designed by the Valley Manager to expose him as a traitor? Time would tell. After what had been said that morning, it was too late to turn back.

  He went down two floors in a cold and stinking stairwell. Back in his lab, he watched the upvalley sky through the tall windows. His hunger reminded him that it was almost lunchtime, a time of day when the rain would usually clear, yet there was no sign of a break. The rain came early the previous evening and hadn’t stopped. He couldn’t remember a full day at that time of year without relief from the showers, and he wondered if it may never again stop raining in Salinas City.

  The Valley Manager knocked on the open lab door, startling Ben.

  “Manager,” Ben said, turning from the window, instantly uncomfortable in his presence.

  The Manager stepped into the lab, and Captain Wilson followed, stopping a short distance from the door.

  “Ben, you remember Captain Wilson.”

  “Yes, hello.” Ben nodded to the captain, who stood expressionless.

  “What did you want to show me?” the Manager asked.

  “We may be on to something,” Ben said, wondering why the captain was there. “Sit at that microscope.” While the Manager squared himself up to the microscope, Ben reached around and placed the tiny plate of glass on the stage.

  “Here’s the focus knob,” Ben said, pulling the Manager’s cold hand to the knob.

  “What am I supposed to be seeing?” the Manager asked, looking down into the microscope lenses.

  “Do you see thousands of those dots floating around?”

  “I do.”

  “That’s rainwater collected outside the building last night. All the tiny dots are the bacteria that make the toxin.”

  “Okay. Yes. I can see them
well now,” the Manager said, working the focus knob. “They seem to be vibrating.”

  “Yes. They’re alive, and their numbers are increasing. That’s a higher count of bacteria than we’ve ever seen in that volume of rainwater.”

  “They’re everywhere. So tiny, too.”

  “Tiny, but toxic. For some reason, they’re reproducing more rapidly. I think this increase in numbers explains the increase in toxicity and maybe even the volatilization.”

  “Volatilization?”

  “The fact that people are dying without getting wet. The concentration of bacteria could make that possible.”

  The Valley Manager looked up from the scope. “This isn’t good news. Is this only going to get worse and worse?”

  “Their numbers seem to be on the rise.” Ben looked down at his bench. “But now, watch this.”

  Ben took a pipette and plastic tube from the bench. He pulled a small volume of pink fluid out of the tube into the pipette, then set the tip on the edge of the microscope slide. He carefully squeezed a drop onto the slide.

  “Now look into the scope.” Ben looked over his shoulder at the captain while the Manager looked into the scope. Captain Wilson stared coldly at Ben.

  “What’s happening?” the Manager asked.

  “You tell me,” Ben said.

  “They’ve stopped vibrating. They’re all stopping.”

  Ben involuntarily covered his mouth to block the scent of the Manager’s breath.

  “See how it spreads out across the slide?” Ben asked.

  “I do,” said the Manager, eye pressed against the microscope. “What is it? What did you add?”

  “It’s a solution made from Helen Taft’s blood. This is probably why she and the others can survive the rain.”

  “Does the blood from all the children work?”

  “Yes, but hers seems to be the most effective.”

  “What is it? What’s in the blood?”

  “We’re not sure yet. We have more tests to run.”

  The Valley Manager looked back down at the scope, studied the field of view, then back at Ben. “This is what we’ve been waiting for. Of course, their blood.” He smiled and looked back at Captain Wilson.

  “We’re trying to replicate it now, but we need more time,” Ben said. He stepped away from the Manager and the microscope and said, “I’d like you to wait off on using the children at the border. They’re the key to stopping the rain.”

  The Manager smirked at the recognition of Ben’s motives. He stared at him without speaking for a moment, then shook his head. “We’ll do no such thing. Their mission must be carried out while the rains are still frequent and intense. Captain Wilson will escort them to the border himself.”

  Ben and the Manager both looked at the Captain. He stood like a solid mountain of orange flesh. He eyed Ben closely.

  The Manager continued, “You’ll have to extract as much blood from the children as you can before they’re sent.”

  “And what if they’re caught crossing into San Benician territory?” Ben asked.

  The Manager shrugged. “We will have won at that point.”

  “We shouldn’t be sending these children to the border,” Ben protested, trying to keep his voice calm and not wanting to get emotional in front of the captain. “They are the answer we’ve been waiting for, and I need more time with them.”

  “It’s a good thing that’s not your decision to make. These children are our most powerful weapon, yet you continue to fight against them being used.” The Manager shook his head, disappointed.

  The Manager looked up past Ben at the sky beyond the lab window and said, “It looks like the rain won’t let up today.”

  Ben twisted his head to the window and looked out at the dark sky. “It’s getting worse. This may be the first time that the rain doesn’t break.”

  “Where have you been all morning?” the Manager asked.

  Ben tried to be nonchalant. “I’ve been here in the lab and with the children.” Ben’s eyes darted to Captain Wilson and back to the Manager. Was he being interrogated? What did the Manager know about his conversation with Colonel Adams?

