Rayn-What happens when the rain doesn't stop?

[Omen]

Forever Rain: The story of Rayn

Chapter 22 – The Rescue – Part 2

Moving in a zigzag to cross the street, shallow puddles were sheared into sharp splashes as Rayn lead the endeavor to create a distraction for Fatboy; she moved, obsessed, as if she had a point to prove. Cory kept pace with her small companion, just as focused, and even more serious. Her fear had devolved into a dark emotion of anxiousness, worry, and frustration.

Both not far from each other, they moved along the side of the far end of the plaza to get around back without being seen. Their vision was shortened from the foul weather as Rayn continually wiped her face desperate to find the back door leading into the bar.

Cory was the first to curse the elements, “Dang, this storm.” Rayn was quick to follow suit, “Yep.”

The storm?

It was a relentless backdrop of disorder as it fell like a billion ball bearings made up of raindrops forming a waterfall. Lightning danced as a gathering of devilish imps in the darkened sky, while thunder punched the earth. It was merely afternoon, but it felt like an accursed evening brought forth too early.

The two huddled together under a failing awning to catch their breath as Cory pointed at a large, metal trash bin on the edge of the small parking lot. The bin was on its side with a little chair in it. The chair had the bottom cut out of it.

Cory tipped her head at Rayn, “That’s their crap seat.”

“Their bathroom?” asked Rayn as she began to shiver.

“Yea. We’re close, Green-eyes. Look at the door over there. It’s cracked open.”

In no time, flat, the duo was at the door pushing it slowly to the side to ensure stealth; the noise from the rain gave great cover. The first thing noticed was the intense stink of musk, mildew, and decay. The girl’s face winced and the young woman gagged. Just past the stairs was a short hallway leading to the front space acting as their church, which, of course, was nothing more than the broken-down bar. The stairs near the backdoor they entered, lead up to the living area made up of six rooms. This was where the fire needed to be started.

Once again, taking the lead, Rayn eased into the darkness following the few candles lit in small jars to show the way. Cory accompanied as she slipped on the soggy, mildew-laced carpet lining each of the steps. Breathing the air became more difficult the deeper they went into the area.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Cory pointed at the far door and whispered, “Let’s light up the room Fatboy woke up in.”
Even through the lowlight, she saw the smile on Rayn’s face.

Creeping to the door and listening intently, both agreed no sounds were detected. They eased into room and found the tub and bed that Fatboy described. Rayn quickly went to work, pulling out the contents of the burn bag and cutting up the putrid smelling material acting as covers on the bed. Large roaches scurried along the walls, daring both of the females to leave screaming – the roaches nearly won the contest.

Rayn lit a small fire in the center of the bed and jumped towards Cory as a new intrusion of roaches scuttled from the mattress.

“EEEKK!”, she screamed uncontrollably, “I hate roaches!!”

Cory slapped the bat against the bed killing a small gathering of the large insects, while also spreading the flames. The bed jumped from the impact creating a knocking sound that was distinctively different than the murmurs from the storm outside.

She coughed as the flames began to grow, ”C’mon -cough- Green-Eyes, our job is -cough- done.”

Rayn fell through the door gasping for air as Cory moved before her to follow suit while grasping the balcony railing.

“Who you?” a voice belted from down the hall. “I said, who you?”

The increasing light from the growing fire, ensured that there was no mistaking the gangly figure before the duo. He had unkempt hair with streaks of gray and his brow was noticeable. His shoulders were uneven and his arms were like thick vines. His cloth-wrapped forearm, as well as his leg, had blood stains seeping through the material.

The man moved forward to study the duo closer. His eyes moved beyond the girl, studied the young woman, then froze on the aluminum bat. “Finders-keepers girlie, I done seen that bat before.”

Simpering, the simple man studied Cory closer as he eased forward towards them. “You must know Fatboys, girlie. You must be the one he was looking for. You his sister?”

Cory was unable to move. She was paralyzed by fear as Bird lurked forward hungry for a victim.

“You look like him, girlie. You got my bat and I’m gonna kill you.”

Snatching the bat from Cory’s hand, Rayn lurched into a wild swing, bashing Bird in his wounded leg.

“Fear NO man! C’mon, Cory, let’s get out of here!” She shouted as Bird collapsed to the ground shrieking.

Reaching out instinctively, Bird grabbed Rayn by her hair and tugged her backwards to the ground. She screamed as she dropped the bat to clutch his hand.

Cory remained frozen in fear.

Bird tugged his prey across the floor as she kicked and fought. Blood seeped from his thigh onto the floor as he yanked violently in a downward direction forcing Rayn to smash the side of her face into the floor.

“Dale gonna like you, little girlie! He loves children.” Bird snarled.

Cory remained frozen in fear.

Pulling her pocketknife out, as her face began to swell, Rayn sliced through her hair to free her from Bird’s grasp. Unable to regain her balance she squirmed around the floor, searching for the bat as her hunter staggered to his feet while releasing a fist full of her hair.

