When It Rains

by Joel Shaw

  'Shania fears being unloved and sees being attractive and very giving as the best way to make herself lovable. She wants to portray an image of being a wonderful, desirous person. This subtype is more people-oriented and, as such, needs a personal connection. This usually manifests itself in a sexual openness, more than any other type. She is easily swayed by compliments, however insincere, which opens her to those people who will use and discard her. Self-esteem is a real issue for her. Shania is willing to compromise herself to get people to like her. However, a sense of entitlement can cause her to become manipulative at times to get the sympathy she desires. She wants to be recognized as indispensable.When she's under pressure, she can become angry and aggressive. When she's relaxed and secure, she gets in touch with her own needs and lets the world take care of her for a while.'

  "Goddamn, he cuts close to the truth, doesn't he? What or who is this guy a psychologist or some damn thing. I don't like it. Get him out of the closet. I have a few questions for our good friend Robert. He's right about a couple of things in his little profile of me...I am get angry and I'm about to become aggressive."

  Sheila was quick to respond. She didn't admit to Shania that she had failed to search Robert; this would be her opportunity to make it right. She ran to the janitor's closet and opened the door. Robert lay slumped over the mop bucket, his head was askew, a puddle of saliva was on the floor below his open mouth. The stench was awful. His bowels and bladder had evacuated at the moment of death. A small piece of gelatin capsule lay in the puddle of saliva.

  "You chicken shit." She felt his pulse; it was absent. She pulled his stiffening body into the hallway ignoring the stench and stains. She began to search him, starting with his shirt pockets and moving down his body. She put everything in a small pile on the tile floor, pen, pencil, small spiral notebook, penknife, and keys. No wallet. No ID. She tore his shirt open and saw a narrow strap that ran over his shoulder and under his right arm. Nestled in the dampness of his right armpit was a passport-sized vinyl pouch. She cut the strap with her knife and pulled the pouch from the dead man's body. She cut the top of the pouch off and pulled out the contents. There were Robert's IDs. One was an NSA ID card , one was a a rare Colony pass that allowed him access to Chicago.

  "This fucker has a home in Chicago," Sheila seethed. Spittle showered from her mouth as she spoke. "What the hell is he doing here?"

  “Another ID.” Sheila handed it to Shania. It was his Federal Water Ration Card. Shania turned it over. Another card was pasted to the back of the ration card.

  "He hasn't used this one in a while," she mumbled as she tried to separate the edges of the cards with the tip of her knife. They popped apart, the card fell face up on the floor at Sheila’s feet. Her face went pale, a cold chill ran through her body. The silhouette of a black swan was printed in on the left side of the card. She jumped to her feet and spit in Robert's dead face then kicked him in the groin as hard as she could. Instinctively, she withdrew her knife and plunged it into the throat of the dead traitor. The already coagulated blood formed a small dark stain on the black swans throat.

  No one reached out to comfort Sheila. They knew there would be no consoling her for some time. They watched as she sobbed uncontrollably. Long heart wrenching, breathtaking sobs brought her to her knees.

  Several of her coworkers had gathered to see what all the commotion was about. Most of them turned away gagging when they saw the gruesome scene up close.

  Shania ignored the mess."Get back. Get back." She commanded. Eventually, she put her arms around Sheila and hugged her tightly. Eventually she escorted her away from the grizzly scene to her room. When she returned, she was all business.

  "Jamie?" she waited for the familiar reply.

  "Jamie? Where is Jamie?"

  "Sheila told him to fix the hole in the wall."

  "What hole? What fucking hole are you talking about?"

  Amber explained how they had gained access to Robert's apartment.

  "Somebody go get him. Right now. The rest of you get your gear together, and be ready to leave. Don't ask any questions, just do it."

  “Don’t...don’t...go outside.” Shania stammered. "Use the...the... tunnel."

