Vanishing Rain (Blue Spectrum Chronicles Book 2) (6 page)

Chapter 13

Heartbeat

When I woke up the next time, I was all alone on the couch.  I took in deep breaths, trying to figure out what had happened.  I didn’t hurt anymore, and I wasn’t hot or cold.  Just normal.

But I was nauseous, and as I struggled to sit up, wearing soft pajamas that I had never seen before, I threw up all over myself.

I managed to stay in a sitting position, hot vomit reeking from a pile in my lap, wafting up to my nostrils in that sick and sour and vile smell that had become so familiar to me in the past several weeks.

Since I had been pregnant. 

My mind swirled crazily and I was so dizzy that I had to lie back against the pillows, the vomit cooling in my lap. 

I remembered then.  They had killed my baby.

I began to bawl frantically, not sure where I could go…what to do.  I had already destroyed my tracker-timer – I couldn’t go home.

Blush was by my side, then.  I looked up at her forlornly.

“It’s okay.  I’ll clean it up.” She left in a rush, and I just sat there in my own vomit, immobilized and crying. 

They killed my baby.  I was sure of it.  Memories of the injections cast shadows in my mind.  Maybe I had dreamt it all.  Then I saw Panther’s face.  Clearly, vividly, more real than a vid on my desk at school.  He was giving me the Shot while Blush and Garment held me down. Why?  Why would they do that?  

Blush returned with a bucket and some rags.  She began sopping up my vomit.  I couldn’t move, but I could manage to shoot her a nasty look.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” she asked me.

“You. Held. Me. Down.”  My teeth were clenched.  “So. He. Could. Kill. My. Baby.”

Blush’s eyes popped open wide, horror overtaking them.

“No…no…”

She stood up, agitated.  “I would never allow that.”

I unclenched my teeth.  If I had more energy, I might have tackled her, shot up off of the ugly couch and run away.  But I was weak, could barely move, and Blush’s face started to fade into two faces, three faces, maybe four all swirling blurrily into each other.

“That…that…man…Panther…he gave me the Shot.”  I breathed heavily.  “I remember.  I saw him.”

Blush was shaking her head back and forth.

“And YOU held me down while he did it.”

“No…no…it wasn’t like that.”

Blush’s face wobbled before me, and I struggled to make out her expression.  She had always hated me, had tricked me.  Just like my mom.  “I hate you,” I screamed.  “I hate you all.” I began crying again, heavy sobs that ached through my body and straight into my heart.

Garment entered then, sashaying in like nothing had happened.  “Butterfly…calm down.”  He reached to brush my bangs back from my face, but I tossed his hand away, the thought of him touching me sending shivers up my spine.

“You killed my baby,” I yelled at him, spittle flying from my mouth.  I reached my bandaged arm up to wipe it away, amazed that it had quit hurting, that it was cool.

“Oh, daaarling…no we didn’t.  Pan was giving you a sedative and an antibiotic.  So you could fight the infection.  The baby is just fine.”

“Liar,” I spit at him.

“No.  Oh, sugar.  You poor, poor thing.  You thought the injection…”

Blush interrupted.  “She thought it was the Shot.  She thought we held her down so Pan could kill the baby.”

They were both shaking their heads.  “Pan saved your life, sweetie.  Your fever was so high, you would have naturally aborted the baby.  You had a nasty infection from cutting out that tracker-timer.”  He smiled sincerely at me, and I wasn’t sure what to think, who to trust.  I was cold and wet from the vomit and I was hurting inside, raw like someone had scraped my insides with a dull knife.

“The baby is fine.  Pan’s been monitoring it all along,” Blush told me, her voice harsh, just like I remembered it.

Garment spoke then.  “Take a shower, butterfly, and then you can listen to the baby’s heartbeat, okay?”

“Heartbeat?”

“Yes,” he answered.  “It’s a strong one.”  He smiled down at me, so much like Dove did that I hesitated, my sobs lessening.  “That little guy’s a fighter.  Like his mom.”

“It’s a boy?”  I was so confused, not sure who or what to believe.

Garment waved his hand, his rings glistening like small stars in the darkness.  “Oh, it’s too soon to tell.  I just have a feeling it’s a boy.”

Blush scoffed.  “Like you would know.”  They bickered back and forth for a few minutes while I tried to process what they told me.

The baby was alive?  I could hear its heartbeat? 

I wrapped my arms around that thought, holding it tightly to my heart.  The baby was all I had left of Orion, and even though I told myself on a daily basis that I was over him, I didn’t realize how much I had been holding onto him through the baby until I thought they had killed it.  The loss I felt was more than just the baby…it was Orion as well, and losing him, the only piece I had left of him, was much worse the second time around.

I gulped back tears that threatened to spill out again.

“You need a shower,” Blush ordered gruffly, holding a thick towel.  I stood up woozily, staggering.  Blush took one arm and Garment took the other.  They guided me into the bathroom and Blush turned on the shower.  Garment snuck out while the room filled up with steam.