“You gonna make me hurt you more, stop fighting.”

“No!” cried Rayn as she pivoted in the burning light with a second swing of the bat in a downward motion. Missing his entire leg, but finding a home on the top of his foot; bones crunched.

The gangly man instantly collapsed again in extreme pain.

Rayn teetered over to Cory as one of her eyes closed from the swelling. She grasped her hand, “Wake up Cory… Please. The fire is growing. We have to get out of here.”

With tears in her eyes, Cory finally blinked. “Rayn?”

Nothing else was spoken as the young girl, wanting so bad to be a woman, guided her friend down the stairs and out the back of the bar. They headed to the rally point, back at the Athen's theatre.

[John Reid]

Wow! That was an action packed sequence. My favorite quote though was...
"It was a relentless backdrop of disorder as it fell like a billion ball bearings made up of raindrops forming a waterfall. Lightning danced as a gathering of devilish imps in the darkened sky, while thunder punched the earth."

I confess I envy your way with words. Excellent.

[John Reid]

"Be careful what you wish for" by John Reid

Joey got up early and got on his bicycle with his fishing pole. The rain was light and he hoped to catch enough fish to feed him and his mother tonight. He lost his father when he was only three and now at age 17 he can barely remember what he looked and sounded like? He made it to his favorite fishing spot near the bend in the Mississippi River and sat under the big oak tree hoping it might keep the rain off of him. He baited his hook with the nightcrawlers he dug up in his front yard and tossed his line in. It seemed like this was going to be his lucky day when the bait hardly hit the water until he hooked a fish. It felt like it weighed 5 pounds or more and he struggled to keep it from getting away. As his battle with the fish continued the rain and wind began to pick up as did the accompanying thunder and lightning. The wind was blowing the rain sideways now and straight at him but he refused to give up on catching that fish. He lost his hat first as the wind grew worse and then his plastic bag rain coat, which worked pretty well usually to keep him dry but today seemed to act more like a sail and now he was fighting the fish and the storm at the same time. Then without warning he lost the fight and his line snapped! He was pulling so hard that he lost his balance and went flying backwards. The rain was coming down so hard now that the ground was nothing but mud a half a foot deep and he landed right in it! "Nooooo!!" Joey screamed in frustration as he lost the fish, his line, his bait and now his patience! "I hate the rain! Why does it have to rain all of the time! I wish it would never rain again!" He started to get up but slipped and fell to his knees getting even muddier than he already was! Just then there is a deafening clap of thunder simultaneously with a blinding flash of light as lightning strikes the tree he is sitting under and severs a huge branch which drops with no warning from high above. Joey is struck hard on top of the head and is instantly knocked unconscious.
The next thing he is aware of is the intense heat. It's not the same kind of heat that he knows from their wood burning stove. It's a dry heat. He feels his clothes and they are dry and then he opens his eyes and is nearly blinded by a bright light. He is laying on his back and throws his arms over his face to block the light that hurt his eyes. He sits up and opens his eyes and is stunned by what he sees? The river is gone! There is a line of people walking in the dry river bed. A long long line of people all going the same way. He staggers to his feet and then realizes for the first time that it is not raining! Then comes the real shocker, the sky is blue and cloudless. Completely and totally cloudless and then he sees it! A gigantic red disc in the sky as big as a dinner plate! "What is that?" He shouts. Some woman in the endless line comes over toward him. Like everyone else she seems to be carrying her belongings on her back. "Are you ok?" she asks him. "Look up there! What is that?" Joey exclaims. "That's the sun deary. Where have you been?" She explains. "It can't be the sun...It's red and huge." "I know" she says. "It's been like that since yesterday afternoon." Joey said, "I...I just woke up. Something hit me on the head and that was the last thing I remember?. "Then you don't know." she says, "Know what?" Joey asks. "The sun...the sun has...grown.. It's bigger and hotter. Everything is drying up. All our water...is gone!" "Gone?" Joey exclaims. "Gone where?" "I'm trying to tell you. The sun got hotter and all the clouds disappeared first and then it just kept getting hotter. It's up to 135 degrees. We could almost watch the river bed dry up right before our eyes. Everything is drying up. We're all going to St. Louis hoping they have some water." Then things grow worse as right before their eyes the sun gets larger still. Now the very air is nearly too hot to breath. Used to 100% humidity his whole life the dry air feels like it's scorching his dry skin on his arms and face and he feels like he is breathing in fire. He looks up and the oak tree it self catches on fire! He tries to run but the hot air makes it impossible to run. "It's the end...of the world!" the woman cries out and then falls to the ground in despair. Then Joey feels water! Cool water hitting his face. It wakes him up and he realizes it was all just a horrible nightmare! "Oh thank God!" He cries out in relief. "Thank God everything is back to normal." Joey heads home on his bicycle smiling as he feels the cold rain beating down on him. "Thank God for the rain." He says with a smile.

