Out of the Blue Part II: Into the Fray-Chapter 5

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Out of the Blue Part II: Into the Fray-Chapter 5
By Drew Miller

A seemingly ordinary desert sunrise reinfuses Karen Shaw with hope and the determination to prevail.


Chapter 5

When Hicks awoke after some well earned rest, after being “behind the wheel,” so to speak for so long, I was huddled in the corner, clutching my knees close to my chest. I was shaking, but this time it wasn’t because I was scared.

“Karen,” began Hicks. “Are you crying?”

I said nothing, but I must have greeted him with terrified eyes, for he rushed over before he had a chance to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes.

He knelt down and grasped my hand.

“You are crying,” he said. “What’s gotten you all shaken up? Did you run into a snake or something?”

I shook my head.

“Just feel my forehead,” I suggested.

“Jesus Karen! You’re burning up.”

“I…” I began. “I think Sissy was right. I think she was right to leave me here.”

Holding up my chin, Hicks softly said, “Hey…Let’s not jump the gun here. It might be nothing. It might just be a cold.”

“Or it might be…”

I shuddered and then the floodgates seemed to open. I started sobbing.

“I don’t want to end up like the others Hicks,” I pleaded. “I’m scared…I’m just so scared right now.”

“You won’t end up like the others Karen,” insisted Hicks.

I remained silent while Hicks traded his hopelessly inadequate words for something more helpful from his pack.

“Here,” he urged. “Take these.”

I swallowed the aspirin, but it felt like they were more of a placebo than Hicks’ earlier default reassurances.

It turns out my feelings were right. The rest of the day is really hazy, even hazier than my recollections of what it used to be like as Eric Campbell.

I suffered through one onslaught of fever and chills after another; even worse was the onslaught of bad dreams in between…or hallucinations. I wasn’t sure.

I don’t remember all of them, but the one that stuck with me like the scar on my shoulder was a nightmare as real and tangible as the hard and unforgiving rock walls of the abandoned mine.

I found myself back in my city of residence, only it was deserted. Haphazardly parked abandoned cars were strewn on streets like bodies.

Strangely enough, I was wearing the unisex “one size fits all” drab clothing from the psychiatric facility. I shuffled down the middle of one side-street after another in my slippers, but all I found was more nothing, as if I were wandering down one empty cave passage after the other.

It felt so real, so horrifyingly real. What also felt real was a familiar sounding whisper carried on the whistling wind.

Help me Karen. Help me.

Somehow I knew where it was coming from and I was instinctively drawn back to my apartment. And the closer I got the more quiet desperation I heard in that meek voice.

Please help me! You’re the only one who can.

I rushed up the stairs and down the hall, desperate to try and save this one lone anonymous survivor.

“Damn it!” I cried out. “No keys!”

I kicked open the door to my apartment. I stepped across the threshold and followed the pleas into my bedroom. But when opened the door, I found myself back in that damn psychiatric hospital. And it seemed as deserted as the streets of my once vibrant city.

“Hello!” I shouted. “Where are you?”

But there was just deafening silence. Then, I bolted past the nurse’s station, toward the end of the hallway. That’s when I heard it, not that quietly imploring whisper of a voice, but a slow and steady beeping.

When I burst into one of the patient rooms where it was emanating from, I witnessed a pitiful sight that brought me to tears. There was Alice, as pale as she was still. I walked over and grasped her hand.

“Alice…Alice. Can you hear me? It’s Karen honey. I'm here.”

But the only reply was the damned beeping of that heart rate monitor. Soon, my maternal instincts kicked in. I frantically searched the room for something…anything that I could use to comfort my poor friend. I searched the drawers but found only the liner. I looked in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, but the only thing I found was the cold and sterile light from the fluorescent bulbs.

Then, I opened Alice’s eyes, but I found no signs of recognition.

But before I could break down crying, an abrupt tapping on my shoulder caused my heart rate to skyrocket as if someone from beyond the grave had grabbed my arm.