  "You hear what I said? Use the tunnel. Don't go outside. Get going." Shania sat, trying to gather her thoughts before formulating any type of plan. There would by a backlash from somewhere once Robert's death was discovered. Whomever sent him to their unit will come looking. Her primary goal was to get her crew out of harms way. They couldn’t stay in town. The had to go...but which way...and how far..? They couldn't stay here.

  "This is bad," she said flipping through the ID cards again and again, “This is really bad.”

  #

  Jamie laughed at the two women as they went exited the apartment through the hole in the wall.

  "Why not use the door?” he yelled after them as they disappeared down the hall.

  He examined the hole, making a mental list of materials he would need to cover the hole. There were plenty of building materials in the basement storeroom. He took a step toward the hole in the wall and changed his mind. “Like I said, girls, just use the door.”

  He walked to the door and turned the deadbolt knob retracting the lock's bolt. As he rotated the knob and pulled the door toward him a microswitch caused a hidden container of Cacodyal to explode. A dense cloud of white cyanide smoke enveloped him. He choked and died on the pile of broken drywall.

  #

  CHAPTER 17 - MAY 8

  Shania sat quietly in Sheila's room scrutinizing the contents of the files taken from Robert's apartment trying to understand the big picture. The large file had to do mostly with the Salina Health Services station. Robert had created a short dossier of all the volunteers at the station. There were spreadsheets for food delivery and water delivery which included dates, times and locations. There were copies of Health Services inventories and copies of scheduled FEMA delivery dates. There were Kansas City Southern railroad schedules and maps.

  She opened the thick folder and whistled low, like wind through a canyon. The first sheet contained a list of Black Swan facilities located in the midwest. Salina, Kansas was number twenty-three on the list.

  "I knew it. Those mother fuckers are right here. I knew it!”

  Sheila stirred on the bed where she napped.

  "What? Are you talking to me?"

  "No baby, never you mind. Go back to sleep now, OK."

  Shania made sure Sheila was sleeping before continuing to read the list. A couple of lines below Salina, Kansas was St. Cloud, MN below that was St. Paul, MN. She grabbed the Kansas City Southern Railroad map off the table. There were pinholes in the map designating cities along the tracks. Twin Cities, Des Moines, Kansas City, Joplin, Shreveport, Dallas, Fort Worth, New Orleans, Galveston, Corpus Christie, Brownsville and across the border into Mexico. Shania knew that these were Secured Colonies, accessible only to those holding a proprietary identification card unique to a particular Colony.

  Narrower dashed lines on the map lead into rural areas such as Salina and St. Cloud. She looked at the map's legend. The dashed lines were labeled Haulage and/or Marketing Agreements. She knew what they were after in Salina; three hundred yards to the south of the warehouse stood sixteen elevators full of imported wheat.

  She again looked at the list of Black Swan facilities. The column headers read: Food, Fuel, Port, DataCom, and Water. Check marks had been made in the columns indicating available assets at the corresponding facilities. If she was reading it right, Salina held food and water, nothing else. She checked the St. Cloud line, only water was checked.

  The next several pages contained summaries of the Swan's facilities and missions, personnel, commanding officers, local population estimates, local law enforcement and a more detailed description of available assets. Salina was all about the wheat which was shipped there for storage before being distributed by FEMA and Health Services to food banks for rationing. The check mark in the wat
er column must have something to do with the Great Plains Aquifer. At that instant she knew why they hadn't been busted for stealing water; the Swans were stealing water, too.

  As she read the dozens of summaries, it became clear that the Swans were stealing more than water. Their network was vast and lucrative, utilizing the railroads to ship black-market food and supplies throughout the Midwest, the Gulf coast and Mexico. The US/Mexico border towns sheltered a virtual who’s who of mercenaries all needing equipment upgrades and ammunition. The Swans were stealing weapons from military warehouses.

  Shania whistled softly as she exhaled. She was looking at evidence. Important, incriminating evidence. She continued reading...

  They establish small, secure compounds in sparsely populated regions, then send patrols into the surrounding towns to analyze all public water supplies.

