The strange animal is the size of a large turkey, but it’s definitely not a turkey. It has a long, narrow tail with underdeveloped looking wings. Its head is more reptilian shaped, but the beak would definitely be that of a bird’s if it weren’t for the long, sharp teeth.
“What is that?” I ask disgusted.
Martin shrugs his shoulders. “You should know more about that than I do?”
I know he is playing at my vet skills; even so, it’s my turn to shrug. “Sorry, I haven’t done much studying; most of my experience is more practical.”
He scratches his chin, thoughtfully, “I might know somebody who might know.”
I shake my head. “Jeez, mysterious much?”
He chuckles and reaches for the first aid kit for the second time today. “Let’s check your injuries. Again.”
After he cleans my new wounds, which thankfully aren’t deep but sting badly; nevertheless, we make our way toward the small college in town. The dead turkey-thingy and the plant are carefully stowed in the back of the truck. Martin explains he has a friend at the college, who is a semi-retired biology professor. He fills me in that some time ago, the professor and my mom were friends. Martin seems to think if anybody can help us find out what those things in the back are, it’s the professor.
I’m more skeptical about it, though. I think we would be better off taking it to the authorities. But I can already hear the lecture Martin would give me upon hearing my objection. And honestly, remembering how the government and press handled the attack at our school, he probably isn’t that far off. I decide it’s better to keep my mouth shut and let him handle this his way.
The drive takes about an hour. We are both quiet the entire time, letting our thoughts trail this way and that. The turkey-thingy, as we call it imaginatively, is wrapped into an old tarp we found lying in the back of Martin’s truck. This way, it won’t raise any unwanted looks from others as we make our way towards the lab, where Martin says the professor always hangs out.
My legs sting a little, and my arm is not faring much better. I worry about infection and make a mental note to stop at my aunt's to pick up some penicillin on the way home. I know she and Martin aren’t getting along very well since she is my dad’s sister, but that is just too bad for him. He’ll have to suck it up, spending a few minutes with her, or he can wait in the truck. I don’t care either way.
For a second, my mind drifts back to the other vet clinic, which seems a lifetime ago, and the RV. The RV still sits parked in front of my mom’s house. We never heard from anybody. Martin even had Sheriff Donovan contact the sheriff over in that little town, but still, nothing. So it just sits there. I try not to think about the two men we locked up, but Martin said he also told the authorities about them, it’s out of our hands, and I need to shelve it.
Before my mind can go down other roads about the trip, we reach our destination. Walking into a thankfully air-conditioned building has me appreciate modern amenities. I don’t think we ever had a spring this hot before.
We make our way up the stairs to the second floor, where we turn left and then right until finally Martin stops and raps against a door.
An older, black man with closely shaved white hair and thick glasses sticks his head out. A wide smile spreads across his face when he sees me. The smile somewhat subsides when he notices Martin, though, which makes me smirk.
“You are Vivian, right?” He asks.
“Yes, Sir, do I know you?” I retort.
He smiles, exposing the whitest, most perfect teeth I have ever seen. “You probably don’t remember me. Your mom came to visit me a few times when you were little before; she ran off with that yahoo over there.” He points at Martin.
“Nice to see you too,” Martin nods dryly.
The professor ignores him. “You are the spitting image of your mom. She was my favorite student a long time ago when she went back for her masters. Did she tell you that? How is your mom?”
I evade his eyes, and Martin saves me from answering. “She died a few weeks ago,” he says quietly.
The man finally steps out of the room, perfectly dressed in a suit with a white lab coat over it.
“I’m sorry, Martin, I know you loved her very much.” He pats Martin on the shoulder before he turns to me and envelopes me into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry for your loss, too, little one. I know how hard it is to lose a mother. Even though I had mine for a lot longer then you did yours.”
I clear my throat and manage to free myself from his embrace. “Err…thank you, Sir.”
He smiles indulgently at me, and Martin finally introduces him as Professor Ernest Dunn. My mom’s old college professor, who somehow ended up being a mentor and close friend. So much so, she even introduced Martin to him, once the two became an item.
“What can I do for your two?” the professor asks.
“We have some things we would like to show you and get your opinion on if you have time,” Martin explains our reason for being here.
“I have a couple of students in there, but if this is not a state secret or anything, they can help us.”
To my surprise, Martin turns to me for permission. I shrug my shoulders. I don’t care at this point; I just want to know what those things are. The professor ushers us in and introduces a very lanky looking guy named Sven Sorenson and an even lankier girl named Astrid Sorenson.
The professor explains that Sven and Astrid are twins, but even without the clarification, the similarities are hard to miss. Professor Dunn explains that they are exchange students from Sweden who got stranded here when the whole rain thing started.
I haven’t given it much thought, but now that he mentions it, I remember hearing something about a travel taboo. All planes and trains are suspended, and if somebody wants to travel from state to state, they must apply for a special travel visa.
A wave of empathy towards the twins overcomes me. This has to suck for them. I hope they at least have some kind of phone contact with their family and friends.
“So, what do you have for us?” the professor asks, curiously eyeing the plastic bag and tarp.
