Vanishing Rain (Blue Spectrum Chronicles Book 2)

by L. L. Crane

  My stomach was full, my arm felt like a fire was burning inside of it, and I was suddenly so tired, my eyelids felt like there were hundred pound weights on each one.

  I laid down on Garment’s ugly couch and instantly fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Blush

  When I woke up it was Blush who was perched in a chair beside me, not Garment. I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes.

  “So, you got yourself into some trouble, huh?” she roughly asked me.

  I waited a minute to reply, afraid of the scolding I knew I would get. “Yeah.” My stomach was heaving and I thought I might toss up the rich food I had ingested before I fell asleep.

  She scowled at me. “Does Dove know?”

  I bit my lower lip. My heart was breaking over more than just losing Orion. Leaving my family was almost harder than Orion’s strange disappearance. I met her eyes. “No,” I answered honestly, afraid of her response.

  Blush shot me an even nastier look, her pale hazel eyes a weapon, one of the many she held in her personal arsenal. “Why not? She would have helped you,” she snipped.

  “I know…but I didn’t want to get her in trouble.”

  Blush tipped her head back and roared, a deeper laugh than Garment’s. Then she soberly glared at me. “But you don’t mind getting us in trouble?”

  I had never thought of it like that. “I...I figured you already had Sergio…that you would know how to hide me.” I faltered, unsure of myself around the outspoken woman who seemed to hate me.

  I continued, though. “Just for a while. I…I’m going to Province K, to the Asters.” I folded my arms over my chest, then winced in pain, my arm blazing with rabid heat. I tried to act casual, though, hoping that Blush wouldn’t notice, smoothing out my expression with a practiced look of boredom.

  Blush and I had never been fast friends, and I didn’t want to make things worse between us. I also knew how protective she was over Sergio. Being threatened by her once was enough for me. “It won’t be for long,” I told her in my most grown up, ready to be a mother voice. “I just need to lay low for a bit. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Holy shit,” she responded, then whistled through her nose. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sucked air into her lungs, roughly twisting her head to the side. “Do you know anything about the Asters?”

  I stuck my chin out stubbornly. “Yes,” I answered. “I’ve done a lot of research on Province K.”

  She snorted, her plain face constricting into an angry ball. “As if that would help.” I was getting ready to say something snarky to her, having had my fill of her comments and general nasty attitude. The words were circling in my mind, a whirlwind of sharp, jagged verbs, mostly telling her where I thought she needed to go. But her voice softened. “Let me see that arm.”

  I pulled my arm into my body, as if to protect it. “Why? Like you care or something?”

  Blush scowled at me again, her words a contrast to her expression. “Yeah. I care.”

  She tipped her jaw upward, defiantly, so much like Ivy did, that I was startled for a brief moment. Then she tossed her head, her plain brown hair jumping away from her face, a spider web of brown threads

  She hesitated, then, and a faraway look peeled into her eyes. Her words were kinder, dough that she was kneading around in her brain until it was smooth. “I lost a baby, once,” she whispered coarsely, as if the words were physically hurting her voice box.

  I took in a sharp breath, meeting her eyes. “Oh, I…I’m so sorry.” My breath felt hot, heavy,

  rancid. I pursed my lips together as pain shot through my head, a bullet that threatened to blast it right off of my shoulders.

  After pausing again, more words rushed from Blush’s mouth, a turbulent river flowing out of her very insides. I started to figure out that maybe Blush didn’t act like I was the only person that she hated. Maybe it was everybody, a front she put up to protect herself, not so different than the imaginary plastic shield I placed around my own heart to protect me from the pain that still smacked over losing Orion.

  Her voice was low, a strange new feminine tone added, softening her features, everything about her. “I was living in a different Province back then, and the Administration aborted my baby. Thought it would have S.L.A.G. so they put me under…and…” Blush twisted her head away from me, but she continued to speak. “I was six months along.” She furrowed her brow. “It was a tiny, perfect girl.” They let me hold her for a few minutes before they took her away.” Blush inhaled sharply. “I know one thing. She wasn’t S.L.A.G.”