  “Checked on the children, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anything else?”

  Ben shook his head.

  “Have you seen Colonel Adams today?” the Manager asked Ben. He turned to Captain Wilson, who stared at Ben, waiting for his answer.

  The captain took a step toward Ben.

  Ben’s heart raced while he tried to seem calm and casual. He shrugged. “I haven’t seen him.”

  The Manager turned back from Captain Wilson and stared at Ben, then gave him a closed mouth smile. “Hmmm. Okay.”

  Silence sat in the room, finally broken by the Manager’s next comment. “We found the girl’s father.”

  “Taft?” Ben asked, relieved that the subject was changed.

  “Yes. He'd come to Salinas City, all the way from the labor camps, to recover her. He’s a decorated veteran. Served at the border, commanded missions into San Benician territory.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “No, but Colonel Adams does. Apparently knew him well when he was younger. After his service, he disappeared into the fields of Gonzales. Wanted nothing more to do with the UP.”

  “Is he here?”

  “We’re keeping him guarded at a holding facility in the Boranda District.”

  “I’d like to talk to him, find out if he can survive the rain.”

  With a mocking smile, the Manager said, “We could find out.”

  “There’ll be no need for that,” Ben said.

  “He was found in the apartment of one of our people in the city center. He was there with the girl’s teacher from Gonzales.”

  “Where’s the teacher now?”

  “Also being held in the Boranda.”

  “It would help me if she was brought here. Some of the children are quite disturbed,” Ben said. “And I’d like to examine the father. Can he be brought here, or do I need to go to the Boranda?”

  “We can have the father transferred here,” the Manager said, turning around to the captain, who shrugged and nodded in approval.

  “You should know that he’s dangerous,” the Manager continued. “He killed a UP guard during his escape from the labor camp and one of Captain Wilson’s men in Greenfield.”

  “Where is the girl’s mother?” Ben asked.

  “Killed during their escape attempt from the camp.”

  Ben shook his head in disappointment, then asked, “What’s your plan for the father?”

  “We’ll return him to the labor camp if he makes it back alive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s with my brother now,” the Valley Manager said. “Apparently he and Millie served together when they were younger.”

  “The Benician raids?” Ben asked.

  “Yes, the father commanded some of those missions. Millie is waiting for the longvalley repair before he can return the father to the labor camp.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Will Taft.”

  “And the teacher?”

  The Valley Manager turned to Captain Wilson, who said, “Mary McElroy.”

  “It’s important that she’s here with the children. They ask about her repeatedly,” Ben said, looking at both the Manager and the captain. “Her presence would help the children while they’re prepared for the mission.”

  The Manager considered Ben’s argument. “Alright, if you think it’s that important and she won’t disrupt the training, we’ll have her transferred here this afternoon.”

  “I’ll talk to her myself when she arrives,” Ben said, then turning to Captain Wilson said, “Have someone let me know when she gets here.”

  The captain scoffed.

  The Manager turned to the captain. “Do as he says. Have the teacher brought here as soon as possible.”

  The captain nodded and left without a word.

&n
bsp; The Manager watched him leave, then turned to contemplate the lab. A skinny finger worked around the edges of his thumb, grinding on a hangnail. The finger ceased its scratching, and the Manager’s calculating eyes came to rest on Ben. Ben felt like the Manager could sense his betrayal, knew everything he had planned and was just waiting for him to slip up.

  “Captain Wilson is so helpful,” the Manager said almost to himself. “These are dangerous times for our Valley. It’s a good thing we have so many strong and loyal subjects.”

  “I agree.”

  “Do you?” the Manager asked, pretending to be surprised.

  “I do.” Ben returned the Manager’s stare. “For the Valley.”

  The Manager rose from the bench, faced Ben, and repeated, “For the Valley,” then turned and left the lab.

  After he’d gone, Ben pulled the microscope slide from the stage and set it down on the bench top. He lifted the pipette and drew new rainwater into the tube, then held it up to the light. He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and lifted the pipette tip over the skin on the inside of his forearm. He pushed a few drops of rainwater out onto his smooth white skin and winced as the drops landed. The skin burned at first, then quickly numbed. He set the pipette down on the bench and lifted the tube with the pale pink solution of Helen Taft’s blood in it. He carefully pipetted several drips from the tube onto the area of affected skin, then breathed slowly and focused on the feeling of his skin as it changed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  For a long time, Will laid on the cold hard floor. He entered a sort of trance, losing track of time, lying still on his back. The black hood became strangely comforting, the world hidden from his eyes. There was only darkness and the sensation of his own moist breath against the heavy material. After several hours, he couldn’t remember if he’d slept.

  He was thrust back into consciousness by the loud bang of the lock retracting on the outside of the metal door. He quickly came to a seated position. His entire body tensed, bracing himself for impact, but he wasn’t hit or grabbed or drug from the cell.

  The door slammed shut, and there was only silence. Will felt someone else in the room.

 

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