“I’m staying here in case you fall,” Blush told me. “Don’t worry, I won’t look.”

I didn’t really care about modesty at that point.  I stripped my soiled pajamas off of my sticky body and stepped into the shower.  The hot water beat down on me, and I don’t remember anything ever feeling so good in my life.  Well, images of Orion drifted into my head just then, how he wrapped me softly in his thick arms, always making me feel safe.  That definitely felt better than a shower.  But Orion was gone. I had to settle for hot water and steam.

I sighed, scrubbing my hair with the expensive shampoo that was on the shower shelf.  Suds appeared along with a heavenly vanilla scent. I rinsed my hair, remnants of the soap pooling onto the shower floor, little bubbles that each seemed to have a personality of its own, wanting to tell me a story of some sort.  I watched with fascination as they cycled down the drain, as if I had killed them.

I glanced down and placed my hand on my stomach.  It looked the same.  If they had killed my baby, wouldn’t the little bit of swelling down there be less?  Who knew?  I certainly wasn’t a doctor.

I dried off with the softest, thickest towel I had ever used in my life.  Suddenly I was hungry, as if I hadn’t eaten in days.  Who knew, maybe I hadn’t.

I stepped out of the shower, and Blush was waiting.  She shoved a robe at me.  “Here, put this on,” she gruffly ordered.  I took the robe from her and wrapped it around my body.  Then I tucked my long black hair into the towel.

“Follow me,” Blush said as she walked purposefully out of the bathroom.

We entered the dark room where Sergio was kept, and I stepped back, suddenly afraid. Panther was standing in the room right next to Garment looking all white and doctory.  Beside them was some kind of a small machine on a chrome cart with tiny black wheels.  I took a step back.

“It’s okay,” Blush soothed, which sounded odd coming from her lips.  “It’s an instrument doctors use to listen to a baby’s heartbeat.”  She grabbed me none too gently by the shoulders.  “Do you think I would let anyone hurt that baby…after all I’ve been through?”  Her hazel eyes were piercing into me.  I didn’t know who to trust, but at that moment, my options were limited.

“Lie down,” Garment told me.  “I will do it if you don’t want Pan to.”

I glared at Panther as I stretched out on the beige couch. “You do it,” I told Garment.

Panther handed Garment the instrument, which looked like a large pen that was connected to the machine somehow.  “Put some gel on her lower abdomen,” he ordered.

Blush pulled my robe open a bit and applied some kind of clear gel onto my stomach.  She spread it around quickly and I felt violated again, like I was some kind of science experiment. I fought the urge to get up and run again, but the baby’s heartbeat was something I wanted to hear more than anything else at that moment.

Garment leaned down toward me with the pen-like instrument.  “I’ve never done this before,” he gushed.  “But I watched Pan do it several times.” His deep blue eyes were focused on me, two orbs of life I didn’t know if I could trust, yet so much like Orion’s that I was mesmerized by them.  I nodded in agreement, though.  I wanted to hear that heartbeat.

Garment set the instrument on my stomach and moved it slowly around.  I could hear whishing noises, but that was it.  “I’ll turn up the volume,” Panther suggested in what must have been his doctor voice.  I shot him another nasty look.

Garment placed the odd instrument back on my stomach.  I glanced over to the other couch, afraid of what I was going to hear.  Or not hear.

Sergio was seated at the couch, the fat folds of his stomach spilling out over his pants.  He was quiet, though, and of all the people in the room, he bothered me the least.

The instrument was back on my stomach, moving in slow circles.  The whishing noise continued and then I thought I heard something. “Stop,” Panther almost shouted.

Quickly but gently, Garment held the instrument in place.  There was no denying what I heard.

A strong, steady heartbeat sang a lullaby to its mother through an instrument I had never heard of before.  But there was no denying that it was a rapidly beating and very strong heartbeat.

It thumped its obvious life to me, and a smile broke out on my face.  I started crying then, tears of relief.  Tears that were so tightly linked to Orion and this baby that I couldn’t even put words to them.

I shamelessly cried rivers of tears as I listened to the baby’s strong heartbeat.  I never wanted it to end, but eventually, Garment pulled the instrument away and handed it to Panther. 

I must have looked sheepish.

“It’s okay,” Blush consoled.  “You were just protecting your baby.  That’s what mothers do.”

I turned my head and met Pan’s steely eyes head-on.  “I’m sorry,” I sputtered.  “I thought…”

“Oh, butterfly,” Garment soothed, patting my leg. 

They all laughed, then and began talking at once, about the baby’s heartbeat, how I was better, the fever, and fortunately, food.

I smiled up at them all, my heart swelling.  They hadn’t killed my baby.

They had saved us both.

Chapter 14

Fighter

I rested for several days in the dark room.  Sergio came and went quietly, never acknowledging that I had taken over his room.  I smiled at him whenever I could, but of course, I got no response.  Garment, Blush, and Pan made a steady parade in and out to check on me.  Mostly to pamper me.  I had never felt so spoiled in my life. 