[Omen]

At the most... this was wanted and at the least, this was very much needed!!

This is the classic example of a positive outlook discovering it's place within an, easy-to-be-perceived, negative environment. Its all about viewpoint.

What made this for me, was the small task of fishing in such a large world of strife, now that we have been fully immersed in this new dynamic and dangerous setting.

Fishing releases stress... fishing for your only meal adds stress.

Fishing in the rain, gives you a story to brag about when you retell your tale... fishing in a STORM is frustrating and adds to your anxiousness to forget the day ever happened.

This story has taught, 'complaining about too much water' is no different than 'complaining about too much heat'.

It's all about your attitude... after-all, its hard to appreciated the day, if you've never experienced night... and vice-versa.

I love these short tales, because it makes the world seem larger, while NOT forgetting the experiences within it are mostly small, intimate, and fragile.

Please, keep these up!!

-Omen

[John Reid]

Lol. Glad you liked it. I got home the other morning and read your latest episode and that night at work I kept thinking about it so when I got home I just ad libbed a tale because some times you just feel like being creative. You're to blame, your story keeps inspiring me to write.

[John Reid]

A TALE OF TWO VALLEYS by John Reid


Genie is outside splashing in a mud puddle when she hears her mother calling to her to come inside. She comes running and just before she climbs the steps to her front porch her mother Janie stops her.

“Hold it right there young lady! Don't you even think about bringing those muddy feet into my living room.” Her mom, being used to the 7 year old's antics was already waiting with some hot water in a large metal tub. Mom was inside washing their clothes over their wood burning stove. Trying to just stay clean in a world of constant rain was an on going chore. As usual Genie was a fountain of questions, a non stop question machine and Janie did her best to answer them to the best of her knowledge.

“Momma what's on the other side of the mountains?” Genie asked. “There's nothing. You see how the trees and grass stop when you get three fourths up the mountains. That's because there is no air up there.”
“No air!” Genie exclaims with her eyes so wide.
“No, no air and everything's got to have air to breathe. Now look around and you see we are surrounded by mountains on every side except to the wetlands. Not even the birds can leave the valley.”
“But they can fly momma!” Genie protested.
“They can't fly without air sweety.” Janie explained.
“Tommy Parker says that there's a nuther town over there on the other side” Genie informs her.
“Tommy Parker is only one year older than you. He's talking about the old days. Long before you and he were born and long before I was. Back in my great grandmother's day, before the rains came all the time. There was lots of people and birds could fly all around the world back then grandma told me.
“What was the name of the other town momma?” Genie asks.
“Let's see...What was it? Oh yes, Napa. They called it the Napa Valley and we all live in the Sonoma Valley. If you look way up on the side of the mountain you can see where a big road used to be and people could just ride or walk from our valley to theirs, but not anymore.”
“Why not?” Genie wants to know.
“Because you can't breathe up there silly.” Janie explains.
“What if you held your breath?” Genie asks.
“Nobody can hold their breath for that long. It can't be done.”
“Well how do you know that there's no more town over there?” Genie asks.
“Because of the rain sweety”. Janie explains, “The Napa valley was once mostly farm land. When the rains come they had no way out. We only have mountains on 3 sides and then the ocean for all the water to run off into but they didn't, so no doubt that town that used to be there is now underwater, just like the rest of the world. We are all that's left. Just us and the animals that live here in our valley.”
“Gosh!” Genie exclaimed and then they went into the house to have dinner completely unaware that there is a town just on the other side of the mountain filled with people who also think that their little town is the only refuge in a hostile world.
Janie was partially right. In order to rain moist air in the upper atmosphere is cooled down forming precipitation, but that requires the warmer air to rise to the higher atmosphere where the air is thinner and colder. This is what causes the wind to move, the constant interplay between the warmer and colder air, but in a world where there is no high pressure system but only lower pressure the level at which oxygen can rise is decreased dramatically, causing the mountain tops to become oxygen free zones and that is why the only people who will survive are those who live in the valley's. All mountain towns and cities would have to be abandoned. Each valley would become it's own island universe cut off from all other valley's that have no lower roads around the mountains or throughways and in many cases the rivers and lakes they set on will over flow and the water level rise causing them to live all around a huge lake with mountains on every side.
In time without any communication the valley towns would become island nations and all memory of life outside the valley would become myth. Each little valley would begin to develop it's own language as they began to become cut off from each other so the United States as it was once called would become more like Europe in which each village would develop it's own culture, language, dress, music and government.
And so little Genie will grow up like her mother Janie trapped in a living terrarium, where she will marry and have children and grow old and die never knowing that just on the other side of the mountains she once asked her mother about was another town that also believed that they were the only survivors of an apocalyptic world.

[Omen]

Whoa... This was educationally dramatic.

When I began, I felt the mother was lying to her child to suppress her wanderlust – when I read your explanation, I learned something new and creatively speaking, everything became that much more magic.

