Pipe Dreams

by Destiny Allison

  Something about him called her forth, challenging her to be worthy of his respect. She could not shrink in the brilliance of his light. As they had bantered and talked, she found herself thawing. The frozen edges of her heart were dripping and the dull fog of fear and dread was clearing from the mountains and meadows in her mind. Like the first shoot of green in the cold, raw mud of spring, she was awakening from a long and lonely sleep.

  The scratching stopped. Michael placed his book on the table and reached for the crutches Jeremy no longer needed. Swinging her legs to the floor, Vanessa stood to offer assistance, but Michael waved her off. He did not like his movement restricted and did not appreciate that she bore witness to his strife.

  “I’m going to find out what’s going on,” she said, standing and stretching.

  “Wait,” he said. She twisted her head around to look at him, swinging her hair so it fell over her shoulder. “I’ll come with you,” he finished. She smiled. When he grinned in response, the warmth she felt was like stepping into a steaming bath.

  In the infirmary, the savage suffered beyond anything anyone could have inflicted upon him. Mariah had tried to keep him clean, but his violent jerking made it difficult. He reeked of diarrhea, urine, and stale sweat. His red-rimmed eyes were unfocused and he was much skinnier than when they had first brought him to the basement. In the fluorescent light, his body glistened. It had been more than five days and his withdrawal symptoms had not abated. Mariah thought he might die.

  Jeremy’s frustration was blatant as he stood next to the bed, tightening his fists. Across from him, Mariah squeezed drops of water from a wet rag into the savage’s open mouth. The man’s tongue waved wildly, probing the air for more.

  Turning her eyes away from the hideous sight, Vanessa fixated on Jeremy’s flushed face. He shivered and snapped his jaw open and shut a few times before rolling his head in a wide circle. Mariah noticed his discomfort. In an instant, she was next to him, putting her palm on his forehead and throat.

  “Jeremy, you’re burning up,” she said. The savage groaned and the scent of fresh feces filled the air. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” She locked her arm through Jeremy’s and led him out of the room. Michael hobbled in pursuit, with Vanessa right behind. Just outside Jeremy’s room, they stopped. Mariah turned to them and shook her head. “Uh uh, you two. That’s as far as you go. Go on back out of here. I’ll come and get you in awhile.”

  Michael nodded and turned to leave. Vanessa followed him, her face covered to avoid catching Jeremy’s germs. Threat of the Blue Flu terrified her. In the Zone, the first signs of fever summoned a black clad, medical recovery team. Any but the most benign infections weren’t tolerated and even the Fallen risked relocation to the Farm if the cameras detected signs of illness. People avoided getting sick at all costs.

  Because of this, Mariah’s behavior was shocking. Why hadn’t she distanced herself instead of touching Jeremy with bare hands? And what about Michael? His face only showed concern. Why wasn’t he afraid? By the time they were back in the library, Vanessa couldn’t keep quiet.

  “Michael, why did Mariah touch him? He’s sick. She said he has a fever. Don’t you know what that could mean?”

  “What?” His expression was blank. Then, understanding, he shook his head. “Oh. It didn’t dawn on me, you bein’ from the Zone and all. People get sick all the time, Vanessa, and so far no one’s died from it. Yeah, we worry about the Blue Flu, but we figure if it’s gonna come, there ain’t anything we can do about it anyway, so we might as well take care of our own. We don’t eat birds, but beyond that, well…” Michael shrugged.

  It made sense. If the Blue Flu did get into the city, its effects would be immediate and beyond anyone’s ability to control. The administrators had done everything possible to mitigate the threat and, if their efforts failed, the situation was hopeless. Sheepishly glancing at the silky man next to her, she covered her embarrassment with a smile.

  “Yeah, we all worried about it for a long time. Now, we worry more about bacteria. Infections are about the most dangerous thing we’ve got to deal with because antibiotics aren’t comin’ our way anytime soon,” Michael explained.

  Vanessa was pondering this when Mariah burst into the library, searching frantically for a book. She muttered to herself, reciting a list of symptoms, while she scanned titles. “Jaw spasm, aches, high fever, sweats, difficulty swallowing. Damn it, where is it?” she cried before dropping to her knees to examine the lower shelves.

