The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning

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The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning Page 31

by Standlee, Marietta


  “Your arm.” Blake points. He rolls up my sleeve and frowns. “That’s pretty deep; you’re gonna need stitches. Better go see the doc.”

  “Just wrap something around for now. The doc is probably busy.” I say, flinching from the nasty wound.

  He rips some of his shirt off and wraps it around the cut. It stings and hurts; I bite my teeth to keep from crying out. I notice Colin moving towards us, and the last thing I need is to give him more leverage against me.

  “She alright?” he asks Blake, pointing at me.

  “She’ll need some stitches.” Blake shrugs.

  “She is right here,” I complain.

  “Go see the doc,” Colin advises.

  “I’m fine.” I insist. “I’ll wait ‘til he is done with everyone else.” I point at his and the professor’s RV, where a small line is forming.

  “Your funeral.” Colin grins and slaps me on the other shoulder. “Let’s go turn that power on.”

  I check my magazine while following him. I have only one bullet left, so I exchange the mag for a full one before slamming it home, contemplating how I feel about killing the maniacs.

  Part of me understands that this isn’t about choice, but another part of me acknowledges that the maniacs’ choices were also taken away from them. So, I shelve it for now, like so many other things before, and concentrate on our mission. Choices or not, they attacked us, and we had to defend ourselves. I make a pact with myself, if we are attacked like this, I’ll kill them, no matter what, but whenever I’ll get a chance, I’ll try to save them.

  The boys find the power switches, but no electricity comes on. The pumps still won’t work. After a short hunt, we are lucky and find a working generator, though. Colin puts Michael on generator watch. The kid will ensure that it keeps working and that it has enough gas to run.

  To my utter delight, we discover working showers, and every member of our caravan gets to take a turn. While all the cars and spare canisters are getting filled up, some of the team members clean out the store and load anything usable into Brigham’s truck -which is slowly becoming the community property carrier.

  Martin even finds the gas station’s outlets for the black and gray tanks to be unloaded into, allowing the RVs and campers to unburden their filth before filling up the regular water tanks again.

  “Now, if we could just find a full gas trailer, we would be set.” Martin sighs.

  “We could go looking,” I suggest.

  “You are going nowhere but to Doctor Paton.” Martin looks at me sternly.

  And as if on cue, I realize how much my arm and shoulder are throbbing. I look over to the doc’s RV. The line has died down. With a sigh, I give in, knowing Martin is right; this arm will require some stitches.

  Five stitches later and pumped up on painkillers again, I’m all done. At this point, I think I should start to worry about an opiate addiction.

  Martin decided we’ll camp at the gas station tonight since it was getting dark by the time everybody finished filling up. Plus, it gave everyone a chance to take another shower and to wash some clothes if they wanted or needed to.

  No campfires light the night sky tonight; we are too close to populated areas. Martin wants to avoid another maniac or gangster attack. Despite the no-fire rule, Alfredo manages to work the kitchen in the gas station and fixes spaghetti with an excellent tomato sauce for everybody.

  Astrid saunters over to our group and, as usual, sits down right next to Colin. I watch her between narrowed eyes while she bats her eyelashes at him and uses every opportunity to touch his arm or leg. I clench my teeth and sip on my beer.

  Martin bent the rules about alcohol. He decided since we are old enough to risk our lives, we are old enough for an occasional beer a night if we so desire. Frankly, I don’t really care for it; I’m only drinking it because I can. I’m sure it’s not a good idea with the pain killers and all, but nobody has said anything, so that I won’t bring it up. I realize how stupid this is; on the other hand, it’s kind of a rite of passage thing, and I’m not going to pass it up. Plus, I heard beer is an acquired taste, so I’m willing to give it a shot.

  Astrid notices me watching her. “What happened to you today, Allister? I never saw you freeze up before?”

  Her smile looks innocent and sweet, but she is watching Colin for his reaction to her words. He smirks. “Tinker Bell thought that she should save the maniacs.”