This indirectly explores the evolution of a community into a single-celled organism with very little hope for further change. The old ways – the old thoughts – the old memories will become the new footnotes for a village hungry for understanding and belief. I dare to say, these components are ripe to become the roots for a new religion.

On the larger scale of things, once again, quick tales such as this add depth to this unique and lonely world.

What made you come up with this?

-Omen

[John Reid]

Oh I just felt like writing something other than my current projects. It helps me creatively to step away from my project and just write something for fun. So I came here and said, I wonder if I can add a bit to this and here it is.

Of course this short little tale has potential for expansion. You could probably do a whole novel just on life in the two separated valley towns and then somehow they meet. What would happen? Probably war. That's what usually happens. Perhaps one becomes like Athens and the other Sparta.

Just food for thought

[The Muse]

Now I want to know....does it rain on the mountain tops? Has any part of the population gone underground in an attempt to reach the other towns, for the sake of exploring the outer areas? Or like the Morlocks in time machine did some go underground and develop a completely different civilization?

[John Reid]

No it no longer has any oxygen above the cloud level so it no longer rains on mountain tops. Currently as you know oxygen is very thin the higher you go, but in the world of all low pressure systems oxygen no longer reached above the mountain tops, they are essentially in space.

Yes I am sure that those trapped in valleys like the Napa valley would no doubt attempt to tunnel through the mountain to escape, but this world has been thrown back into the dark ages and there is no law, no government and thus no organizations to begin such a huge project. No electricity and constant thunderstorms limit even the most industrious.

Mostly in the beginning of the apocalypse people would just be trying to survive it. Fear of roaming bands of outlaws would also limit attempts to tunnel. People in the cities would have to abandon them and become nomadic. War and bloodshed would become everyday occurrences as people fought for whatever canned food remained.

People in the country like the family we just read about would fair better because they are used to a more self sufficient lifestyle. They know how to grow crops and fish and live far away from populated areas.

Perhaps when enough generations pass some form of government will start over and civilization will begin again and that is when people will attempt to explore what is left of their world and begin tunneling.

However by that time the valley on the other side of the mountain will have developed their own language, system of government and culture so that when the tunnel is completed and the two cultures meet no doubt it will be in fear of each other at first and war will ensue.

Just my two cents
John Reid

[John Reid]

Rayn's World


As early as the mid 1950's science tried to warn us that the earth was getting warmer. They knew this because of the ice core samples which revealed the world's weather patterns as far back 800,000 years. The earth it seems had very predictable warming and cooling patters. The research began as a way to try and predict when the next ice age would begin?

But something peculiar happened? Climatologists could plainly see that according to the history of our weather patterns we should already have begun our next ice age, but the reverse was occurring. The world was growing warmer, not colder. Why? Why was this happening?

The answer was rejected by all by a few climatologists at first. The answer was the greenhouse effect. Since the dawn of the industrial age man had begun burning fossil fuels in increasing amounts causing the atmosphere to contain increasing amounts of carbon. Sunlight could still get through but as it reflected off of the planet and tried to bounce back into space it ran into the carbon which bounced it back toward the earth effectively trapping an increasing amount of heat.

Ever so slowly the temperatures began to rise breaking world records each summer. The earth being tilted on it's axis causes it to have summer temperatures above the equator while having winter temperatures below the equator half the year and the reverse the other half. So as the summers got hotter more and more water vapor began to be evaporated into the atmosphere. Since hot wind rises and cold wind sinks the hotter the air the more rapidly the wind begins to move. All that increased moisture in the atmosphere blew into the winter hemisphere and caused record breaking snowfall, which fueled the skepticism of the ignorant about the reality of global warming.

When the temperature rose to 0.5 to 1 degree warmer the earth returned to the temperature that it was six thousand years ago. The American agricultural farmland became a dessert, first in Nebraska but then spreading to eastern Montana, Wyoming and Arizona. Then to Northern Texas and Oklahoma.

Dust and sandstorms turned day into night across thousands of miles of former prairie, farmlands, roads and even entire towns became engulfed in sand.

The one degree increase caused most of the fresh water to disappear from one third of the world's land surface. River banks dried up in increasing numbers. Desperate villagers looked out into baking mud instead of flowing water. The army was drafted into bringing precious water up the river by helicopter since the river level had sunk too low to be navigated by boat. The river in question was not some insignificant trickle in Sussex, it was the Amazon.

While tropical lands teteered on the brink the Arctic reached the tipping point of no return. Warming at the poles increased faster than on the rest of the planet resulting in the gradual elimination of the icecaps. At the same time the mountain glaciers also slowly but surely disappeared.

Permafrost that had been frozen for thousands of years turned into mud and lakes destabilizing whole areas as the ground collapsed beneath buildings, roads and pipelines.