  When she found what she was looking for, she snatched the book and scoured its index. Flipping the pages, she trailed her fingers down the small print.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit!” she hissed.

  “What you got, Mariah?” Michael asked. She whirled around, fear pinching her face.

  “It’s not good, Michael. If it’s what I think it is, we’re in serious trouble.” She carried the book to him. He brought it close and read the section she had indicated. His brow knit with worry as he questioned her.

  “Really? I’ve never heard of anybody gettin’ that,” he said.

  “That’s because everybody used to get vaccinated. You’re supposed to get a shot every five to ten years, but it’s been six since the rebellion. Jeremy doesn’t think he’s had a shot since he was a kid. I worried about it when he stepped on that nail, but I couldn’t do anything besides wash and disinfect it.

  The problem with Tetanus is that the spores get inside and spread bacteria into the bloodstream. You can’t stop it without antibiotics. It’s excruciatingly painful and can be deadly. There’s a one in four chance he’ll die, Michael, and I can’t do anything about it.”

  “Could it be anything else? I mean, Tetanus is really rare right? Maybe it just looks like Tetanus.”

  Mariah shook her head. “I don’t think so. The other diseases with similar symptoms are even less likely and, even if it were one of them, they’re just as bad. He needs antibiotics, Michael, and he needs them fast.”

  “Damn, Mariah. This can’t be happening. Isn’t there somethin’ you can do?”

  “No. There’s nothing. I could try to debride the wound, but that’s surgical and could just make it worse.”

  Michael’s face, usually an apathetic mask, was raw and open as he stared at the floor. He sat very still, as if his lack of movement would slow time.

  “How long? How long have we got?”

  “I don’t know. It differs case by case, but it won’t happen right away and, Michael, I’m not certain. Even if it is Tetanus, only 25% die. Those are good odds. The infection will hurt him, but it might not kill him. We have to keep positive.”

  “Mariah, he’s my brother. He’s all I’ve got.”

  “I know, Michael. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Did I ever tell you about the time he saved my ass?”

  “Tell me again.”

  “I’d like to hear, too,” Vanessa said. Michael half-smiled, half-frowned.

  “We were kids and neither of us fit in. You know, him all gangly and geeky and me, well, let’s just say I was intense. They used to razz us, the big kids. Anyway, I was walkin’ home one day and three of them surrounded me. They were doin’ all the shit they usually did, shovin’ me back and forth between them. Jeremy saw and he picked up a rock. That scrawny son of a bitch threw the damn thing as hard as he could. It hit one of them on the ass.” Michael laughed, shaking his head.

  “What happened?” Vanessa asked.

  “They took off after him. Now you know Jeremy doesn’t give a shit about what people think. Never did. He started runnin’ alright, but he was screamin’ something fierce. You’d have thought the world was ending. Next thing you know, he’s up a fire escape and into Mrs. Johnson’s window. They’re right behind him, but they didn’t know Mrs. Johnson like he did. She came out her front door with a rollin’ pin in one hand and fryin’ pan in the other. Funniest thing I ever saw was those boys runnin’ away from her.” He paused, grinning. The
n he froze and the smile vanished.

  “Mariah, he can’t die.”

  “The Farm has antibiotics,” Vanessa blurted. “I’ve seen them on the hospital supply inventory. We have to get him there. They’ll treat him and then…”

  Mariah clapped her hands. “Yes. They do. Michael, we have to…”

  “Have to what? Bring him there and hope they’ll bring him back to us all well and shit? Haven’t you been payin’ attention? Either of you ever know anybody that’s come back from the Farm?”

  “Wait a minute, Michael. What if somebody could get there and bring the antibiotics back?” Mariah asked.

  “Maybe if they knew where it was or how to get there. Maybe if they would let us just walk in, take them, and leave. Quit dreamin’, Mariah. Ain’t gonna happen. Think about it. If no one ever comes back, then they’ve gotta have a way to make people stay. I can’t believe everyone who goes there’s got some life threatenin’ thing and they all die. Can you?”

