The part we haven’t figured out is, was Lexy already turned while she was still driving? - Can they drive? Or did she turn at home? How did my mom find the strength to kill her daughter? Is it the same ruthlessness I’m discovering within myself?
I don’t know. All I know is that an immense pain inside my chest stabs me like a searing blade, seeing their bodies like this.
My entire family is gone. Within a couple of days, I have become an orphan and an only child. I’m not even sure who I should grieve first.
Strong arms surround me, and Martin pulls me into a tight embrace. And as my tears flow, it’s as if another part of me flows out as well. All of everything I have ever known is changing, and so am I.
Part II
Bandon
Chapter 12
The days go by and turn into weeks. The news reports are always the same, recounting the fate of yet another city drenched by the rain. And even though people are urged to stay inside, there are always some who don’t. Those people become raging maniacs, as they are now officially called, who attack anybody unlucky enough to run into them.
It seems part of them is still semi-rational. It was discovered they can do certain things in their altered state, like shoot a gun, if it is loaded, or wield any kind of other weapon they can find. They’ll eat if they can find food but seem unable to fix anything or even open a can. Disgusting as it may sound, they even relieve themselves, and it doesn’t matter where they are. If they have to go, they go.
The maniacs won’t attack animals–humans only, and they don’t distinguish between another maniac or a normal person. They always gravitate to where the most action is, which explains why they hacked away at each other on the freeway in Los Angeles while leaving us alone.
On a positive note, the rain only seems to affect humans; no reports of any animals turning have been broadcasted, which gives us some hope.
Once the clouds gather, there isn’t much time left before the first rain starts. Usually, it happens within minutes, which makes it easy for people to get caught in it. It was also discovered that one only has to get wet before the rain’s irreparable effects take hold. After contact, it takes about five hours, give or take, before brains are reduced to a state of utter rage. Nothing has been discovered so far to stop or reverse this, besides the host’s death.
Nobody knows what these people feel or think or even if they do. Basically, after getting caught in the rain, you are better off killing yourself before you end up killing your entire family or anybody else.
Where these clouds and rain originate from is another mystery.
Rumors and theories are abundant, though. The prevalent hypothesis is, of course, aliens. An equal amount of people thinks it to be mother nature, who finally had enough of humans. Right now, this theory is gaining momentum, especially since no animals seem afflicted.
We held a small funeral for my mom and sister and a memorial service for my dad and Cynthia -Colin’s and Blake’s mom. All at the same time. The funeral home we booked was filled with friends and family, and it warmed my heart to see so many people. Even my aunt Corinne was somewhat civil towards Martin, whom she hates. She was my dad’s sister, which explains the animosity.
Martin is heartbroken over my mom’s and Lexy’s death but is trying to hide it from me; I’m not sure how he feels about my dad’s demise or Cynthia’s unknown fate. He is a very close-mouthed person who doesn’t like to talk about his feelings much—something I understand.
During the last couple of years, my parents and the boy’s parents harbored a lot of animosity for each other. But before that, they were friends for over ten years. I like to think the friendship not only meant something but that in the end, they would have all worked it out and forgiven each other.
Given the circumstances, I don’t think either one of them would have minded how we handled things with the funeral. It was a lot easier on us that way for sure. This is not an excuse, but it’s where we stand right now.
Blake and I have spent many a night up since the memorial service, reminiscing about how it used to be and talking about our missing/dead parents. He confided in me that he is torn about his mom. Unsure, despite the memorial service, if he should think of her as dead.
Even though we both witnessed the destruction of Santa Monica and have a pretty good idea of what happened to Anaheim and LA, I understand his hope. I would cling to it too if I could.
My heart bleeds for Blake after he confessed how guilty he feels about leaving California without searching for his mom more thoroughly. There is a lot I could say to that, things like: ‘You didn’t have a choice.’ But I know this is not why Blake confided in me. He doesn’t need these platitudes; deep down, he knows as well as I do that he never stood a chance of finding her. His confession was more about baring his soul and hoping for absolution from himself by doing so.
For now, there is still a working government, and Colin was arrested for desertion. I don’t have the slightest clue where they took him, but I know Martin and Blake are worried.
Martial law is in effect in every town and city to prevent looting, anarchy and to protect people from the occasional maniac who slips through the cracks. Even though the military attempts to fence off the affected towns and cities, there are far too many to keep control. It seems several maniacs always figure out a way to avoid detection. The military is spread too thin, same with the National Guard and local authorities.
Anarchy is a constant threat. Wannabe dictators have already overrun smaller countries. As far as we know, Spain and France are the worst off. According to the news, there has been no contact between government officials of those countries in weeks. What little information trickles in is full of chaos and blood.
Even the Red Cross has given up trying to give aid; anybody sent in is never heard from again. Drones only bring pictures of destruction and mayhem before they are shot down. If it’s not the maniacs killing people, its people killing people –for the sheer fun of it, or to create small powerbases for rising dictators. Italy is on the verge of sharing the same fate, and nobody seems to know anything about Hawaii.
