The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning

by Standlee, Marietta

  They overpowered me easily, too easily. My fighting skills against the maniacs are one thing, but against well-trained men is a whole other ball game. It really isn’t like Ryan and Jason were that skilled either. They are just good football players. My determination in upping my training intensifies a hundredfold.

  Despite hating myself for it, I cry myself to sleep. Unsure of what or for whom the tears are for; there are way too many reasons to explore them further. I just let it all out in the hopes that it will alleviate the pain inside of me and eradicate the last of my weaknesses.

  I wake up in Colin’s arms sometime during the night, my face still wet with tears, my lungs raw from screaming.

  “Easy.” he soothes.

  My heart still hammers inside my chest, and remnants of a dream where I’m chased by dinosaurs and maniacs reverberate in my mind. There was blood in my dream too, so much blood. And crying children. Another sob rakes my body. Colin holds me tighter, nods at somebody in the doorway who has also come to check on me. If I weren’t so distraught, I would be embarrassed to show this much weakness, especially to Colin of all people.

  “It’s okay,” he says, stroking my hair. “I’m so sorry; I should have been there sooner.”

  It takes me a moment to realize he is talking about the Ryan and Jason incident, which, strangely enough, is far from my mind. I shake my head against his chest, needing to explain.

  “It’s not that… it’s all those little children.”

  His hand hesitates before stroking my hair again. I feel the need to explain. “Ryan and Jason -it was bad, but that I can handle. I’m alive, but -those little kids?” A fresh flood of tears falls down my cheeks.

  He just holds me and lets me cry it out. It takes me a long time to get it all out of my system. After a while, I look sheepishly up at him, and he smiles down at me.

  “Better?”

  I nod, still unable to speak, mesmerized by his icy blue eyes, so clear, so close. I hold my breath, and for a second, I wonder if he will kiss me. What would it feel like? Do I want him to? He kisses my forehead and laughs, “You’re okay for a girl, squirt.”

  I’m torn between being grateful to him for comforting me or throwing a pillow at him for being not only condescending but using yet another despised nickname. I take a shuddering breath, sure of only one thing, Colin Thornton is the most exasperating man I ever met.

  Chapter 26

  Everything went surprisingly easy and well. The professor wants to meet us at a small office center, instead of at the college. We are almost there, taking backstreets to avoid being seen. Under a tarp in the back of the truck is a tight bound and struggling maniac.

  We split into three groups, led by Colin, Blake, and Martin. It took four hours to find a maniac, but we finally got lucky. Well, Blake’s group did, which I wasn’t part of, Martin decided to keep an eye on me today and made me stay with him in the truck.

  One look in the mirror this morning convinced me to take it easy and play by the rules. Whatever Martin said, I would do. My cheeks are swollen and purple, as is my chin. I still have a small gash on one side of my head, and on top of that, I have a black eye. The scratches on my arms are an angry red, but nothing compared to the rest of my body.

  The side, where my ribs were hurt, is swollen and all shades of blue and purple. I took another pain killer this morning and realize now that it’s about time for another. But even with the pain killers, breathing still hurts, as if somebody is stabbing me in the lungs.

  Martin sent everybody home after we captured the maniac, so it’s just Colin, Martin, Blake, and me in the truck. Well, and the maniac, of course. We drive to the backside of the building, where the professor wanted to meet us. As soon as Martin turns off the engine, the professor, followed by Sven, Astrid, and a man I have never seen before, appear.

  Colin and Blake lift the tarp out of the truck. The tarp is wiggling, and the familiar hissing sounds emanate from inside of it. It reminds me of a caterpillar, the way the tarp is moving back and forth. I almost grin. Almost.

  The person inside the tarp is still a human being, and nothing about this situation is amusing. The torn expression on Martin’s face mirrors my apprehensions. A sad nod of understanding passes between him and me.

  The professor and his entourage reach us. He makes introductions first, and we learn the stranger is Doctor Lyndon Paton, owner of the imaging center we are about to enter. He assures us that due to yesterday’s events, all his personnel stayed home today, which isn’t surprising. School was, of course, canceled, and most businesses remain closed as well.

