When It Rains

by Joel Shaw

  Sheila groaned with relief. She was free. Her energy reserves were emptied. She remained where she was. A smile spread across her face as Redwing cleaned it for her.

  “I never thought I would be happy to see you, boy,” she cooed, “Good boy. You saved my sorry ass.”

  She looked at Amber, exhausted and suffering, lying several feet away. She felt real affection for her. Providence had brought them together. She hoped it wouldn’t part them. What would she have done without her?

  All she could say was, “Get this fucking collar off of me...oh...and thanks,” she smiled, then passed out. Amber lay still for several minutes, recovering to some degree before removing the collar from Sheila’s neck and covering her with the hulk’s jacket.

  She nuzzled Redwing fondly. “You’re a good boy, Redwing, I wish I had a treat for you.” The mention of food caused her stomach to growl. “I’m starving, aren’t you?” Redwing wagged wildly. “I thought so.”

  She looked at the broken monster of a human laying in the rubble. A reminder that she was now, partly or wholly, responsible for the deaths of three human-beings. What was she doing? How many more would there be? She put the thought out of her mind. She checked on Sheila before leaving to search for food and water...and clothes. She hadn’t gone more than thirty feet before noticing a two-wheeler parked behind a nearby storage container. She knew who it belonged to and was happy to see that it was a Brammo, much like the one she had lost. She tried to move it but it was larger and much heavier than the one given to her by Jordan. She checked the contents of the saddle bags and found several protein bars and a half-full canteen. After she consumed exactly half of the rations, she continued to explore her surroundings until she entered the dome covering Quarry Two. The water was an open invitation. She dove in for a well-deserved bath before returning to wake Sheila.

  Sheila stirred from her short slumber after she heard Redwing bark at her from nearby. Amber was sitting with him.

  “You two look refreshed. Did you find a tub?”

  Amber laughed, then grimaced from the pain.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Sheila got up quickly and moved closer to Amber.

  “I think my ribs are broken,” Amber said. She went on to tell Sheila about her brief encounter with the hulk and her short flight into the swamp.

  “She threw me away like a piece of rotten meat. Lucky for me, I landed on a bunch of stuff floating in the water.”

  “Did you notice anything odd about her?” Sheila asked. She knew Amber had lived most of her life in relative isolation somewhere in East Texas. It was time for a little sex education.

  “Yes. I couldn’t figure out if it was a female or male.” She didn’t expect an explanation.

  “Both,” Sheila laughed. “Wicked Alice, that’s what she called her self, used to be Wicked Mike until she had surgery and hormone treatment in order to look like a woman. That’s the way it is, you know. It’s hard to find happiness in this world. Whatever it takes, you know. Wicked Mike was happiest as Wicked Alice. “

  “I know you’re kidding. Who would do that?

  “You ever hear of a transsexual?”

  “No.” Amber had no carnal knowledge whatever.

  “It’s like when you’re one way on the outside and feel the opposite on the inside. She-he, He-she...whatever. So Wicked Alice, here, was a guy trying to look like a girl...” She crawled to where Wicked Alice sprawled and grabbed her crotch. “Thought so,” was all she said...”we were getting along really well for a spell...pity.”

  Amber blushed, but didn’t comment. She had heard enough about sex for one day. Too much.

  “Why did he...she kidnap us...and try to kill me?”

  “She was holding me as bait to attract Jordan. There’s a bounty on him. She said he was on the FBI’s most wanted list. Something about being a whistleblower. Apparently my brother has been up to some mischief. She said she’s been after him for years. She was going to use the reward money to get rid of her junk...get an upgrade...finish the job.”

  “What kind of junk?” Amber asked innocently.

  “A guys junk...you know...his dick, his cock...penis? Ever heard of it? Yeah? Well he was going to have his cock...ahh...modified.”

  Amber’s pecan skin glowed in the early sunlight. “What?...Oh...OH...ouch.” She was disturbed by the mental image. “Don’t tell me anything else about that. OK?”

  The look in Amber’s eyes belied her curiosity. She had never seen a penis. What did they look like? She would made a note to ask some other time. At the moment there were more urgent things to attend to.

  “We have to find the others. I’m going to get my clothes. I’ll be right back. Eat those protein bars, they’re really good. Complements of Alice.”

  She returned a few minutes later carrying her damp, smelly clothes at arms length.

  “I couldn’t...I just couldn’t put them on. I’m going to wash them in the quarry over there,” Amber pointed to Quarry Two, “it’s really clean.”

  “The hell you are. You aren’t going to dip those clothes...” Without another word Sheila snatched the stiff, stinking clothes from Amber and tossed them into the garbage pit. “We’ll find you some other clothes. If there is potable water over there, it’s our duty to protect it from contamination.”

  “What?” Amber was mystified by the sudden change in her anything-goes companion. She may have a conscience after all.

  “We don’t fuck it up, you know? Don’t throw shit in it.” Sheila scowled at Amber.

  “It’s a little late for that,” Amber said, “I swam in it...and there’s a bunch of floating toys in it. I think they’ve been using it as a swimming pool for a long time.”