  Not a bad idea...It sounds like they’re putting together some sort of inventory...not a bad idea. She read on..it appeared as though they stayed well away from The Colonies. That was interesting...so...they don’t have the blessing of Congress...that would make them vigilantes...if I got this right...hmmm.

  They avoided law enforcement...well, that wasn’t so hard,these days. Even if you met a cop, you wouldn’t know it. Everyone is a cop or no one is a cop. Shania wasn’t sure what to believe. She, too, planned on staying well away from The Colonies. The Swans were using the rail system with impunity. That certainly meant that they had deep enough pockets to parlay a deal with someone in the Department of Transportation. They have some heavy hitters on their side. Possibly the One Percent Militia?

  She tallied the number of personnel at all the facilities. Shania whistled again. There was an army of eighteen hundred Black Swans out there. Out there looking for potable water and what else? Shit. There were eighty of them stationed in Salina and she didn’t have to read a report to know that they are controlling the switching yard and have secured the silos.

  She read the St. Cloud spreadsheet, again. Twenty Swans were stationed there under the command of a Major Roland Hanson, controlling an estimated thirty-million gallons of potable water. There was an asterisk penciled in at the end of the sentence. She looked at the footnote: Water bottling facility scheduled for completion Spring 2047.

  She checked the population, again. Approximately three hundred citizens remained in St. Cloud prior to the arrival of the Swans. The next column showed a decrease of two hundred citizens since the Swans had set up camp. What was that all about? No way...did the Swans kill them? She didn’t want to believe that. Scared them off? That was more likely. She suspected that conditions today must be bad in St. Cloud...but at least they had water.

  "That's a start." She said aloud, loud enough to wake Sheila who sat bolt upright, rubbing her eyes.

  Shania attempted to hide the St. Cloud document, then thought again. Sheila needs to know what she’s up against before she declares war on the Black Swans.

  “Huh whad you say about a start? What start? How long have I been sleeping?"

  "You've been out for ten hours, honey. How do you feel?"

  "I feel like killing another Black Swan,” she growled. “That’s how I fucking feel.”

  "Settle down, girlfriend. From what I see here you could dedicate the rest of your life to killing Swans and never get the job done."

  “Actually, that sounds like a really good time,” Sheila sneered, “I see you have been checking out the documents. What did you find?"

  "Oh honey you wouldn't believe what I've found. On second thought. You will believe it. Let me give you the bad news first and tell you straight up that Jamie is dead."

  "Goddamn it!” How? When? Sheila cupped her face in her hands, shaking her head waiting for tears, but they didn’t come. Instead she felt the ember of hatred in her heart burst into flame. It’s war, now.

  Shania spoke slowly, reluctantly. “Robert booby-trapped the door to his apartment. When Jamie opened the door from the inside, some device, we don't know what, exploded killed him. There wasn't any blood...I think it was some type of poison. It appeared as though he died quickly. I mean like ZAP and he was gone. Whatever it was, it was some nasty shit. We buried him last night in the field north of the warehouse. We put a flat stone at the head of his grave. I’ll show you where it is if you like.”

  "I would like that. Thanks...and thanks for watching out for me. I mean that. You’ve done so much for me these past years...really...thanks.”

  “My pleasure, honey. Don’t you worry. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

  “Yeah? How’s Jules doing? And you better not tell me he’s dead.”

  “He’s not. He was awake for a while last night. He wanted to attend Jamie's funeral ceremony, but he was in too much pain. He's missing a lot of skin. Poor kid. He really did a number on his body. He's complaining of headaches, too. I’ll try to find a doctor during our travels.”

  They discussed Robert and the role he played and what the consequences' of his disappearance might be.

  "What did you do with that bastard’s body?"

  "We went to the industrial park near the airport, opened a manhole cover and shoved his body through the hole. He'll keep the rats alive for a while."

  Sheila managed a smile."Perfect."

  They talked about the extent of the Swans influence and possible methods of eliminating them. It was careless conversation; both of them knew they were unable to take on an organized, armed force of any size.