Martin puts the bag containing the plant on an empty desk first and frees it, carefully avoiding touching it. I give the professor and his two students, who step closer, a rundown on what I saw the plant do earlier.
“Sven, go get a planter and some soil from the greenhouse.” the professor orders. “Astrid, get some gloves.”
After she hands him the gloves and he puts them on, he carefully examines the orange leaves, and for the first time, I notice how thick they are.
“Curious.” The professor exclaims. “I have never seen anything like this. Can we keep it for a while?”
“That’s why we brought it to you. We would appreciate it, though, if you kept us in the loop.” Martin replies.
“Absolutely. What else do you have?”
Martin’s phone beeps with a text, and he steps aside with a frown on his face. I take this as my cue to take over and carefully move the tarp aside so that we can check the turkey thingy out.
Just then, Sven comes back in and almost drops the planter he is carrying. “Oh wow, Professor Dunn, is ….”
The professor raises a hand. “Careful, Sven, let’s not jump to conclusions. Let’s examine it first.”
I narrow my eyes at Sven, willing him to say what he was going to say, but he falls silent.
“We thought it looked like a turkey.”
Astrid laughs at that but stops when the professor glares at her. Whatever they think it might be, it’s obvious the professor is not going to give it away just yet. And my turkey mutation theory didn’t go over so well, so I let it be and concentrate on Martin instead, who rejoins our group. I can tell by the worried expression on his face that he didn’t receive good news.
“What is it?”
Distracted, he stares at the dead bird without really seeing it. “That was sheriff Donovan; I guess two fishing boats have vanished.�
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“What do you mean vanished?” I ask, stunned.
He shrugs his shoulders. “They didn’t come back to the harbor, and nobody can get in contact with them.”
“Well, we have been having problems with cell phones and stuff, so….” I trail off.
When I see his expression, though, I realize he doesn’t seem to believe that this is the issue here.
“Why did the sheriff call you?” I ask cautiously.
“We have been friends for a while.” He answers vaguely, and I wonder what he is not telling me.
The three academics seem busy playing with their new toys and barely glance at us when we take our leave. Back in the truck, I press for more information on the sheriff and the boat, but Martin is closed-mouthed and evades all my efforts of probing him, so with a huff, I finally give up.
After another minute of silence, he pulls out his phone and calls the sheriff back. “Yeah, it’s me again….no, that’s not why I’m calling. Listen, I think we need to put a hunting party together; there is some strange stuff in the woods.”
He gives Donovan a rundown on what happened this morning. After a few minutes, I give up listening, and instead, I close my eyes. I’m suddenly exhausted.
Chapter 17
The next morning, it’s just as sweltering as the last few were. During training, we get soaked in sweat. At four o’clock in the morning, the temperature hovers around ninety degrees, unheard of in our part of the country.
The news announced yesterday that around the ruins of what once was Phoenix, Arizona, the temperatures reached over one hundred-eighteen degrees. And it’s only May.
Blake and I enter the school; it’s our first day back after the suspension. I notice right away the funny looks we receive from the other kids and how they scramble out of our way. They talk to each other as we walk by, and I frown at Blake.
“Do we stink or something?”
Somebody puts his arm around my shoulder, and I twist around to see Ace’s face smiling down on me.
“Nah, you smell just fine little one. They’re just scared of what we can do.”
Without warning, I take his arm from around my shoulder and twist it around behind his back, forcing him down to the floor.
“Ah, what the hell, Viv?” he yelps in pain.
“Call me little one again, and next time, I will dislocate your shoulder.”
“What?” He stumbles as I let go.
Blake snickers and high fives me. “Well, I guess she told you, Gordy.”
Ace gets back up on his feet and makes a show of dusting himself off.
“So, now we know why everybody is giving us a wide berth.”
He grins at me to let me know there are no hard feelings. I don’t really care either way. I had to show him I wasn’t the little one any longer. It reminded me too much of our California trip when everybody thought they could just boss me around. I’m not that person anymore, and the sooner people see and understand that, the better.
Part of me is appalled by what I just did, but another part of me claps me on the shoulder. My notion of guilt is fast forgotten, though when Ace chuckles, there is newfound respect in his smile and not a trace of ill will. It’s then that I realize the guys’ horse around like this all the time. I grin back at him, warming from the inside out, at the thought of becoming one of the guys. Of getting accepted as their equal.
The warm fuzziness doesn’t last long, however. Because soon I notice that our entire group of trainees is ostracized. Even the teachers give us a wide berth. Most kids and adults won’t even make eye contact with us. At first, we are a little amused by it. Maggie and I have first period together, and we joke around, but during second period, when people actually start to move their chairs further away from me, it gets more annoying.
By lunchtime, I’m enraged when even the lunch lady has a hard time putting food on my plate. I’m just about to explode when a hand lands on my shoulder. When I turn, I have to crane my neck to stare into Blake’s blue eyes, smiling down at me.
“Easy there, Rambo, down girl, down.”
I don’t know why, but I start giggling; I guess it’s better than yelling and screaming at people for being stupid. I nod at him and smile; he knows me so well. He could tell that I was on the verge of a major temper tantrum.