  Hanging her head, Mariah didn’t reply. Her dull defeat wore on Vanessa until she regretted having spoken at all. Suddenly, she brightened. “What about Ramirez? Don’t you think he could get in and out? I mean he’s a cop right? They wouldn’t have any reason to keep him if he was on some sort of official business. He could get in and he probably knows where it is. He would almost have to know. Wouldn’t he?”

  A slow smile spread across Michael’s face. Reaching out, he squeezed her hand before turning to Mariah. “This could work,” he said. “Mariah, can you find him and bring him here? We need to talk to him now.”

  CHAPTER 28

  The first trickle felt like a worm and Ashley brushed it away. When she realized it wasn’t, she came fully awake. The floor of the drain pipe was slick and smelled of old, damp leaves. After a few minutes, the dirt and debris became a slimy ooze of cold mud and a steady stream of water cascaded over her.

  As the runoff escalated, Ashley’s body slid. She dug in, looking for purchase to keep from falling into the dark abyss that lay beyond the pipe’s end. Then, realizing her fall was inevitable, she used her hands to accelerate her motion, hoping she would avoid snagging herself on a sharp edge. With a final whoosh, she was in the air.

  Her bare feet splashed into standing water and sank deep into the muck at the bottom of the retaining tank. Catching her breath, she felt the space around her and strained her head to listen. If the water came in, it had to go out, but the street runoff had become a thundering waterfall and she couldn’t hear anything else.

  Ashley inched her way across the dank, dark tank until her hand touched metal. She reached above her. The pipe that enabled the tank to drain would be well above the floor and she circled the perimeter, using her fingers as a guide.

  The water kept rising. At first no higher than mid-calf, it was now past her thigh. She picked up speed, slogging her way around the circular container and reaching high to find the lip of the pipe that would free her. The water was just below her armpits when a breath of air brushed the tips of her fingers. She tried to jump, but the gooey substance at her feet prohibited anything but the slightest gain.

  After a moment, she realized the water would lift her and she held still, offering a small plea for the rain to continue. If it stopped too soon, she wouldn’t escape. She put her hands over her ears, blocking the furious noise. The water swirled around her shoulders, lapping against her neck.

  When it reached her chin, she lifted her feet and floated. Just a little more, she thought. Then her body bumped against the wall of the tank. Using it for leverage, she explored until she found the bottom lip of the runoff pipe and pulled herself into its narrow opening.

  Water flowed down the smooth surface and Ashley rode it until it dwindled to nothing. Then she wriggled forward, shivering. She was hungry, thirsty, and wet. The gash on her nose stung and her jaw throbbed. The confines of the tight space closed in around her and she moved quickly, anxious to be free of its constraint.

  At an intersection, the pipe opened into a bigger one and she breathed a sigh of relief. The new pipe was slick with slime, but easier to traverse. As she crawled through it, crinkling her nose against the reek of decay, her hand touched the soft body of a dead rat. She stifled a scream and picked up speed.

  The slight decline grew steeper and the air stirred. Finally, the pipe opened into the spillway that ran the length of the city. Crawling to the edge, she couldn’t believe her good fortune. She scanned both directions for signs of people, pulled herself onto the pebbly embankment, and scampered into the sand covered bottom. Gauging her direction, she jogged southeast. Lewis would be looking for her, but he couldn’t search the entire city so Ashley ignored the pain from her numerous wounds and hurried toward home.

  When she could no longer see the lights of the Zone, she climbed out of the spillway and wormed her way through a section of torn fencing and onto a sidewalk. The neighborhood was unfamiliar. Abandoned cars riddled the street and windows on many of the buildings were smashed. Exhausted and aching, she entered an old dry cleaning establishment and explored until she found a bathroom. When water ran from the small tap, she shouted with glee. She drank her fill and relieved herself before continuing to the back where garment racks stood amid a sea of tattered plastic bags and wire hangers.

  Ashley shuffled through the debris, searching for something to wear. In a hamper against the far wall, she found a bundle of chewed shirts that reeked of mice droppings, mold, and years of dirt. As she untangled the clump, chunks of fabric came off in her hands, but she didn’t care. The sweat from her run had dried and goose bumps covered her skin. Fighting the shivers, she shook out the shirts, found one that covered her private parts, and put it on. She shredded another to wrap her bleeding feet and returned to the street.