  A small tear dripped out of Blush’s eye. Roughly, she swiped it away, turning from me, obviously embarrassed. “They didn’t even say they were sorry. Just sent me home.”

  “What did you do?”

  Blush took in about ten breaths, as if she was cleansing her soul. “I went to Dove. We worked together back then…in the same law office. She changed my name, my identity. Called her brother, and he took me in.” Her eyes landed on me, somewhat harshly. “Same as you.”

  “She can do that?” Thoughts raced in my mind, sprinting to a finish line I couldn’t find. Maybe I could still go to Dove and have her help me, still be with my family.

  Blush rubbed her hand through her dull brown hair. “A long time ago she could. I don’t know if she can any more.” She reached for my arm and pulled my sleeve back, carefully unraveling the bandage that I had hastily wrapped in my post-drunken state. I let out a sharp gasp from the pain.

  She dropped the bandage in a trash bin and carefully examined my forearm, cocking her head to the side.

  “This looks awful.” She lifted her head, and I could decipher worry in her eyes.

  “That bad?” I squeaked out, my arm pulsing as if it had a life of its own.

  She nodded her head slowly up and down. “Yeah. Damn it all to hell.”

  Chapter 10

  Fire

  Blush eyed me fiercely and reached for the first aid kit that was resting on the ugly couch. She drenched my arm with antiseptic, and I stifled a cry. I didn’t know if she was trying to hurt me or if it was typical first aid for someone who had cut out a tracker-timer.

  “Shit,” she grunted. “This is nasty. You need a damn doctor…should have had stitches.”

  Gulping, I tried to explain. “I…”

  But she interrupted. “Goddamn it,” she swore, pouring more antiseptic over the wound. It burned so badly I thought I would pass out, and if it was anyone but Blush, I probably would have screamed out loud. My mind was floating in blackness, little motes popping up occasionally in my vision. But it was the dizziness that threatened to do me in as she applied some sort of ointment over the gaping hole in my arm.

  Blush wrapped my arm back up with fresh gauze. Once the wound was covered, I felt better, but my arm ached badly, throbbing with every pulse of my heart.

  “Lie down,” she ordered, and I gratefully leaned back into the soft pillow. It was silent for a moment, and I closed my eyes, just wanting to go back to sleep.

  But Blush had other ideas. Words she had apparently kept locked up seemed to make a jail break at that precise moment. “You know, Garment is Dove’s brother?”

  Her word chased images of Dove and Garment and Falcon into my mind. I had noticed similarities about them all before but nobody had ever told me that Garment and Dove were related. I let out a hot puff of air. I should have figured it out from what she had said before.

  I opened my eyes, meeting hers. “No…but I did noticed they both wave their hands the same way…just like Falcon.”

  I thought for a minute. How could his name be Garment if he was Dove’s sister? Their family crest was birds, one of the original high born crests, even older than my family’s.

  “Why isn’t he named after a bird?”

  Blush laughed again, only this time it held a mean streak in it. “The Administration was going to Exile him, you know, for being gay.”

 
I sat up quickly, my head swimming. “Gods, no!”

  I thought about it for a moment. In Province A, everybody was heterosexual. It was mandated. I had never even known of anyone being gay, had never thought about it other than the mean comments the boys always made about Instructor 74. I had never stopped to think about homosexuality other than knowing it to be a transgression in the Provinces, one of the many ridiculous mandates we had to follow.

  “Yep,” Blush continued. “Dove changed his name, and he set himself up in business here.” She smiled kindly at me, maybe for the first time. “I was a mess, after losing the baby. He took me in. And Sergio.”

  She continued without even coming up for air. “Garment’s one of the kindest people I know. We put up a front, you know.” She tossed her head boyishly again. “People think we’re marriage partners. We even went through with the ceremony.” She smiled shyly at me. “I’d do anything for him. But we aren’t real marriage partners…if you know what I mean.” She grinned. “Just good friends.”