  Nobody knows for how long, which could potentially lead to a huge problem, but we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get there. Martin assured me this morning that the army or reserves will step in sooner or later, and some businesses like grocery stores, pharmacies, and gas stations, to name a few, will be forced to reopen. Although for how long is still unclear. There aren’t any trucks on the roads lately to refresh supplies.

  Doctor Paton ushers us into his office. He is a handsome man with an easy demeanor; as soon as he opens the doors to his office, a cold, air-conditioned breeze blasts at me. A welcoming reprieve from the sweltering heat. But this is not the only reason why he hurries us inside; we don’t want anybody to see us and call the cops. I’m not sure how illegal it is, what we are doing, but I don’t want to find out either.

  “Okay, here it is. Now, care to explain why you needed one?” Martin asks the second his sons put the struggling bundle down. They wipe the sweat from their foreheads in unison. I think today was the hottest day so far.

  The professor points at Sven. “He is the one who found the nanobot. He should explain.”

  I exhale loudly. I hope this is not going to be another lecture like the other day. Martin elbows me warningly, ordering me to tone it down.

  Sven speaks in his heavily accented voice. “It’s actually more than one, more like a swarm. We,” he indicates his sister and him. “think they are mixed in with the rain. When they come into contact with skin, they get activated and make their way into the brain, most likely through the bloodstream. They probably enter through the mouth, nose, or ears, but we suspect any open cavity will do.”

  Astrid picks up from there. “Once in the brain, we are speculating, they somehow activate the more violent parts of it, while shutting down your inhibitors, like conscience, empathy, and so on, thus creating the killing machine, we have before us.” She dramatically points at the bundle moving around on the floor.

  I narrow my eyes at noticing Colin smile at her, and something inside of me flares up. She is a beautiful girl, and close to Colin’s age. She has long, white-blonde hair, and her pale features are made more interesting by her clear green eyes. She is tall and skinny, with just the right amount of curves in the right places to attract a man; on top of all that, she is incredibly smart. I hate her.

  Not really, though. She seems nice enough from what little time I’ve spent with her. But I definitely don’t like the way Colin is looking at her, and I can’t explain why I care.

  “Let me get this straight, you are saying, just getting wet by the rain will get those nanobots inside of you?” I clarify, proud of myself for not getting too distracted with Colin and his perceived amorous affairs.

  “Yes and no,” Astrid explains. “Not every single drop of rain contains a nanobot; we don’t know what the ratio is. We don’t know yet how many find hosts and how many are washed away.

  “But spending an extended period of time in the rain will definitely increase your chances of getting the bots into your system,” Sven adds.

  “So, they are still out there, even after the rain, if they didn’t find a host?” Martin wonders.

  The professor shakes his head. “No, fortunately, these bots are not able to survive without a host, and probably not without the rain, for longer than a few seconds if they can’t find a host.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring,” I say irritably while
watching Astrid bat her lashes at Colin.

  “So, you want him.” Colin points to the floor where the bound maniac is still struggling. “And take the bots out? See if he survives?”

  “In a way. I spoke to my friend here yesterday,” the professor indicates Doctor Paton. “And he came up with the brilliant idea that computers run with magnets and tend to break if another magnet gets too close.”

  “If the magnet is powerful enough.” Paton interrupts. “So actually, in theory, we are hoping to cure this poor fellow here by putting him through an MRI.”

  I raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Cure him?”

  The professor nods. “That’s our hope, that’s why we wanted a live one. We can’t operate on the brain, but possibly we can destroy the bots and make these people normal again.”

  I notice Colin and Blake exchange a hopeful glance. After all, their mother might still be out there somewhere. I doubt she survived the bombing over California, but you never know.

  “The MRI produces a powerful magnetic field, which we hope will destroy the nanobots.” Doctor Paton explains to no one in particular and the group in general.