“Karen,” said one of the nurses from the psychiatric facility. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“What?”

“You know you’re too weak to be out of bed,” she said sternly.

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I need to be by Alice’s side right now.”

“No, you don’t,” ordered the nurse. “You’re in a weakened state and you’re helpless. You’re weak and helpless Karen and there’s nothing you can do. She’s in God’s hands now.”

I scoffed, and turned my attention back to Alice, ignoring the nurse. But what I saw was more frightening than that abrupt tap on my shoulder.

Instead of Alice lying in bed, it was me, and I was just as helpless. With searching and imploring eyes, I confronted the nurse once more. However, she didn’t even favor me with a gaze; instead, she glided past me as if I was rush hour traffic to be avoided.

“Bitch!” I hissed. “Don’t you ignore me…don’t you dare!”

I waived my hand in front of her expressionless eyes, but my efforts were like a keycard that stubbornly refuses to be accepted.

“I’m here!” I cried out. “I’m still here. Why can’t you hear me? Why don’t you see me?”

But the only thing she acknowledged at that moment was the steadily slowing rate of beeping coming from the heart rate monitor.

Playing the role of comforter, she grasped my hand…I mean the me who was lying in bed as still as a corpse.

“Time to wake up Karen,” she whispered in a tone as soft as silk. Tapping my shoulder, she began speaking more insistently. “Wake up Karen. Be a good girl and wake up.”

She started gently shaking the limp version of me, but oddly, it was if her hands were on me. Now it felt like I was starting to have a near death experience. I know it’s clichéd, but the room started to fade as if I was severely near-sighted and had just removed my glasses. Then the room dimmed like a candle that was slowly being snuffed out. And then I was floating in the darkness, but throughout there was that sensation of being shaken.

As it turns out, I wasn’t headed for the bright light at the end of the tunnel. I traded my helpless vantage point in the hospital room for a new vantage point in the corner of the dimness that was the end of the abandoned mining tunnel. I also traded my fear and desperation for a numb feeling of indifference, a feeling that was as mind numbingly soothing as the hiss of static from an old useless television set.

Hovering above and near my body, I witnessed but no longer felt Hicks insistently shaking my limp body. But suddenly, as if I were attached to an elastic tether stretched to its limit, I was flung back towards myself at what felt like light speed.

I opened my eyes to the sight of that terrified look on Hicks’ face melting into a relieved smile.

“Welcome back,” he said.

“Did I go somewhere?”

He shook his head. “No, but for a little while, I…”

“How long was I out for?” I interjected.

“For about ten hours…but it felt longer,” he replied.

“It felt like minutes to me…some of the longest minutes of my life.”

Hicks furrowed his brow.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I said, with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “What happened to my hand? It’s all red and itchy…And my face…It itches like crazy! Hicks, I need your mirror.”

“You might want to hold off on that right now.”

“Great,” I said. “I look that bad, huh?”

“Ummm…” began Hicks. “You don’t quite have your usual perfect complexion at the moment.”

“I still want to take a look,” I insisted. “I’d rather get over the shock right now.”

“Alright,” he relented. “Here, hold this.”

He handed me the cool wet rag he was holding in his right hand and shuffled on over to his pack in the opposite corner of our abode. I dabbed it on my cheeks, keeping the itchy irritation somewhat at bay.

Hicks handed me the mirror and I winced as my face came into full view.

“Ooh…” I said, cringing as if I’d caught sight of my own blood. “Now I know how my mom felt…Great! Just what I needed…shingles. I mean, WTF Hicks? I guess it must have been all of the stress.”

“Probably,” agreed Hicks.

Forcing a laugh, I conceded, “It’s kinda funny. I never thought I’d be so happy to see a rash all over my body. In a way, I guess I’m one of the lucky ones if this is the worst of my problems.”

Hicks remained silent, only smiling in agreement with my “glass half full” take on things.