  “What?” she squeals. “Why?”

  Ben clears his throat. “I get how you felt Viv.”

  His expression is sad, and for the first time, I realize that he and his dad were in the midst of this afternoon’s battle as well. I give him a knowing smile.

  “What were you thinking, anyway?” Colin asks. “What were you going to do with the maniacs?”

  Helplessly I shrug my shoulders. Beats me, I think deflated. Before I’m able to come up with a satisfactory answer, though, Blake speaks up, “Tie ‘em up neatly and deliver them to Alaska?” He smirks and reminds me of his brother.

  I wrinkle my nose at him. “Ha-ha, too funny.”

  I’m painfully aware that I deserve the razzing, so I smile politely and keep my mouth shut. Sooner or later, they’ll tire of it and find somebody else to antagonize.

  “As long as you’re over your scruples, princess.” Colin looks at me, questioning.

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, you can count on me.”

  “Who would have thought Tinker Bell has a soft heart.” Astrid giggles.

  That’s it! That’s the last straw! I throw my beer can -happy to have an excuse to be done with it and jump into her face. Her eyes go wide, and she looks frozen.

  “I hate it when people call me those stupid nicknames. He gets away with it because he can, but you won’t. Call me by a nickname again, and I’ll punch you. Understood?”

  She manages a nod, looking sideways at Colin for help, but he actually grins at me in his arrogant Colin way. With that and a huff, I bid everyone good night and make my way into the RV. Happy to be able to take advantage of not having any guard duty tonight. I’ll be able to sleep in if three o’clock in the morning can be called that.

  Chapter 37

  Training is suspended in lieu of checking the shops at the small strip mall for anything we might need. Baby items are still high on my list. We found some yesterday at the gas station, but it wasn’t much.

  While I was doctored yesterday, the team was successful in finding an abandoned, half-full tanker truck, which is joining our caravan now, after it, too, has been filled up with the remaining gas from the pumps. Oh, the irony, I think with a smirk.

  Stripping the strip malls -no pun intended is different. On the one hand, Maggie and I are having the time of our lives going shopping; on the other hand, it’s eerie. Guns and knives are never far from our hands as we load up trash bag after trash bag with things we might need. Underwear, socks, shirts all go in the bags. Once they are filled to the brim, we put them on the sidewalk where the boys will pick them up and load them on Brigham’s truck.

  One store, Maggie and I mournfully pass by; it’s our favorite make-up retailer. I remember spending hours in a branch just like this one with Maggie, testing different eyeshadows and lipsticks.

  “You know, they do have a lot of shampoos.” Maggie ventures, her eyes longingly loving the displays in the window.

  “We always need shampoo,” I thoughtfully agree. “And body wash.”

  She nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, soap and stuff, they have that too.”

  I use my gun’s butt after pulling a sock over my hand and smash the window, just like we did with the other stores. After a few times, the glass shatters into thousands of pieces, and I use the gun again to clear out any sharp edges. We keep our weapons ready while we climb through the hole I created.

  No sounds come from within; the air is stuffy, nobody has been in here in weeks, it’s clear. My eyes are automatically drawn towards all the pretty eyeshadow palettes and brushes. I open a garbage
bag. “What the hell, come on, Maggs. This will be our little secret.”

  Maggie makes a sound that sounds like half cry, half laugh, half orgasm, and I giggle.

  “I always wanted this palette.” I squeal, throwing the one-hundred-fifty-dollar eye palette into the bag.

  Maggie swipes a pile of brushes: “This is for all the girls in camp.” She states happily.

  I reach for a lipstick and can’t resist putting it on my lips before checking it in the mirror, but instead of looking at my lips, I stare into crystal blue eyes staring back at me with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Colin asks.

  I swallow hard. Suddenly at a loss for words, Maggie comes to my rescue: “We just got sidetracked; we were looking for body washes and shampoos, honestly.”

  Colin shakes his head, sighing. “That color looks good on you, princess.” He mumbles as he exits the store through the hole we created.