At least the lunch lady giving out the drinks smiles at me sweetly. Blake moves his arm from my shoulder to my waist, stirring me towards a large round table by a corner. All the trainees are already seated. I guess even the football jocks were ousted, as I see Ace, Jose, Cory, and Ty among the group. I arch an eyebrow questioningly at them. Jose smiles widely.
“Yeah, sucks, when even your teammates don’t want anything to do with you.”
“This is stupid,” I say, waiting for Blake to pull out a chair for me before I sit down.
After a quick scan around the table, I notice Caren, who is almost in tears, whereas Maggie sports her best bitch face. The one that screams: screw you.
Caren sniffles, “Everybody unfriended me on every social media account.”
“Cool.” Maggie laughs. “Finally, no more bullying could be worse, Caren, come on, chin up.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.” She says, and a tear falls down her cheek.
“Well, you’re gonna have to decide,” I mumble between bites of some chewy mess they call enchiladas. “Us or them.”
“I think at this point; we’re all just stuck together,” Eric mumbles, pushing his plate away, earning a frown from Blake.
“Hey man, nobody is forcing you to stay with us.” Blake looks from Eric to Caren.
“You are free to leave. Maybe you can crawl back to your friends. Maybe if you lick their feet, they’ll let you back in.”
Eric looks up like he is considering this, but Caren shakes her head. “No, I want to be able to defend myself. My dad says this is just the beginning of an invasion. I have a little sister. I need to protect her.”
I shudder. A month ago, this kind of statement would have made Caren the laughingstock of the group, but now it just raises goosebumps on everybody’s arms. The impossible doesn’t seem that impossible anymore.
Eric is just about to say something when a mumbling goes through the entire cafeteria. The source is sheriff Donovan standing in the doorway, talking to Mr. Heffner, who points in our general direction.
A hush goes over the cafeteria, somebody drops a plastic fork, and the noise is like a bomb exploding in the silence. Blake folds his arms behind his head and leans back, appearing for all intense and purposes utterly relaxed.
Despite my heart hammering so hard, I think it’ll burst, I imitate the more relaxed pose. Soon all of us at the table appear like we are just lounging about and not like we are waiting for the sheriff to arrest us.
The Sheriff reaches our table, and Blake asks pleasantly: “Afternoon, is it, James or sheriff Donovan?”
I don’t let my surprise show; I guess Martin and his sons must be closer to the sheriff than I know. Donovan leans back against the empty table behind him; his whole pose is just as relaxed as Blake’s.
“Sheriff today, Blake. How ‘ya doing?”
“Just another day in paradise.” Blake jokes.
“Okay, listen.” He looks from Blake to me. “I know what you guys did here a few days ago, and I know you didn’t deserve to be suspended. Although technically speaking, you guys should be arrested.”
He tries for a stern expression towards us but fails miserably. There is respect in his face for us; I sit up a bit straighter. Finally, somebody on the outside acknowledges what we did. We did save people, after all.
“But, your principal asked me to talk to you guys.” He looks at Ace, who suddenly chokes on his drink. It’s a funny thought that even the principal won’t talk to us.
“I’m assuming you guys are packing.” It’s not a question, but either way, he doesn’t want to know the answer to it. “I need you guys to be responsible with it, understand?” He waits
for our nods. He doesn’t even glance at the others, who I know for a fact carry guns as well.
He stares deep into first Blake’s, then my eyes. “Don’t make me regret this. Under normal circumstances, I would have you arrested, but the way everything is going right now, I’m almost counting on you.” The last part he says so low, even the most outstretched ears in the cafeteria wouldn’t be able to hear it. “Martin and I have been friends for a long time. I heard he is training all of you. So….” He trails off for a second as if lost for words. “Listen to what he teaches you.”
Blake and I nod solemnly at him. In unison, we say our expected, “Yes, Sir.” And he tips his hat to leave the room.
“Wow. What. The. Hell?” Ace holds up his fist for Blake to bump.
He obliges him, but his eyes never leave the sheriff until he rounds a corner and is gone. I take inventory of the room, daring somebody to say anything. When my eyes meet Ryan’s, he smirks, and I raise my eyebrows sarcastically at him. A move I learned from Colin.
For a moment, regret runs through me. I think back to the girl in the boat on the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ ride. I remember how innocent and happy she was. I try to recall the excitement I felt when Ryan’s arm encircled me the first time and the thrill of it, but there is nothing.
We have both irrevocably changed. And I realize I like myself a lot better now. I remember lying in Ryan’s arms, crying. I remember how scared and helpless I was and felt. That girl is gone. I’m a lot stronger and more capable. As if to prove it, I give Ryan the finger, and he shakes his head at me.
Chapter 18
It takes two days before the professor gets back to Martin. He insists we come to him; he says the phones are not safe anymore. Under ordinary circumstances, his words would have elicited laughter from us, but we are beyond normal circumstances at this point, so Martin picks Blake and me up from school, which is still more or less the same.
Most people stare at us as if we are lepers, while a few seem like they are in awe of us. Either way, the result is that outside of our small circle, nobody really talks to us.
The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning Page 16