Polar bears and Inuit disappear first in the north and penguins become extinct in the Antarctic due to the loss of their main food supply, krill which require the ice to breed in large numbers.

As the mountainous regions become unstable as the permafrost glue that held them together vanishes causing mud and rock slides which wipe out whole towns, on the opposite end of the scale, all low lying countries prepare to be submerged, islands are the first to go but not long after all coastal cities at first get bombarded with ever increasingly powerful hurricanes. Whatever is left of those cities is soon lost as the sea levels rise causing the submersion of every major coastal city on earth.

Out at sea the pace of the temperature rise is even faster because ice used to reflect back 80% of the sun's heat, now replaced with darker ocean waters which absorb 95% of solar radiation.

Most striking of all was seeing how people behaved once the veneer of civilization had been torn away. In New Orleans most victims were the poor and black, left to fend for themselves as the police either joined in the looting or deserted the area. Four days into the crisis, survivors were packed into the city’s Superdome, living next to overflowing toilets and rotting bodies as gangs of young men with guns seized the only food and water available.
Perhaps the most memorable scene was a single military helicopter landing for just a few minutes, its crew flinging food parcels and water bottles out onto the ground before hurriedly taking off again as if from a war zone. In scenes more like a Third World refugee camp than an American urban center, young men fought for the water as pregnant women and the elderly looked on with nothing.
This same scene of the complete breakdown of government and law and order began to occur all over the world.
The maps of our coastlines were forever changed. Once all of the ice melted the seas rose by 230 feet.

Florida and the entire eastern seacoast disappears beneath the waves. New Orleans is gone and in it's place a huge new gulf as extending as far north as Pine Bluff, Ark. Every major coastal city on earth is gone. In the US, Boston, New York, Charleston, Miami all gone. As well as every major coastal city in Europe, Asia, Africa, South America and Australia. The population of these cities, 20% of humanity, is forced to move inward causing a world wide refugee crisis.

Stockholm, Uppsala and Sodermanland sink into the Baltic Sea. Helsinki disappears along with major parts of the Finnish coast. The ridge of Jutland is about all that's left of Denmark. London and the coast of England no longer exists. The Caspian swells to such and extent that the majority of Kazakhstan and Russia are flooded. The majority of the Balkans have ended up in the sea. Estonia consists of islands. Berlin and the majority of Poland has been flooded. The Netherlands have sunk into the North Sea. Venice has sunk beneath sea along with the majority of Italy's coastline. The Crimea goes from peninsula to islands as the Black Sea swallows parts of the Ukraine, Bulgaria and Romania.

The warming oceans cause a mass extinction of nearly all sea life including sea plants which contribute greatly to our oxygen levels. This decrease in world wide amounts of oxygen lowers the amount found in the higher elevations causing mountain tops to become oxygen free zones.
The places on earth that used to receive lots of rainfall become desserts and those who were rain free are now flood zones. This wreaks havoc with all agriculture around the globe resulting in a major food shortage.

The total collapse of the world's governments brings about the rise of local warlords which attempt to control all remaining food and fresh water, both which become the new currency.
The loss of the ice caps causes more water evaporation than at any time in our history and that results in a nearly world wide cloud cover with the exception of the equator as the earth grows ever more Venus like. At the equator the sun evaporates even the clouds and that causes massive movement of air to the north and south resulting in almost continuous hurricanes and cyclones on the new coast lines, but falls as almost continuous rain everywhere else. At the equator the temperature exceeds 120 degrees the boiling point of water. No human beings can survive there and little else save for the most hardy species.
We are now looking at an entirely different planet. Former rainforests have become deserts and former permafrost areas near the poles have become rain forest. It is a world where individual survivalism is the norm.
The constant cloud cover is the only thing that prevents the world temperatures from continuing to rise until life itself as we know it becomes extinct.
The earth becomes a world of rain and into it is born a little girl, named Rayn. This is the world of Rayn.

[The Muse]

Wow!!! And THAT folks, is World building 101!
Mr. Reid just provided a shining example of how detailed Worldbuilding can magnificent set the stage for a story.

Well Done!!

[The Muse]

Sigh... And once again my phone makes me look stupid. The word was MAGNIFICENTLY.
*Sigh*
****Walks away grumbling about stupid technology***"

[Omen]

Oh...
My...
Goodness...

I gotta think about this.

Gim'me a minute - there aren't human words to describe the screaming within my mind.

I hafta digest this.

-Omen

[The Muse]

Hurry up already!!

Next chapter please!

[John Reid]

My First Umbrella
by John Reid


“Wake up Olivia, it's time to go!” Emma said. Olivia woke up on her feather bed and looked around. Her mother Emma was standing over her holding her oil lamp made from a gourd.

“What time is it?” Olivia said rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Time to get up!” Emma said, “It's morning!” You have to be told that as it was just as dark in Laurel Caverns by day as it was by night.