  My best friend and I fall into each other’s arms, laughing loud in relief. “We better get with the program.” She smiles.

  “Yes, that was a close call.” I agree.

  A few hours later, Martin starts the RV, and we roll out. To my utter annoyance, Astrid decided, out of some God-forsaken reason, to ride with us today. She and Colin sit at the dining table, and she keeps making big eyes at him. She has even put make-up on. Probably from the stuff Maggie and I swiped earlier. Astrid is really starting to irritate me.

  I sit on my little chair/bed and text with Maggie, who is cramped in her minivan with her mom and sister. I offer her a ride with us, but she isn’t ready to be separated from her mom and sister just yet; they are still trying to get over the horror of the past two days.

  Was that really only yesterday that we found the murdered caravan? The number of things that can happen in one single day still amazes me. Briefly, I wonder if they will ever cease to surprise me. Something that doesn’t cease to amaze me, though, is that our phones still work. We all take it as the one saving grace in our lives for now.

  It’s not just that it makes our communications with each other easier; it also enables us to pull up maps and survival tips. Although between Martin and Colin, we are pretty good on that front, you just never know.

  I must have complained too much about Astrid because suddenly Maggie asks me.

  Maggie: What is it with you and her? Why do you care? Do you have a THING for Colin now?

  My fingers hover over the little keyboard, ready to type: Of course not. But Maggie is my best friend, and the last thing I want to do, is lie to her, and irritatingly, for some unfathomable reason, it feels like I would.

  ME: IDK. It just really annoys me.

  Maggie: Colin and Viv, sitting in a tree….

  I’m glad she isn’t here right now. Sometimes I feel like strangling my best friend. And with my newfound prowess, I fear for her. I giggle. Then I realize that she too has added some muscle; we would be evenly matched, which makes me think of how much we have changed. A couple of nights ago, on watch duty, we actually talked about different handgun types and compared notes. Not too long ago, we would have had the same conversation about skirts versus pants.

  A wave of nostalgia washes through me. I miss our sleepovers and simple times, and remember, we do have a couch that pulls out into a bed. I wonder if she would like to have a sleepover. It can’t be easy to sleep night after night in her mom’s minivan.

  ME: How about a sleepover?

  Maggie: Too awkward with all the boys at your place, lol

  Yeah, there is that. Astrid giggles at something and makes me want to punch her again. She stretches her hand out across the table and puts it over Colin’s. His and my eyes meet, and I detect annoyance, which makes me moderately feel better.

  The drive goes on. Every four hours, we stop for a few minutes so that the people who don’t have bathroom’s in their vehicles can take a break.

  I keep chatting with Maggie, take short naps, and watch YouTube to kill the boredom until we finally reach Canada. From social media, we have been prepared to expect a long line at the border, to expect a wait that could most likely take a few days.

  Apparently, the Canadian military has spread around its borders and is not allowing anybody in. But people on their way to Alaska are escorted by the army until they reach the Alaskan side. The catch is that they only accompany groups of fifty vehicles at a time, and it takes about forty-eight hours, give or take, for one trip

  We heard of enterprising ferries leaving from several locations in Alaska to Canada. The problem is, though, they not only collect steep fees -which our gas truck might pay for, but the wait is even longer. The boats can only take a few people from our group at a time unless we are willing to leave vehicles behind—especially the behemoths RVs, which we are not.

  We did weigh the options and took a vote, which decided for us to wait and drive. After reaching Canada, we take our spots in line and set up camp for a couple of days. The soldier assigned to us advised that it’ll take five days before we can go—a long wait.

  On a positive note, we won’t need to have guard duty at night, plus the three o’clock in the morning training has been rescheduled to a much more humane time. We’ll have all day. Yeah, us.

  Alaska is beckoning; we are so close. I can’t help but hope life will be easier there. Deep down, though, I suspect that whatever peace we’ll find will only be temporary, but I’m okay with that too.