Then I said, “God, what I wouldn’t give to dip my body in a bath of aloe vera right about now.”

“I’ve got some caladryl,” offered Hicks.

“That was my second choice!” I said. “Could you get my back first?”

After a subtle nod, Hicks began applying the balm to the itchy collage of irritated red skin that was my back.

“Ohhh!” I exclaimed. “That feels exquisite!”

I was experiencing so much relief that I suppressed a shiver.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Inquired Hicks.

“No, not at all. Please keep going,” I urged. As Hicks continued going about his work with that gentle touch of his, I remarked, “You know, the last time I was this itchy was when I had Chicken Pox.”

“How old were you?” was Hicks casual inquiry.

“Old enough to vividly remember how much the timing sucked.”

“How so?” he wondered.

“Well, for starters, it was the first week of summer vacation. And while all of the other kids were hitting the pool, I was holed up inside applying calamine lotion when I should have been applying sunscreen.”

“I’m sorry,” replied Hicks.

“Well, that’s life for you. It throws you a curve ball every now and again. Anyway, my new swim trunks just sat on my dresser collecting dust for most of June.”

“Swim trunks?” wondered Hicks with furrowed brow.

Whoops!

“Did I say trunks? Oh, silly me. I meant bathing suit. I must still be a little delirious…So, what about you Hicks? What’s your Chicken Pox story?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” but I never had Chicken Pox.

“You lucky dog you,” I teased.

“I was lucky enough to get the vaccine, and so far…fingers crossed…it hasn’t had a chance to slow me down.”

“No,” I began, “now you’ve got me to slow you down,” I said only half-jokingly.

“I think the heat is slowin’ us down more than anything at the moment,” he asserted.

I turned toward him and smiled.

“Here,” he said, “let me get the last bit on your face for you.”

As he gently dabbed here and there, I closed my eyes and relished the cool relief. But now, I was imagining him slowly brushing his finger across the soft skin of my face, tracing out every feminine curve with one fluid caress.

When I opened my eyes, I forgot myself for a few moments, for I gazed lovingly into his eyes, and so did Hicks, but not for long. His face recoiled before his hand followed suit.

“That outta give you some relief for while,” he said in a deflated tone.

“Okay. Thanks. I feel tons better.”

Hicks simply nodded before saying, “I guess I better go stand watch while you rest and get your strength back.”

I managed a nod as weak as my body was.

Three long days later, Sissy was as good as her word.

“Rise and shine!” announced Hicks, as he jogged his way toward me.

“You’re certainly chipper this morning…or…or whatever damn time it is.”

“Karen,” he began, “I hope you’re up for some more traveling, because just like General Macarthur, she has returned.”

I stretched my back and yawned before favoring Hicks with a reply.

“And?”

“And we’re checking the hell outta this place…that is unless you have any objections,” he replied.

“I’m not the one who might have any objections,” I said in a cold monotone.

“Look,” said Hicks in a weary tone. “I explained your situation to Sissy and…”

Before he could finish, a familiar voice cut him off.

“And she knows you’re outta the woods,” said Sissy, moseying on in out of the shadows.

“Jesus!” said Hicks. “How about a knock next time instead of sneaking up on us like that.”

“I didn’t realize I needed an invitation,” was her casual reply.

After surprising us like the prey of a stealthy big cat, she began sizing me up.

“Ahh,” she began, “So this is the good news Hicks was talking about.”

“I suppose being a leper has its advantages…Of course, it beats the alternative,” I said drolly.

With eyes as soft as the lantern light she said, “I for one am just glad you’re still with us Karen.”

Still scratching, I said, “I’m sure I’ll share that sentiment soon.”

“Well,” said Sissy, glancing back at Hicks. “I’ll give you two a few more minutes to get packed up and ready. But don’t take too long. If we’re going to make it back to the ranch by daybreak, we need to get a move on.”