Emma rises and Emma pours some water from her bedside pitcher into the metal basin. Olivia hated washing up in the morning. The water from the spring in the cave was so cold, but she hurries through washing her face and body and drying with the homemade towels. She was lucky her mother Emma was so handy at weaving, but still the towel made from wool was far too scratchy to suit her. She also made all of their clothes by hand and Emma begins to lay them out for her to put on. First she puts on her inner slip which was made of plastic sheets they had obtained in the market from the plastic man. It kept her dry but it felt so hot and sticky. Around that came her wool skirt and blouse. At least the plastic kept the scratchy wool away from most of her body.

Emma, “Come on Olivia, we'll miss the caravan!”

So Olivia put on her wool jacket as Emma buttoned her up and then over all of that her plastic hooded raincoat. The one they got her last year when they made their caravan into Hopwood.

Olivia then joins her mother and they exit their stone home inside the cavern. She and her mother live alone now since her father passed on last year. He had been out helping his neighbors construct the natural wood bridge across the cavern when he slipped and fell to his death.

Natural bridges are composed of the roots of rubber trees. Rubber trees have strong flexible roots that grow out from the tree trunks. There was a wooden bridge that once spanned the cavern but the constant rain caused it to rot. Nomadic people from Brazil had migrated to Pennsylvania 50 years ago. No longer a land route between the two continents they made the hazardous trip through the straight of Panama via a boat which brought them and other families north, seeking cooler climates as it is impossible to live on the equator now. With them they brought the rubber trees, perfectly suited to live in the tropical lands of Pennsylvania.

By guiding the roots of the trees to grow through the wooden planks of the old bridge they succeeded in creating a living bridge across the chasm. The only kind of bridge that can survive the constant rain.

Once the town of Hopwood, Pennsylvania was a small town on the western base of Chestnut Ridge of the Alleghany Mountains, and Laura Caverns simply a tourist sight, but once the world changed the caves became a refuge from the constant onslaught of the battering winds and never ending rains and storms.

20 families made their way to the caves, not all of them made it. No law gave rise to roving bands of outlaws who killed, raped and pillaged the town and only those who fled into the woods survived and more than one got the same idea of taking up residence in Laura Caverns. Families encountered each other and decided that there was strength in numbers and that was how their tribe was born according to the story that Olivia's grandmother told them.

Once they reached the caverns everyone got to work constructing individual one room homes made of stones for each family. Space was no problem as there were 3 miles of caverns. It was a sandstone cave with ten to twenty foot high ceilings, a natural spring deep inside provided them with pristine water and bats were in abundance for food.

Nowadays though they no longer have to live on just bats. The original families started their own mushroom farms in there and everyone tends to it. Once the outlaws moved on the few folks left in Hopwood began to rebuild their community and today they have an open market where everyone comes once a month to trade. This is where Emma got the wool to make their clothes and where she will carry her bundle of mushrooms which she uses for currency to trade for other goods and supplies.

So today is market day and half the families in Laura Caverns will make the sojourn to Hopwood. The men open the gates. Those were constructed by the first families to move in here as well and are guarded by the men armed with bows and arrows and spears.

Outside the rain comes down continuously in sheets, sometimes it let up a little like right now but it hits in squalls every hour on the hour, so this is the time to leave if they want to survive the journey across the living bridge.

Olivia hated the rain. She and the other children play inside the caverns in the designated areas, so she pulls her blue plastic rain coat tightly around her so that only her seven year old face is showing. She huddles close to her mother Emma as she opens her umbrella. This was an all plastic umbrella that she had purchased in the market from the man that makes them five years ago.

“I have a surprise for you Olivia.” Emma said with a smile. “A surprise?” Olivia says with her eyes wide in expectation. “Yes, you are old enough now for your own umbrella.” “Wow! My own umbrella!” She exclaimed! “That's right. I'm going to purchase it today in the market from the umbrella man and if you take real good care of it, it should last you at least ten years.” Emma informs her. “Oh I will mother! I will! I promise!”

The thought of obtaining her own umbrella made Olivia smile from ear to ear as the caravan made the precarious journey down the cliff side. The woods were alive with all manner of plants, vines, trees, bushes and Olivia kept a sharp eye out for any animals. The only animals she ever got to see were bats, and all the cave crickets they played with.

“Oh what kind of birds are those mother?” Olivia asks as she sees a flock take off from the bush frightened off by the approaching caravan. “Those are Zebra finches Olivia.” Many birds did not survive the climate change but Zebra Finches thrived from it and were able to migrate far far north compared to their ancestors.

They keep pushing down the serpentine trail as the rain beats down on them and then come to the clearing. Unable to farm in valleys anymore since all valleys became lakes people learned how to do step farming, carving steps into the side of Chestnut ridge itself. Again the crops that grew here one hundred years ago would no longer survive in the tropical climate of modern Pennsylvania, so crops once farmed only below the equator now are farmed right here. Sugar cane, coffee beans, rice, yams and banana trees provide their community not only with food but also crops to trade when they travel to the market.

