I went back to cleaning the area. When I heard him speak again, I knew I hadn’t imagined it.
I paused. “Am I hurting you? Are you in a lot of pain?”
I had some ginger stored away that I’d managed to grow over the summer. That might help him.
Before I could get up to get it, he whispered, “…sorry.”
“What?”
“Rain,” he rasped weakly. When he didn’t move or speak again, I thought maybe he’d passed out.
The rain? What about the rain?
And then the pieces of this jagged puzzle slipped together, knocking free a memory. Something Dad had told me a long time ago. That there were some people out there who carried the virus, but didn’t fully turn. That whenever the red rains came, they would go into some kind of frenzy, like the nearness of the virus was agitating their own infection, augmenting it somehow.
Was this…was he one of those? Was he carrying the virus and this happened because it was raining?
Sorrow for him enveloped me in a cold, heavy shroud. He’d been through so much, was still going through it. I didn’t know where he’d come from or what, exactly, he’d experienced, but it was obvious that it wasn’t good.
He hadn’t had a life like mine, but…but hecouldhave it. The strongest desire to give him that hummed through my veins, and I made a promise to his sleeping form that I would take care of him. I would give him everything he’d never had.
After I finished bandaging his shoulder, I quickly cleaned my forearm and wrapped it up.
He looked so small right now. So vulnerable. The need to protect him—even from himself—had me climbing up on the bed and lying beside him.
When his breathing evened out, I set my hand on his chest. I rested my head above his, feeling his heart beat and his chest rise and fall as he slept.
The terror in his eyes had made me feel so helpless. I wanted to protect him, to help him through whatever this was, to make him feel like he wasn’t alone. I didn’t want him to be afraid, would never forget the fear in his eyes as he tried to fight against whatever was consuming him.
I couldn’t even begin to understand what it was like to have that virus running through my veins, to be subjected to those awful symptoms every time it rained.
My fingers brushed against the metal of the chain attached to his collar, and an unfamiliar emotion swelled in my chest, something sharp and visceral that blazed through me. I’d never let the ones who did this to him near him again, and if they ever came here, I’d kill them.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, unsettled by the strength of these extreme emotions roiling inside me.
It was clear he didn’t want to be the way he was. That he was sorry for hurting me. It saddened me that he had to go through this at all.
I nudged my nose into his hair, unable to smell the soap I’d used to wash him that first day. He could use another bath, especially after that.
Maybe he’d enjoy a trip to the waterfall?
I pressed a kiss to his head. We’d go tomorrow then.
I’d let him sleep as long as he needed, and then we’d go to the river. But before that, I’d travel to the nearest town and pray I could find some copper wire.
I closed my eyes and let myself be soothed by the steady rhythm of his breathing.
I was so grateful he’d found his way here.
It finally felt like I had some kind of purpose, like I could do something that actuallymeantsomething—and that was a feeling I never wanted to lose.
Chapter 8
Three/Bowen
Everything was red, and it was all my fault.
I was ashamed. Exhausted. Afraid. I didn’t know what to do with these feelings and I didn’t want them.