  “That’s not good. They must have some water filter’s around here or they wouldn’t be using it as a swimming pool. Water filter’s are precious too.” She winked at Amber. Sheila had her mind on the spoils of the water war.

  Amber didn’t take the rebuke well. She scowled at Sheila.

  Sheila could tell that Amber needed further clarification. “Don’t you realize how precious water is?”

  “Well, sure I do. My daddy died for it.”

  “OK, think about our situation. There’s a portable water bottling plant in the warehouse, right?

  Amber nodded. “If you say so.”

  “We have a train and we have water. I have the assembly instructions for the bottling plant. I’m thinking about bottling some of this Minnesota water and taking it back to Kansas, I’m worried about Shania,” her eyes glistened while her mind raced irrationally, “I miss her. I’m taking as much water as I can carry and head back. As soon as we eliminate the rest of the Swans, that is. This ain’t over yet.”

  “How? How will you get back?” Amber was suddenly distraught at the mention of a parting of ways. Sheila was her friend. How could she leave now?

  “On the train, girl. What’d you think I was gonna do? Walk?”

  “We have wicked Alice’s Brammo, girlfriend.” Amber laughed sadly, cushioning her ribs with both hands. She hadn’t expected to hear Sheila talk about leaving so soon after their arrival. Saint Cloud was as good a town as any. Better than the one she left. She wanted to get to know Leland and Harold and all the others. She wanted a home. She wanted Sheila to stay.

  “Why don’t you stay here? We could help Faye find her kids. We could live in one of the abandoned houses. Take our pick...”

  “Hold on honey. I came here to settle a score, nothing more. If you want to play house in this town, that’s up to you. I have a life to live. I have to places to go...things to do. Right now, we have to find my brother and the rest of our little raiding party.”

  “I’m cold,” Amber said, shivering uncontrollably. “I need some clothes.”

  Sheila gave Amber a quick visual exam. She noticed that the multiple thistle scratches on Amber’s body were festering, her ribcage was significantly bruised and her feet were bleeding from the sharp granite stones.

  “Come
here, sit,” Sheila said, “I’m going to wrap your ribs so you can breathe a little easier, then we’ll find you some clothes and a first-aid kit. We have to clean all those scratches. It looks like they’re infected.”

  Amber sighed. “I need some sleep, too.”

  “You and me both. Tell you what, lets head back to Faye’s. She has some first-aid stuff and we can get our gear, change clothes and get some rest. The Swans camp can wait. How does that sound to you?”

  “Sounds, go...go..good, but hurry. I feel like I’m going to p...p..pass out.”

  Sheila grabbed a weathered scrap of tarp from a pile of debris and wrapped it around Amber and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get going. Where did you see the two-wheeler?”

  Amber pointed, “O..o..over the...ther...there behind that...that container,” then slumped to the ground.

  Sheila dragged her to her feet, she noticed Amber’s lips and fingers were turning blue. She realized that Amber’s condition was worsening by the minute. She raced to the container and found the black Brammo. A large, leather jacket was draped over the saddle bags. She draped the jacket over her shoulders while she examined the Brammo’s controls. Fortunately the controls were labeled. She twisted the Power knob and felt the cycle shudder as power was transferred to the wheels. She twisted the right-hand grip cautiously and the Brammo rolled forward.

  “Sweet...” was all she could say. She rolled to where Amber lay in the fetal position and scooped her up and set her forward on the saddle. She straddled the cycle and wrapped zipped both of them inside the quadruple-size leather jacket.

  “Hang on...here we go.”

  “W...w...where is Redwing?” Amber stammered.

  “We can’t carry him. He’s on his own. He’ll find us, don’t worry.”

  “N...no. D...don’t...”

  Sheila ignored the protests and maneuvered through the debris field, heading for the tallest buildings on the horizon, hoping that she would recognize Faye’s neighborhood once they got closer to the city center. She watched Redwing in her rear-view mirror. He held his tail at half-mast and static.

  #

  Harold was exuberantly pumping the pedals of his makeshift generator that powered his small collection of obsolete twelve volt electronic devices including a short-wave radio.

  After a half hour of spinning the ammeter connected to his bank of repurposed, rechargeable medical equipment batteries was reading a strong six amps. He turned on the radio, Donna, the computer generated voice, brought a smile to his weary face.

  “... transmitting on a frequency of 162.4.

  Today: Clear. Chance of precipitation thirty percent. Wind west northwest 15 kilometers per hour. High forty-five celsius. Tonight eleven. Thirty percent chance of precipitation. Partly cloudy. Wind gusting northwest 5 kilometers per hour becoming west 15 kilometers per hour near midnight. Low 10...”

  He listened to the loop several times to be absolutely certain that he was hearing correctly. Donna mentioned a thirty-percent chance of rain. Was it true? He waited, there it was again...thirty percent chance of rain...and it was moving Southeast. He turned off the radio and powered up the seven-inch NOAA monitor. He could clearly see the low-pressure system entering Manitoba tracking toward Winnipeg. It was up to the jet stream now. If it maintained its current track the front could cross the Minnesota border in two days...maybe sooner.