  “Well, let’s get started then, boys,” Martin says. He points at the struggling maniac, who is now nearly halfway out of the tarp.

  Even though they muzzled him, and his features are contorted, I see that the maniac is just a boy. Probably about fifteen, a little younger than Blake and me. He seems tall and lanky, geeky even, not at all like a killer. All that’s missing are glasses.

  His right leg sports a massive gash that looks nastily infected. Cuts and bruises are on every non-covered surface, and I suspect the rest of him hasn’t fared much better. His eyes are bloodshot, just like all the other maniacs I have observed.

  Blake takes the boy’s legs, while Colin grabs him underneath the shoulders. The maniac is trashing like… well, a maniac for lack of a better word. He keeps lifting his head and trying to bite Colin, even though he is muzzled. Doctor Paton and Professor Dunn lead the way, leaving us to follow them.

  The boys and their fighting burden enter a smaller room in which the MRI machine is located. The rest of us walk into another room with a huge window that allows us to observe what’s happening in the MRI room.

  Paton directs Colin and Blake to lay the boy on the examination table and helps strap him down with leather belts that are already attached to it. The boy keeps hissing the entire time, he is hurting himself with the straps that bind him, but there’s nothing that can be done about it at this point. Briefly, I wonder what we will do to him if this doesn’t work. It’s not like we can just release him back outside. Neither can we keep him. I decide I’m done thinking about it for now and watch as the doctor, Colin, and Blake exit the MRI room, without closing the door.

  They join us in the viewing room, and Paton works on a laptop attached to countless cords. He starts to tap away on the keyboard, moves the mouse around, and clicks. The examination table, the maniac, is strapped to slowly moves back into the cylindrical-shaped MRI machine.

  After the table and its resident are entirely swallowed up by the machine, the doctor warns us that it will get loud before clicking around with the mouse once more. A soft humming noise begins to vibrate in the other room. Slowly gaining in intensity. A monitor in front of the doctor lets us see the inside of the MRI tube, where we can observe the maniac struggle on the table. I try to get a better look and wonder if it is my imagination or if his struggling is lessening. The noise is becoming a banging, so loud that I want to clap my hands over my ears. It seems as if my whole body is pulsing from it, and I wonder how the kid inside the tube is faring when suddenly he lies still.

  After another minute, the doctor shuts the noise down and looks at Colin and Blake. “You guys want to go check?”

  Colin shrugs and pushes Blake ahead of him towards the other room. Paton presses a button, and the table reappears from inside the small tunnel. I can’t stand still and watch. I rush after the boys into the MRI room just as Colin carefully removes the muzzle from the boy who is struggling again, but as I step closer, I realize he is crying. Hot tears run down his cheeks, and his body convulses with deep, heartbreaking sobs.

  “Oh, my God.” He weeps, not even looking at us.

  Colin and Blake exchange a look. Colin shrugs, and Blake loosens the straps on the gurney holding the boy in place. I can sense more than hear the others enter the room, crowding it.

  Blake takes out his knife and looks at his brother for permission before cutting the ropes binding our prisoner. Instantly, the teen curls into a ball; sobs rack his body. Unintelligible words come from his mouth. Some sound like sorry and oh my God over and over.

  The significance of what we just witnessed is not lost on me. We actually cured a maniac. The Professor and his minions did it. My heart leaps inside my chest, and by the looks on the faces of the others in the room, I’m not the only one impressed.

  Goosebumps rise up and down my arms; this is BIG, HUGE even. We found something to counteract whatever is being done to our species. We’ll need to inform the government and…. A loud cry from the boy interrupts my train of thought.

  I push Blake out of the way on my way to the kid; when I reach him, I carefully put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. His body flinches away from me. But as I slowly stroke his arm, he relaxes somewhat. My mind is reeling; this worked, this actually worked!

  We healed a maniac! We can heal the maniacs. I get dizzy just thinking about it; I’m ecstatic! My joy, however, vanishes when I turn to the boy again; he is hurting in a way no medicine can cure.