Through the grapevine, I found out that Ryan still hasn’t received a word from his parents since the fateful school trip. There are rumors, of course, there are always rumors nowadays. And if those are to be believed, they paint horrible, vivid pictures of all the islands of Hawaii having been doused by the rain the night we left Santa Monica. The internet and YouTube are the prevalent sources of these rumors. And if they can be trusted, the entire population of the islands is either dead or overrun by maniacs.
People have tried to reach the islands by boat, but no ship has ever made it even close. Any drone feed taken always goes suddenly blank. The same is true for small planes. The government declared it a disaster zone, and the military is patrolling the areas; nobody is allowed to come even close to them.
Ryan, understandably, is devastated. He lives with an aunt, who moved in with him, but he doesn’t seem his sunny self any longer. He tried to smile at me one day but failed miserably. Perhaps he thought we could bond over both of us losing our families, but I’m not really the bonding type anymore, especially not with him.
At dinner, I sit with Martin and Blake. We live in my dad’s old house. Neither one of us wanted to stay at my mom’s and Martin’s place. Everybody was just too aware of what happened in the kitchen. So, after some debate, we settled on my dad’s house. I don’t think he would have minded. He and Martin were best friends before, and even though Martin ran off with my dad’s wife, I like to think he would have forgiven him under the circumstances.
I know Martin and Blake only moved as a favor to me. They didn’t want to leave me by myself. They could have just as easily moved into Cynthia’s house, where Blake had most of his stuff. Come to think of it; Martin would have probably been more uncomfortable over there, though. On the other hand, he would have been living among the belongings of a presumed dead wife whom he left for another
woman, who knows. So, we have a strange little family thing of our own going on.
I fixed spaghetti with meat sauce, and we sit around the table, pretending to eat. Martin seems in good spirits for a change. “I heard from Colin today,” he says as if this isn’t the biggest news we had in a while.
“Is he still being held in prison?” Blake asks with a smirk on his face.
Martin shakes his head. “No, first they demoted him, and then they promoted him because he has the combat experience with the maniacs. The bad news is, they sent him on patrol to Hawaii.”
I shudder. Even though Colin and I butt heads all the time, it doesn’t mean I wish him ill, and Hawaii sounds to me like a warzone.
Martin pushes his chair back. “I was thinking – “
Blake and I put our forks down and give up all pretense of eating as we listen to his dad.
“Things are not looking as if they are getting any better anytime soon. I know you know your way around a gun, Viv.” He looks at me.
Unspoken words hang heavy in the air. He knows about the things I did while trying to get back home. He has attempted numerous times to talk to me about it, which I refuse every single time. Yes, things are getting better, but he is not my father. I’m trying to see the uncle in him again that I used to admire before he and my mom took off, but I’m not there yet. So, I nod and wait for him to continue, keeping my silence up despite the disappointment written all over his face.
“I remember, your mom tried to get you into self-defense training, which you didn’t like.” He looks questioning at me, and I sigh.
“I might be persuaded to change my mind on that,” I say quietly, reminiscing about the maniac who attacked me on the bus in Anaheim and tattoo guy. Both times I wished I had listened to my mom.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He bobs his head up and down, smiling. A little too enthusiastically, since he is still trying to return to my good side.
“I would like to train you and Blake if you guys are willing.” Blake’s affirmative shoutout is more eager than mine, but I’m in.
“Now Blake is a lot more advanced than you are,” I roll my eyes at Blake, for which he gives me a cocky grin.
“But I’ll figure something out.” After a moment’s pause, he asks. “Do you still want to join the Navy next summer, son?”
I could swear I see some hesitation in Martin’s features, asking this question as if he’s afraid of the answer. It’s not hard to deduce that there has been some friction between the two of them on this topic lately. Although, honestly, before all this happened, I also noticed how adults seem to be warier around teenagers as if we were constantly holding a loaded gun, ready to shoot them. So, Martin’s hesitation could go either way.
“I’m not sure, dad. I liked it, but the way things are, the fighting might be on land, not in the water, so I guess I’ll join the Marines.”
Martin nods thoughtfully. Both made it clear previously; they favor the alien theory. I don’t care either way. My parents and sister are dead; nothing will bring them back, so it really doesn’t matter to me. Whoever or whatever is responsible for their death will pay in time.
“I also considered homeschooling you guys. That way, you can get your diploma sooner, and Blake can join whatever military branch he likes, and you can start vet school, Viv.”
We both balk at the idea, even though we understand why he’s suggesting it. News outlets reported several school attacks by maniacs, and it’s utterly surprising that schools haven’t been canceled yet. But in all honesty, reports of maniac attacks are coming from everywhere. Malls, colleges, grocery stores, you name it.
I’m not even sure a nationwide lock-down would stop the wave of violence bearing down on us. All we can do is pretend for as long as possible that things are normal. Because doing otherwise, would just take us into anarchy faster.