  Whatever the future will hold for us, I know it will include fighting for our survival, even though we have yet to lay actual eyes on to our real enemies.

  But with a cure in hand for the maniacs, who knows, perhaps we can take Earth back. We most certainly have the right crew of people assembled for it. Whatever they will throw at us, I’m sure our team will be able to handle.

  Chapter 38

  Martin and Colin actually gave us a break, and our training doesn’t start until eight o’clock in the morning. It is a lot cooler here at the Canadian Border, and I’m happy not to be sweating so much anymore. So happy, I don’t even mind the five-mile run Colin has us do as a warmup.

  Astrid showed up for breakfast again, and even now, during our run, she won’t leave Colin’s side. She is clinging to him like a wet rag. I try to figure out why this is annoying me so much while we run through the beautiful forest surrounding us.

  Technically, we are already inside Canada since the military moved us out of the residential areas. But I guess borders are not as strictly enforced any longer. All they want is to keep an eye on us so we don’t run off into the Canadian wilderness.

  Overall, they are pretty relaxed as long as we show that we are cooperating and not trying to ‘invade’ their country. After talking to Border Patrol, we found out that none of the Canadian’s had any problems with the aliens so far. They only heard about the flowers and ships from the news and other travelers.

  It all seems so far removed from what we encountered; it’s hard to believe and could almost lull us into a false sense of security. The Canadians haven’t even seen any maniacs, and we are afraid to mention dinosaurs out of fear they will think we are lunatics.

  But for now, we are running on a little foot-path Colin chose for us. It’s an easy run and gives me the time to appreciate our surroundings. The air is chilly and fresh, nothing compared to the heat we left behind. And I’m glad for it.

  The path lightly but steadily leads up a mountain. It’s surrounded by dense trees, which would normally make me a little nervous, and wonder what might be lurking within. But I’m taking the Canadians’ at their word when they say they haven’t seen anything yet.

  The higher we get, the louder the sound of water becomes. Colin seems to notice it too and leads our group closer until we are right next to a huge waterfall. The sight is so breathtakingly beautiful that I forget to breathe for a few seconds.

  The power behind the rushing water is immense. The roar of it deafening as it cascades down humongous, algae ov
ergrown rocks. On the bottom of the cliff is a large lake with crystal clear water. If I had to guess, I would say the drop is somewhere between thirty and forty feet.

  “Alright, who wants to jump?” Colin challenges with a grin.

  “Wait.” I caution. “We don’t even know how deep the water is.”

  “Only one way to find out scaredy-cat.” He takes off his shoes and clothes.

  I can’t help it, but my mouth gapes open. The man is ripped. I noticed it a few days earlier, but now out in the daylight, I have a hard time averting my eyes. Nobody should look that good in his boxers.

  “Oh darn, I forgot my bra this morning.” Astrid squeals and rips her clothes off as well.

  The boys instantly begin to pant. I don’t even have to look at them to know it. To my utter dismay, I can’t help but notice that Astrid is built nicely too. And she has this cute round, stick out butt that is all the rage lately—causing me to hate her even more. I grind my teeth as I follow suit and take my clothes and shoes off. I’m just glad I picked black underwear this morning. No way would I get in the water with tidy whities.

  It’s funny watching everybody jump around one-legged, trying to get their shoes and pants off. I decide not to suffer this indignity and sit down on a fallen tree to take my shoes off. Meanwhile, Colin takes a plunge making my heart skip. Not to be outdone. Or to be alone with him, Astrid follows suit right away. I peel my pants and shirt off and peak over the rocks to make sure they made it down okay. Their pealing laughter reaches me all the way to the top, even over the roar of the rushing water.

  “Looks like they are fine,” Ty says, before he, too, takes a running leap.

  I give Michael and Katie a questioning glance; they are the only ones still dressed.

  “I can’t swim,” Michael admits with a self-deprecating shrug of his shoulders. “I guess I’ll just keep an eye on our stuff.”

 

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