  Helplessly, I turn to Colin, who shrugs his shoulder. I notice his hand, which is hovering over the butt of his gun, ready to draw at any second. I bend forward and put my arms awkwardly around the boy, a movement jarring my already hurting ribs, but I clench my teeth and don’t let on how much this hurts me.

  Up close, the stench emanating from him is even worse. It’s not just that he hasn’t washed in days, probably weeks, but it’s also the puss oozing out of his leg; it smells like he is rotting from within. The stench makes me want to barf, but I’m also painfully aware of how pitifully thin the kid is. I can feel his ribs under my fingers, and my heart goes out to him. There is no way I can even begin to imagine what he has been through.

  “Does anybody have some water?” I ask the group.

  Doctor Paton leaves the room and returns shortly after with an armful of ice-cold water bottles a few minutes later. Colin takes one and opens it before handing it to me.

  “Hey, it’s okay. Here, you want some water?” I ask while I keep stroking his arm.

  The boy slowly turns towards me. His eyes are still blood red, like the other maniacs’, but he doesn’t look like he is ready to attack me. His eyes are a striking gold-brown color, almost like honey.

  “I’m Vivian.” I try moving the water bottle in front of him, putting it against his lips like he is an infant who doesn’t know how to drink yet.

  Hesitantly, he takes a sip. His eyes bore into mine, and there is so much pain in them, it makes mine burn. My heart constricts in my chest as a wave of empathy hits me. After a minute, he moves slowly up on his elbows.

  “Ben,” he says, introducing himself.

  His voice sounds hoarse from disuse before he takes another deep sip. I sit down on the narrow gurney and accept his free hand, holding it tight.

  “How are you holding up, Ben?”

  “I’m not going to attack you if that is what you mean.” He keeps up the eye contact, and I swallow. I hear the pain in his voice and tears threatening to come out again.

  Doctor Paton clears his throat. “There is a shower room across the hall with… stuff. And we should probably check on the wound on your leg before we get too carried away talking,”

  Ben’s eyes go to his leg, and another sob rakes through his body. “My mom did that.” he cries.

  The bottle falls from his hands to the floor, where the remaining liquid slowly drains onto t
he tiles. Nobody makes a move to clean or stop it. All of us are mesmerized by the kid, Ben, on the gurney. The wonder of having him return from the maniacs is slowly being replaced by horror and apprehension of what we are about to hear.

  He slaps his hands over his face; his body shakes with sobs once again. “I killed my mom.” he almost screams.

  I’m at a loss. I have no idea what to do here, so I do the only thing I can think of, I fold my body around him, even though it brings agony to my ribs. Ben is hurting so much more. I try to convey comfort to him, but I’m not sure if it’s working. Studying my friends’ expressions, I see the same horror, repulsion, and utter pity that move through me.

  From Ben’s words, I conclude he knew exactly what he was doing when he killed his mom. I don’t understand yet why he did it or why he didn’t stop, but I’m sure of one thing, the maniacs are as un-zombie like as us.

  However, they are forced to attack and kill; it doesn’t seem to inhibit their ability to understand what they are doing.

  My thoughts wander to my dad; I remember the expression on his face when he crawled towards me. I knew he wanted to attack me, but I also saw the torture in his eyes. I feel like crying myself when I think of what he went through in those last minutes of his life.

  The professor clears his throat. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

  Everybody, except Colin, me, and the boy empty out of the room. Colin keeps watch, his hand never far from his Smith and Wesson. I keep my body folded around the kid, whose moans tear through me. After a few minutes, he finally pushes himself up again. There is a weak smile on his face; his eyes beg me to understand.

  “I’m sorry. I have been wanting to cry for so long but couldn’t,” he says between hiccups.

  I take his hand again and squeeze it. “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t really explain it. I’ve wanted to cry for so long… but… my body wouldn’t let me. There was so much anger and hate. Oh, God. The anger.” His body shakes again, but he remains in control. “I don’t know where it came from, but suddenly I was just so angry. My head was hurting and pounding so much. And the baby was crying so loud.”