Somehow the maniacs manage to escape detection until they can form a mob. Once their numbers are big enough, they attack. They are evolving in their own frightening way, because before they would have rather killed each other than bond with their own. But neither Blake nor I want to give up our only resemblance of normalcy. So, we vote the idea down but agree to the plan of him training us. Besides, it’s only a couple more months before school is out for summer break for good.
Chapter 13
Had I known what I would get myself into, I wouldn’t have done it. Martin is relentless in his training. We are up at three in the morning, running through the woods. Rifles slung over our backs, guns strapped to our waists, and knives pretty much everywhere. We are not only running, but he also has us climb trees, wade through mud, crawl underneath wire he has set up, and the list goes on.
Afterward, we usually practice hand to hand combat training before we go home, take a shower, eat breakfast, and then go to school.
We have to get up so early in the morning instead of doing it after school because the weather has been funky lately. Despite it only being April, temperatures in the early afternoon reach close to a hundred, something we are not used to in the northwest of Oregon.
Martin let us vote on our preference, but all three of us agreed to train in the cooler morning hours.
This goes on for a few weeks, while the rain hits more and more cities, relentlessly. We’ve been lucky so far. The closest it got to us was when my sister got caught in it in Eugene.
So, when we sit in math class and the clouds begin to gather outside, we know we will be in for a long wait. None of us want to chance it to go outside, umbrellas and protective gear be dammed. Of all the places to be locked in, our school is really the last I would have picked.
An announcement is made over the speaker system, but it’s self-explanatory. We are to stay in whatever building we are at, not to go outside, blah, blah, blah. Since the math class is right next to the gym, separated only by an awning protecting the short walkway, our teacher is set on risking a quick sprint before the rain starts. She thinks we will be much more comfortable inside the gym, it offering showers and all. Since the rain usually lasts several hours, sometimes all day or night, I tend to agree with her suggestion and grab my backpack to follow the crowd.
For once, everybody is quiet and hurries along. Sidelong glances are thrown up at the sky, which is dark with the familiar green clouds. Even with everything I know about them, I still think they are beautiful in their own frightening way. Inside the greenish thickness, shimmering lights glide around, changing colors like the Northern lights. It’s beautiful, mesmerizing, and utterly otherworldly.
A car honks, a boy, Brian, jumps out of the line. He ignores the teacher’s protests and runs towards the car. I watch his daring escape and hope they make it home before the rain starts; otherwise, they’ll most likely spend the night in their vehicle. That thought makes me nostalgic. There could be worse ways to spend the night than being trapped inside a car with your mom. A familiar pang of loss runs through me.
Not just over her death, but over the wasted time, the two years in which I hardly spoke to her. Tears form in my eyes. I remember our carnics. Mom would drive Lexy and me to any fast-food place of our choice, and then we would picnic in the car. Hence, carnic. It was one of our favorite times. I shake my head determinedly. I need to focus on something else.
Inside the gym, I find my best friend, Maggie. We hug and find a spot together against the wall.
“Your dream team is over there.” She points at what’s left of our football team.
I notice Ryan looking at me, and Jason waves. They had tryouts and added new boys to the football team, but the old crowd sticks together for the most part, not letting anybody else in.
Ace makes his way over. “Hey ladies, mind if I sit with you?”
We shake our heads and indicate the empty space around us. A few minutes later, Jose and Cory join us.
“How is Angie?” I ask.
“She is still not talking. The social worker was at my house again yesterday, but there is no way of finding her fami
ly if she won’t talk.”
Jose’s parents are trying to adopt Angie. After hearing the story of our escape, we were famous for a little while. Reporters swarmed us, and some of us were on various news and entertainment shows. That was before more rain destroyed more cities and finally put a stop to many things, including entertainment TV.
Now all they do is repeat old movies or just show No Signal plastered across the screen. But a few weeks ago, when everything was still in high gear, it put a lot of pressure on social services, and they went out of their way to let the Salinas family keep Angie in their home during the adoption process. Nothing like a little public pressure.
“I think it’s awesome what you guys are doing for her,” Maggie says, batting her eyelashes.
I hide a grin. She had a thing for Jose since forever, and he seems utterly oblivious to it. Ryan saunters over, his arms loaded with water bottles.
“Hey, guys. Want some water? Miss Camuto opened the vending machines. Get it before it’s gone.”
We hold out our hands, and he throws them at us with a grin. It’s the first time I have seen him happy since we were on the ride at the Amusement Park. While I reach for mine, he holds on to it mischievously.
“Gonna cost ya.” he smiles.
“What?” I ask.
“A kiss.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I stare at him, dumbfounded. After all, we’ve been through, does he really think we can pick up where we left off before everything changed? Does he honestly believe I could forget that he actually did call the cops on me once we were home?
They didn’t arrest me, but the whole incident is under investigation, as Sheriff Donovan told me. Martin hired a lawyer, just in case. I get up and shoulder him aside with so much force; he stumbles back. How I could have ever had a crush on him is beyond me.
“Jerk.” I curse before making my way to the locker rooms, where I sit down on a bench. It doesn’t take very long for Maggie to come and find me.
The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning Page 13