They approach the living bridge and Olivia looks at her mother. “This is where papa died isn't it mother?” “Yes Olivia,” she says quietly. “He gave his life so that we may all be able to cross the chasm.”

The root bridge that spans the chasm is strong and everyone takes off their rubber sandals and carries them as they begin to cross it so that their toes can get a better grip. They timed it just right between squalls. You definitely do not want to attempt to cross it when the winds are at their mightiest.

One by one they make their way across the root bridge and then to the path through the Forbes State forest. Just as Olivia gets across she sees a deer run across the road. “Oh mother! Did you see that?” “Yes it was a deer. Now put on your rubber sandals, the forest is filled with thorns.

Olivia put on her rubber sandals. Everyone wore them. There was a man in the market who made them from old tires. Olivia was outgrowing hers so Emma decided that if she could afford it she would try and get her a new pair while there.

It takes another 40 minutes for them to finally reach Hopwood. The town consists of a row of buildings and the market is set up in front. A long tarp is propped up on each side of the street so that the rain water all runs off the roofs and into the center of the road and not on the patrons. The street is downhill so the rain water all runs down the street and out of town.

Olivia sees a family of ducks sailing down the main street, a mother and her nine duckings. “Oh mother! Look baby ducks! Baby ducks!” “Yes I see them Olivia now stick close I have to barter.”

Luckily their mushrooms are a prized commodity and Emma is a master at bartering, so she manages to obtain both a new pair of sandals for Olivia and her first umbrella. “Oh can I have the pink one mother!” “Of course. It's your first umbrella.” Emma purchases it and Olivia opens it and holds it up over her head. Unable to wait to test it out she steps out into the knee deep water and then rain water pouring off the tarp makes a clacking noise as it bounces off her plastic umbrella. The umbrella man bought his plastic from the man who collects it and meticulously crafts each umbrella by hand.

“Look mother! It works! It works!” Olivia cries with glee. “Get back under this tarp this minute young lady before you lose one of your new sandals!”

Olivia obeys and after two hours at the market the caravan sets off for their home in Laurel Cave proudly under her first umbrella.

THE END

[The Muse]

*squeals with delight...*

Oh...its been too long since Rayne had updates, even if its set apart from the main storyline....

[johnreid]

I cut and pasted every chapter, created a title page and sent it to Michelle hoping to inspire Edward to finish it. I happen to think it is good enough to publish. I'd hate to see it just end up an unfinished product.

[The Muse]

You never know what might happen...it may end up as a web novel...

[Omen]

That concept is exciting. I'm looking over the story again to play catch-up for the next chapter.

[Omen]

Forever Rain: The Story of Rayn
Chapter 23 - The Rescue – Part 3

Moving in a zigzag to cross the street, shallow puddles were sheared into sharp splashes as Fatboy endeavored to free the unknown voices he heard in the locked room, at the back of Bain’s garage; he moved, obsessed, as if their pain was his.

He knew not, who they were.
He knew not, where they were from.
He knew not whether they would be friends or foes.
He simply knew, he had to help; for help was hope.

Hope was a rare jewel to come by. In this age of eternal tears, it offered a song of light as action dictated the words within each verse.

Fatboy slowed to a crawl, breathing hard, as he peeked through the side door window of the garage. Through the low light, we could see the moving silhouettes of Bain and Dale at the front of the bar. Easing through the door, while biting his lip, Fatboy shuffled along the back wall behind a clothes rack with mechanic jumpsuits, jean pants and well-worn shirts of different sizes. There was a, somewhat, well-kept motorcycle jacket protected by a clear trash bag, at the end of the rack. He figured, it had to be Bain’s. Underneath the clothes, on the floor, he noticed a small box of the very same trash bags as the one protecting Bain’s motorcycle jacket, along with duct tape, and rope.

He then quietly shifted next to the desk and noticed the flashlight, Bain normally carried in his cargo pocket, at the back of the tabletop. A quick whip of his hand, a snatch of the flashlight, and a mischievous smile, was all but karma adding to this adventure.

Struggling to maintain his balance against the grease stains on the floor, Fatboy traversed the short hallway leading to the locked door at the back of the garage. Voices murmured behind the padlocked door. A keyring hanging from a large nail on the side wall boasted a collection of keys to be tested against the lock.

Fatboy tried. Each key failed.

Refusing to accept the failure, Fatboy whispered the name of a god, ‘Thor’.

Pulling from the back of his belt, Cory’s hammer answered his request. Fatboy gripped the hammer and returned his focus to the padlock. Wrapping a cloth from the floor, around the padlock, mythology became reality as Fatboy struck the padlock forcing it to release its clutch, aiding those seeking to be free.

The storm outside suppressed the echo of the strike. Thor spoke and the storm answered. The youth, acting as a man, gave thought to the pretty woman with braided hair and smiled.