  Unabated laughter erupted deep from within Harold’s core. For the first time in years, he felt a real sense of relief. His pre-occupation with the weather was validated. He would carry the message of hope with him to Faye’s and share it with everyone.

  The thought of ‘everyone’ put a halt to his celebration. He realized that he had compromised his role as a father and as a leader by way of his obsessive/compulsive behavior in concert with his poor physical condition. They simply had to forgive him, and would do so willingly as soon as they understood that he had been right all along.

  He leapt from his chair, plucked the barometer off the wall and hopped on his bicycle and pedaled several yards before realizing that the unexpected friction was caused not by his weary legs but a flat rear tire. He dismounted and let the bike drop. Having neither the energy nor the will to trek to town he reluctantly returned to his bunk and collapsed into his dream.

  #

  CHAPTER 32

  Faye decided to leave the door open. Come what may, she was determined to get some sleep. If something urgent came up while she was sleeping, it or they would just have to wait. She was going to by God get some sleep. She coaxed her legs into taking the last few steps to her bedroom where she locked the door, grabbed a down comforter and fell on top of her quilt allowing the comforter to do just that, like a marshmallow on toast, she melted into REM.

  #

  Faye was first to rise on the morrow. She unlocked the metal shutters and swung them aside allowing the brilliant sunlight to illuminate her cluttered bedroom. She fussed about, tidying up for an hour or so before dressing. Then, with great reluctance, she descended the stairway, steeling herself against the expected onslaught of early-morning chatter from her unexpected house-guests. She hesitated...what if there were no house guests? Then she remembered how careless she had been, leaving the door open overnight. What if...she picked up the pace, worried now that she may have missed something or, worse yet, someone may have broken into...she hurried down the remaining flight of stairs.

  Her anxiety was for naught. She walked through the dead-still dining room, stepping over anonymous bodies bundled inside sleeping bags and blankets. She did a quick body count probing each bag with her hands in order to identify the occupants...Milton, Leland, Jerry and Harold over there... She heard a ruckus in the kitchen and quickly made her way through the swinging doors. Sheila and Amber were huddled near the wood-burning oven, a cup of water on the iron griddle was steaming.

  “You girls having tea?” She approached the two women and was startled when she noticed that Amber’s lips were a pale blue.”

  “What’s the matter with her,” she demanded of Sheila, “is she injured?”

  “She’s cold, real cold.” Sheila said, “she did some unexpected swimming.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Faye wasn’t in the mood for puzzles.

  “I mean she got tossed in a stinking pond by a big fuckin’ lesbian, OK.”

  “OK. My goodness, there’s no need for hostility. I asked a simple question.” Faye retrieved a thermometer from a nearby cabinet and poked it under Amber’s tongue. She counted silently, pulling the thermometer away, she raised it into the light.

  “Ninety degrees...oh my god, she’s hypothermic, Sheila. Has she been drinking any warm fluids since your return?

  Sheila shook her head, negative, and abandoned her bad attitude. If Faye was worried, maybe she should be worried too. She realized that Amber meant more to her than she had been willing to admit.

  “This is serious, Sheila, she could die very soon if we don’t elevate her core temperature. Grab some of those large kettles in the pantry. We need to heat enough water for a bath.”

  “A bath? Are you kidding me?”

  “No kidding. Get moving. You’ll get water out of the kitchen faucet in a second. Faye dashed down the stairs and unlocked the basement door. She ran the length of the cellar, stopping long enough to rotate the lever of a three-quarter inch ball valve, then moved on to a wooden handle lashed to the wall. She freed the handle and let it drop, allowing a black avalanche of anthracite to fill the bin below the chute.

  “What’s that?” Sheila asked as Faye reappeared with a five gallon bucket loaded with black glistening rocks.

  “Coal.” She shoveled several scoops into the oven’s fire chamber and opened the dampers all the way.

  “Let’s get some water.” She slammed one of the large kettles into the dish sink and twisted the valve. Water gushed into the pan.

  Sheila’s suspicions were aroused. “I thought you said you didn’t have enough water for a shower. How
is it that you suddenly have plenty of water?”

  “It’s my emergency supply. This is an emergency, so please stop asking me questions and help your friend. Find her some dry, clean clothes and bring them to me. Then, you can haul the sitting tub from my room down here. It’s copper and it’s heavy but I think you can handle it. Please don’t drop it.”

  “I can handle it, don’t you worry.” Sheila was happy to have something to do. She seldom felt inadequate, but this was one of those moments. She hustled on command and eventually they had Amber stripped, cleaned and immersed in a tub of one-hundred-twenty degree water.

  Faye watched Sheila watching Amber. The concern was genuine. The nodding of the head was fatigue.

  “I’ll take care of her. You go get some rest, honey.”

  Honey? Sheila couldn’t recall ever being called honey. Honey. Sweet just like me, she smiled at the thought. She also knew that it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  She smiled weakly at Faye. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Please wake me if her condition changes for the worse. Everything else can wait.” With that she retreated to the dining room and spread out her bedroll under the banquet table in the dining room, as far from the stinking males as possible. She stripped down to her underwear and slipped inside her sleeping bag, positioning her pistol within easy reach, she closed her eyes and slept.