  “Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Then the old Blush returned for a visit, glaring sharply at me. She puffed up, almost visibly. “I would kill anyone who endangered him. Or Sergio.”

  I stared her down. “You don’t have to worry about me,” I spit back at her. “I’m in more trouble than either of you.” I fell back against the couch, my head splitting into chunks and my arm roaring with sharp, hot slices of pain.

  Blush did the oddest thing then. She tenderly reached her hand to my forehead, placing it there like a mother would, like my own mother had when I was a littlie. Before Snow and Ice were born. Before…when she wasn’t so bad.

  Blush’s words were brusque as her eyes carved through me, a laser beam of greenish brown mixed with a dose of worry that was unmistakable, even for Blush. “Shit, kid, you’re on fire,” she exhaled.

  Chapter 11

  Fever

  Blush stormed out of the back room and I leaned back onto the couch wondering how long I would be able to stay with Garment. Probably not too long. I was nauseous again, and I felt cold and clammy. I started shivering, so I searched for a blanket or something to wrap up in. There was a thin purple comforter at the end of the couch, and I curled up in it. Aching everywhere by then, not just my arm, it felt like a poisonous viper was inside of me, traveling through my veins at a rapid rate and burning everything in its path. I worried about the baby.

  Blush returned, holding a bottle of nutrient water and a small red pill. “Here.” She held out the pill and water to me. It’s an antibiotic. It’ll fight infection.” She shot a stern look at me. “And it won’t hurt the baby.”

  I tried to prop myself up, but the intense pain clamped my body back to the couch as if a wrecking ball had swung from the ceiling, hitting me with full force. “Are you sure?” I croaked.

  Blush knelt by me, propping me up with a pillow. “Yeah, I’m sure. Now drink up.”

  By that point I had become so irritable that I imagined my hands around her neck. There was a piece of me that knew Blush was trying to help me, but that portion was small and buried deep beneath the earth. I was having a difficult time digging it up.

  “Quit bossing me around,” I barked at her, my voice hoarse and raw. “Besides, how would you know?” I asked suspiciously. I had already consumed champagne and the brandy I took from the apartment. None of that could have been good for the baby. I didn’t want to add medicine to the list…chances were pretty high that the baby would be born with S.L.A.G., anyway.

  “Pan went to med school. He’s a doctor.”

  The words came out a whisper of pain. “Who is Pan?”

  “Another…friend. He’ll be here soon. He always leaves us with a supply of medicine. For emergencies just like this.” Blush awkwardly patted my head.

  I shot her a nasty look for good measure, took the pill with my icy hand, and croaked, “I’m not a dog.” I gulped down the pill with a small swallow that felt like acid was burning its way to my stomach. It hurt so badly, I wanted to scream, but by then I was so tired I didn’t have the energy. My stomach gurgled, and then I became hot, almost violently swishing the blanket off my body.

  I laid back onto the couch, thinking that death might be a better option. I had never felt so sick in my life.

  “You need to eat. A little broth would be good for you.” Blush surveyed me with concern, folding her plain eyebrows downward. “Do you think you could hold some down…for the baby?” Like a cold front had moved into the tiny room, I started shivering again and pulled the blanket up to my chin, wrapping myself into a tight cocoon.

  Food was the last thing I wanted, but there was something different about Blush, and I relented. As harsh as Blush had always been, she seemed to be softer now that she knew I was pregnant. It was as though it was her personal mission to save the baby. I nodded my head, feeling the hammers inside of it pounding ruthlessly away, watching with dull eyes as she scurried out of the room.

  Garment sashayed in just then, clapping his hands. The lights flashed on and then off. Then back on. “Oh, daarling…” He stopped mid-sentence, mid-clap. “You look terrible. What did Blush do to you?”

  My teeth were chattering. “N...n…noth…ing.”

  He sat down beside me and took my hand in his. His long fingers were warm to the touch. “Are you well enough to make a plan, little one?”