  She walked most of the night, darting into doorways or under bushes when she heard a noise. A pale moon, peeking beneath a blanket of clouds, guided her. Every step was an agony, but she did not stop. An hour after sunrise, she heard big engines rumbling in the distance.

  “Oh my god! It’s starting,” she cried, breaking into a sprint. Only a mile from the Gate, she knew every back alley. With her heart pounding, and a deep fear propelling her, she navigated the twists and turns of her neighborhood until finally she was home.

  Wasting no time, she bolted into the tunnel and through the basement door, shouting for Jeremy. Her shrill cries roused the sleeping cell members. They surrounded her, staring in horror at her battered face and filthy body. Pushing her way through the group, Mariah wailed, “Oh my god! What did they do to you?” She took Ashley in her arms, but Ashley pushed her away.

  “Mariah, where’s Jeremy? We’ve got to get out of here! We’ve got to get out now!”

  “Slow down, Ashley. What are you talking about?”

  “The purge! They’ve started the purge! Mariah, WHERE IS JEREMY?”

  “He’s in his room, but you can’t…”

  Before Mariah could finish, Ashley barreled through the living room and into the sleeping quarters, skidding to a stop outside Jeremy’s bedroom. Jerking open his privacy curtain, she collapsed on the floor next to his bed.

  “Jeremy, wake up!” she shouted, shaking him. Smelling the sour odor of illness as he rolled toward her, she cried, “Jeremy, what’s wrong? Wake up, damn it! Wake up!”

  He sat up slowly, fumbling with the lamp. In the low light, his glazed eyes, glistening skin, and listless movements horrified her. “Your sick!” she blurted. Jeremy rubbed his eyes and focused.

  “What the… Ashley? Is that you?” he asked.

  “Yes it’s me and you have to get up. There’s going to be a purge! They’re coming now! I heard the trucks. We’ve got to go!”

  Jeremy swung his legs over the side of the bed and massaged his face.

  “Ashley, you’re not making any sense. How did you get here? What the hell happened to your hair?”

  “Jeremy, I need you to listen to me. There’s a purge. He told me, but I didn’t think it w
ould happen so soon. Please, Jeremy, you have to get up!”

  Mariah stepped into the room. Her face was grim as she asked Ashley to start from the beginning and speak slowly so they could understand. Ashley turned, her bright eyes blazing, and grabbed Jeremy’s arm, pulling him to his feet. “There’s no time to explain, Mariah. Don’t you get it? We have to go! We have to go now!”

  CHAPTER 29

  Ramirez had left the basement at dawn. His pistol was tucked beneath a baggy sweatshirt and he carried a pack containing his uniform and a two day supply of food. Paul hefted his own supplies and they made good progress toward the rendezvous.

  The previous night, Ramirez had argued fiercely with Michael and Mariah, finally achieving a weak compromise. He would go after the antibiotics Jeremy needed, but only after exhausting all reasonable efforts to rescue Ashley from the bone people. Mariah had grudgingly agreed that Jeremy could wait a few days and additional delay might eradicate all hope of Ashley’s recovery. Incensed, Michael had argued passionately. Vanessa had ended the debate by reminding them that Ramirez didn’t belong to the cell and was free to do what he wanted. She had been right and her soft voice had carried.

  In the bosom of the cell, the woman had blossomed. Heartened by her fledgling happiness, Ramirez was also dismayed by her growing affection for Michael. Somewhere, in a tiny, locked recess of his heart, he had believed his efforts to save her would spark her romantic interest. That hadn’t happened, and while Ramirez was glad for her, something in him had hardened again.

  He had no such latent feelings for Ashley, but felt responsible for her abduction. If Blondie had proved to be a worthwhile source of information, his decision to wait might have been justified, but the stinking, blubbering wreck of a man had been more burden than help.

  Early morning light sparkled on the wet grass edging the sidewalk. Washed clean in yesterday’s rain, it lifted his spirits as he and Paul hoofed it toward the rendezvous. Ramirez had insisted they leave earlier than necessary because he wanted to be in position well in advance of the other teams.