Blush would bring me broth and nutrient water.  “For the baby,” she would gruffly comment, but her eyes were tender.

Garment could have been a mother himself, and I saw remnants of Falcon and Dove in his fussing.  He called me endearing names besides butterfly.  I was pigeon, daaaarling, sweetie, baby, love, and a host of other names that tangled up in my brain and my heart.  He swished in and out of the room dramatically at least every hour to check on me. 

Pan was all business, though.  He checked my vitals as well as the baby’s.  He administered medicine, always telling me what it was so I wouldn’t think he was harming the baby.  He gave me vitamin shots, which made me a little nervous, but he said that my body was depleted of nutrients, and although the baby was fine because it would take from me, I needed the shots so I could heal.  Still, the injections made me nervous.

I got to listen to the baby’s heartbeat every day, though, and I looked forward to that more than anything.  With each steady beep I heard on the machine, it was as if Orion was calling to me from far away.

While I rested, in between the naps that came and went like a soft brush of wind, I would stare at the ceiling, searching for constellations in the sparkly plaster.  I would pretend that Orion was there, watching over us.

Us.  I had begun to think of the baby and me as us.  I smiled at the thought then panicked. Gods, was I ready to be a mother?  I sighed, not knowing the answer to that one. 

In about a week I was declared fit enough to start walking around, but I had to stay in the back room.  I would walk from the bedroom to the bathroom, determined to gather my strength.  At first I could only make about three rounds before I was huffing and puffing, falling into my couch-bed, exhausted. 

In a few days, though, I became stronger.  I could make about twenty laps before needing to rest.  I would eat and get back to exercising.  “Walking is good for the baby,” Pan had told me as I was plopping onto the couch after one of my self-imposed sessions.  There wasn’t much else I could do in the back room, and I had already taken over some of Sergio’s duties, like folding and laundering washcloths and towels for the customers.

“The color is back in my little butterfly’s cheeks!” Garment gushed at me one day.  “Are you ready to start training?”

“Training?”

“Daaaarling, if you’re going to the Asters, you’ll have to be trained.”

“Oh, ah, yeah, I guess so.”

Just then Pan entered, carrying a big satchel, and I could tell that it wasn’t his medical bag.  “You ready?” he asked.  He was wearing a black vinyl jumpsuit this time, and I popped my head up, scrutinizing him.  I had never seen him wear anything but white.

I tipped my head up at him.  “For what?”

“To be a Rebel Fighter?”

“A Rebel Fighter?” My jaw dropped and my eyes must have popped wide open.

He laughed heartily.  “You don’t seem too excited about it.”

I bit my lower lip, thinking. “Well, I’m pregnant.  And I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

“That a girl,” he cackled, throwing me a jumble of clothes.  “There’s a body shield in there.  It will protect the baby.  Now, get changed and get rid of that god-awful uniform.  It reminds me of when I had to wear one of the damn things.”  He twirled around like an acrobat and then bounced out the door.  “I’ll be back.”

I stripped out of my boring school uniform and studied the clothes and body shield.  The jumpsuit matched the one Pan wore, so that would be easy enough to put on. But the body shield was made of some kind of heavy material with belts and gadgets.  I struggled to wrap it around my waist. 

“You done in there?” Pan called out to me.

“No. I can’t figure this thing out.”

Without a fuss, or even acting like he noticed I was standing in my underwear, Pan just walked in, took one look at me, and then busted up laughing.  “Butterfly, you have it on backward.”  He twisted the shield around and showed me how to put it on properly.

“Do you wear one?” I asked him.

“Do I look pregnant to you?” 

“No,” I laughed.  I slipped into the jumpsuit and zipped it up, the leathery vinyl already making me sweat.

I turned my head to Pan, wondering what was next, when out of the blue, he shot his hand out and smacked me in the chest.  I reeled backward and fell hard onto the ground.

My breath was knocked out of me, and I struggled to keep back tears.  Pain jolted through my back and chest, and I worried about the baby. 

“Rule one,” Pan calmly explained.   “Always be on your guard.”

“But we hadn’t even started yet,” I argued.

He kicked me in the side of my leg, pain exploding through it.  “Do you really think you’re going to get a warning from those assholes in the Asters?”

I gulped, staring at this crazy man before me.  I jumped up as fast as I could and watched him closely.  We were civilized in Province A.  Any fights that broke out were quickly extinguished with harsh punishments.  I had no idea how to fight, how to take on this crazed being in front of me. 

Pan continued to bat at me, punch me, and batter me.  In short order, I learned quickly how to avoid an oncoming punch, not so much to protect me, but the baby. 

He was ruthless, and hate burned in my belly for him again.  Every punch, every kick, every assault scorched inside of me, a volcano of feelings that I tamped down.

But I watched.  I watched very closely.

Because I was determined to get to the Asters, and from what Garment said, I apparently needed to be a Rebel Fighter. 

Whatever that was.