  I nodded my head, even though I couldn’t think beyond surviving the next few moments that savagely crept up on me with painful, bone crunching awareness. I pulled the blanket tighter around my body, if that was even possible. My hair hung limply in my eyes, but I was too tired to push it away.

  “Good. Here’s what I’m thinking. You need to rest up for a few weeks.” He scrunched his eyebrows downward while patting my legs, which felt like he was blasting sharp rocks on them. I pulled myself into a different position. “How far along do you think you are?”

  “C…couple months,” I managed to get out, my breath scalding my hands and arms, anything in its path.

  Garment nodded, folding his lower lip under as if in deep thought. Somehow, I became even colder than before, and he automatically reached for another blanket and wrapped me in it. He continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary, like pregnant teens showed up on his doorstep every day. “If you wait much longer, you might be…showing. You can stay here until the baby is born, but then you would have to stay in the back room forever, never leaving. You and the baby.” He held his gaze on me with a fatherly expression. “It wouldn’t be good for a baby to be raised in this atrocious dark old room. And, if the Administration somehow found the baby, they would…ah…you know…kill it.”

  “I..I’m g..going t…t…to the Asters,” I told him with determination through chattering teeth. “I..I…I’m g…going to b...be an Exile.” I forced the words out, each sound a match being lit in my throat. All I wanted to do was sleep, for everybody to leave me alone. Just then Blush came in with a bowl of broth, setting it in front of me sternly.

  Without missing a beat, Garment picked up the bowl and spoon, ladling some out and holding it to my lips. I opened obediently and he gently drizzled the broth down my throat, a mother bird feeding her young. To my surprise, the broth soothed my throat and I managed a weak smile. My own mother had never fed me broth or tended to me like this. Dove, though, she would have done the exact same thing. “Are you sure?” Garment asked, ladling up another spoon full of broth. “There might be some other choices.”

  I shook my head back and forth, still determined to make it to the Asters.

  Garment sighed, his minty breath floating toward me. Normally it didn’t bother me, but it smelled as if a mint factory had exploded, and I gagged visibly. He moved back a bit, sensing what was wrong. He continued, “You could go north. I hear there is a band of Exiles there.”

  Suddenly I was colder than I had ever been in my life. I yanked the covers up to my chin, answering as firmly as I could. “N…no,” I stuttered. “A…asters.
”

  “I see.” Garment patted my knee, and I tried not to pull away from the terrible pain his gentle touch caused. He continued feeding me the broth, meticulously fitting the spoon into my mouth. I doubted if he even spilled a drop. With the last of the broth gone, he spoke. “Rest up little butterfly. When you feel better, we shall turn you into a Rebel Fighter. It’s the only way.”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about. I was pregnant. How could I be a Rebel Fighter?

  As if reading my mind, he answered, placing the spoon in the bowl with a tiny plunk, which beat on my eardrums like an explosion. “Oh, you will learn, little one.” He paused for a moment. “If you are going to the Asters, you will have to learn.” He sighed deeply, his thin chest heaving inward. “You will learn. Or you will die.”

  I was burning up again, so at least my teeth had quit chattering. ‘I’ll learn,” I stammered with as much determination as I could muster at the moment. My stomach threatened to spew out its contents as a windy hot front rocketed over my entire body again. My flesh was on fire.

  I miserably rolled myself into a ball on the couch-bed, staring mutely at the black wall and wondered what kind of mess I had gotten myself into.

  Chapter 12

  Injection

  I slept fitfully, the fever taking over my body, a cruel tyrant with clawed hands that refused to let me go. I battled between hot and cold flashes, shivering and burning. The night drug by wickedly, holding me its prisoner. I wanted to lash out at it, but I was so weak all I could do was lie in my sweat soaked pajamas trying to get comfortable. It was an impossible task.

  There was no judging night from day in the dark little room, and I had just drifted off to sleep when Blush appeared, shaking me gently, my body rumbling violently against her touch.