  Finally, they arrived at the topic that they both had been avoiding. Going their separate ways.

  "I'm taking my crew west for now. I want to put some distance between us and this place. Robert's associates will undoubtedly come looking for him when he fails to report. There is no way I'm going put my kids at risk while this town is being tossed by the Swans.” Shania’s voice sounded far away. Tired. “Maybe we’ll go to Canada. I heard that they getting a little rain up there.”

  Sheila was mystified, “Excuse me...exactly how did you hear that?"

  Shania snapped out of her trance. “OH...you’re not going to believe this. Jamie was right about Robert’s phone,” She withdrew it from her pocket. “This is a satellite phone. I turned it on last night and happened to pick up the tail end of a public service announcement regarding the weather. The report mentioned that Northern Saskatchewan is receiving some rain and it looks like the low pressure system could bring some moisture south into North Dakota. That’s what got me to thinking about Canada. Maybe we won’t have to go that far...who know?”

  “What are we going to do with these files?”

  “I’m going to keep them. They will be useful in the future. Now that I’m thinking about it, I should make copies...what do you think?

  “I think we should do it. I’ll round up some volunteers to help...”

  “Whoa...not my kids you don’t. They’re busy packing. We, you and I, will make the copies.”

  “How are we going to make copies? Got any paper or a pen?”

  “Paper? Are you kidding? Who needs paper? I have a scanner...and a few flash drives.”

  “ I have no way of accessing a thumb drive, Shi. I’m not going to carry one of your antique laptops with me. I’m going old school. Give me a pen and some of that paper.” She was pointing to the array of documents on the table. “I’ll use the blank side.”

  “That doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. I swear. Besides, I don’t have a pen and you are not going to write on any of those documents, either.”

  “All right. Forget it. How about this...you take the scanned documents. I’ll take the originals. That work for you?”

  “Yes, but you better take real good care of them. I mean it. The originals are historically significant. I plan on using them as evidence in court.”

  “Ha. That’s a laugh. What court?”

  “The Supreme Court, honey. I’m serious, and you are going to be there with me. You and those documents.”

  “Good luck finding me.” Sheila grinned. />
  “Uh oh. Here it comes...where are you going?”

  “I’m going to Saint Cloud, Minnesota with Amber.”

  “Why?” Shania knew there was an ulterior motive. "I did tell you there are Black Swans stationed in St. Cloud, did I not?"

  "Yeah, you did. You said there are twenty in a town with a population of how many? Three hundred?”

  Shania held up one finger.

  Sheila groaned. “One hundred? So much for plan A. I was hoping we could organize the locals and drive the Swans out of town. But one hundred people...most of them probably starving. It doesn’t sound good... There’s still hope...maybe some of the locals are organized and waiting for a chance to make a move against the Swans, especially a small number of them. I want to hear them scream...watch them bleed.”

  The fire was intensifying, spreading, and Shania backed away.

  “My goodness, Sheila, are you are going on a crusade against that bunch?”

  “Crusade...I like that. It is a Crusade, Shania. Isn't it our responsibility to stop the Black Swans now that we know the truth about them? Are we going to let this outfit continue to kidnap and rape? Not to mention all the other shit they’re getting away with? Fuck that. I’m going after them, and you should come with me.” Her eyes were on fire. “Do it for Jamie.”

  Shania stood up to emphasize her conviction. “Not going to happen. I'm sorry. My kids are not soldiers. I’m not going to put them at risk to satisfy your need for revenge. Furthermore, we have Kansas ration cards and IDs; we have to stay in Kansas. We're going to follow the pipe west, away from the railroads. We'll find a few acres of good Kansas soil and homestead on it, like the old days. We'll lay low and mind our own business for a while. Wait for the rain. My kids are already scared, Sheila. And they don't have the training or the weapons to put up a fight. I don’t either for that matter.”

  Sheila scowled at her friend, “Robert was right.”

  “What do you mean by that, Sheila?”