“Once again, Rayn knows how to pick friends.” He allowed himself to accept, as he eased into the darkened room.

The whiff of musk was but a cough away from pungent. Low-light was supplied by a nearly depleted candle on a bedroom dresser, placed against the wall by the entrance. In fact, the top of the dresser was littered with depleted candles, covering the entire desktop with hardened wax. The buildup of wax along the floor and wall around the cabinet made each step into the room, a task to be aware of.

“Please…” a broken voice screeched out in a low tone.

Pushing the door near-closed, behind him, Fatboy activated the flashlight and responded, “Who are you?”

Another voice, weaker than the first, bounced from the corner, “Their going to be back soon. You have to get us out of here. Please, sir… please, get us out of here. They’re going to kill us!”

Fatboy moved his light from one end of the small room to the other end. He made a brief tally of the prisoners before him – a teenage girl, an older woman, and some guy.

The room was shaped like an ‘L’, with three large cages, holding each person separately. Each person had a tin plate near the front of their cell space. Small bits of fruit and rat-meat gathered around the edges of the young girl’s plate; for she refused to eat either.

Located at the back of each cage, were buckets. Fatboy’s face churned in the greyed shadows, “toilets?”, he questioned. “Crappers.” He responded – he answered his own question.

“Hey kid hurry! Those psychos will be back to light another candle. Get us out of here! The keys are on a ring outside the door.” Softly yelped, the man in the cage on the far side of the room.

Displaying the ring of keys in his hand, Fatboy scurried over to his cage to test the keys. An acute click and pull freed the man from his prison. Hurriedly, he rested his hand on Fatboy’s shoulder, “Thank you! Thank you. Go free the others. There’s another member of our group being held around the corner. I’ll go get him.”

Fatboy rushed to the other cages and unlocked each as the sharp chant of ‘Thank you’ became a lullaby of strength.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!!” broke the whispers in the room as it blasted from the side space the man rushed to.

The group pressed over to the space behind Fatboy, only to find the source of the call-out. A small boy sitting on a dirty bed mat, crouched in the corner, stared away from the older man shivering. The man shifted to Fatboy, “Use your key, remove his shackles. We have to go.”

Confused, the vigor within the man’s voice moved Fatboy to action as his head shifted between the man and the boy. His trust for the man was now less, but the boy needed to be saved. Twisting the key into the shackle became a short challenge as the boy continued to pull away while shivering.

The man turned to the teen girl, “Penelope, go watch the door! That idiot, Dale, may be back to bring another candle.”

Penelope scurried over to the door, with a slight limp, and leaned slowly to peer into the hallway. She turned back to the man, “The hallway is clear, Mr. Kirby.”

Stepping back from the boy, Fatboy directed the beam of illumination from his flashlight onto the pre-teen boy. The kid stood wobbly. He was all but naked, wearing nothing more than a small dirty t-shirt. The older woman approached him, seeking to hug him only to receive a shirk away from her touch. It took a keen moment, but the embrace became welcomed. The boy’s shivering stopped.

“We need to get this boy some clothes. Can you lead us out of here? We don’t know this area.” Said the woman, peering at Fatboy.

“uh… yes, ma’am.” He answered while studying the bruises on the pre-teen in her arms.

Leading the group to the door, Fatboy paused. “I have some friends helping me, we need to wait for their signal.” Mr. Kirby pushed back, “Look kid we can’t wait. We’ve gotta go.”

“I understand.” Responded Fatboy as a series of muffled voices and knocks can be heard above the room. Stealing a moment of thought, he spoke softly, “Please, be safe, Rayn.”

The group shimmied down the short passageway, heading back to the garage. Fatboy poked his head out to study the bar area, then signaled Mr. Kirby to share what he was viewing. Bain and Dale were still in bar in a conversation. Suddenly the duo turned their attention to the sounds and light smoke crawling down from the second floor. Bain shouted out, calling for Bird. He then pulled his revolver from his holster and charged towards the stairs with Dale following behind.

Fatboy turned to Mr. Kirby, “You have to get your people out of here, sir! Go out the side door and cut across the street to the old movie theatre… it’s called, The Athens. My friends will be there waiting for all of you. They’ll take you to our safe space!”

“What are you going to do?” questioned Mr. Kirby.

“I’m going to slow them down, Mr. Kirby.” Said Fatboy squinting with a determined posture. Grasping Cory’s hammer resolute, “I have Thor and Rayn. I’ll be alright. Get them to the theatre!”

He then turned to the older woman behind Mr. Kirby, “There are clothes for the boy, on the clothes rack near the door. If you get a chance, can you please snatch the motorcycle jacket on your way out?”

Puzzled for but a moment, the woman, hugging the boy, delivered a solemn smile to Fatboy, “I’ll clothe the boy and get you Bain’s jacket. Just make sure you make it back to us.”

“Yes, ma’am” said Fatboy as the group separated from him.

[The Muse]

Fatboy is all grown up.