After she was out of earshot, or so I hoped, the corners of my mouth crinkled up as I channeled my inner teenage smartass.

“I don’t suppose I should hold my breath waiting for Sissy to admit she was wrong…about getting the virus I mean.”

Hicks shook his head. “As she’s fond of saying, ‘that’s a long wait for a bus that don’t come.’”

“And another thing,"I added. "I feel like I’m being ordered around. All she has to do is ask nicely. It’s hard enough as it is being stuck out here in the middle of nowhere and on the lamb.”

Crossing his arms, Hicks sighed and continued gazing into my eyes with a blank expression on his face.

“I know,” I conceded. “I know. Maybe I need a little cheese with my whine.”

Hicks smiled and walked over.

“Here,” he said. “Let me give you a hand with your stuff…And cheer up Karen. You won’t have to tough it out for much longer. Soon you’ll be able to take a nice cool bath and have a soft bed to lay in.”

“That does sound pretty good right about now,” I confessed. “I suppose I can tough it out in this little army of hers for a little while longer.”

And it was tough. The ride back to Sissy’s desolate homestead was tough like the emerging calluses on my hands. The uneven terrain was tough on my sore back and shoulders. The parched desert wind was tough on my scaly skin and bloodshot eyes. And worst of all, straddling that gently swaying horse as it made its way over the baked undulating terrain was tough on my itchy raw thighs. It was like one layer of soreness heaped upon the other. And that was just the first half.

The second half was sheer misery. And instead of giving in to the temptation to incessantly ask Hicks if we were “there” yet, I wanted to ask, “could you please knock me out if the answer to that question is no?”

But just when I began thinking that "Dune" was a more appropriate name for the state of Nevada, Sissy eased her horse to a halt and dismounted. Hicks followed suit.

Sissy strolled up alongside us and leaned against our horse. Then she motioned with her head.

“Are we there?” I wondered, peering through the early twilight.

“Almost,” said Sissy.

I said, “Then I guess I’d better stay up here. If I climb off this beast, I don’t think I’ll be able to get back on.”

“Trust me,” added Hicks. “The view is worth it.”

“Alright,” I relented. “Help me down Hicks.”

Now I knew how hospital patients felt after their surgery. With weak knees and rubbery legs, Hicks escorted me toward the brightening above the mountains beckoning in the distance.

A small valley came into view when we neared the edge of a bluff.

Sissy stood motionless for a few moments as she surveyed what seemed like just another flat expanse of nothingness.

But in a reverent tone she said, “There it is. Now that the sun is just below the mountaintops, you can just barely catch sight of it…Take a look,” she advised.

I stared in the direction she was pointing.

“You mean that?” I asked incredulously.

“Uh-huh,” said Sissy.

I couldn’t understand why Sissy had such a special place in her heart for this place. All I could make out were two unremarkable structures that looked more like pixels in an overblown image, one of them probably being the barn. And other than a windmill of the kind ubiquitous in farm country, there wasn’t much else.

“Ummm,” I began. “How much longer till we get there?” I inquired.

“Very soon,” she said in almost a whisper. “But first you need to see something…something that’s very special to me.”

We watched the sunrise. But it wasn’t just another sunrise to be filed away and forgotten like so many countless others. When the suns rays spilled over the mountain tops and drenched the valley with golden light and rich valley hues sprung back up from retreating dead shadows, I knew this sunset would be one I would never forget. Up until this point, the sun had been our greatest foe, an adversary that was even more unforgiving than the military, a military that was ironically able to extend its search beyond the reach of the sun’s rays. Now these same stinging rays offered hope. Now it was lighting our way to sanctuary.

Hicks walked over and put his hand around Sissy.

“I forgot how beautiful it is at sunrise,” said Hicks in that same reverent tone.

“It sure is,” I whispered. “It sure is.”


To Be Continued...

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Comments

TIme to move on?

I think that after I finish this story I will move on to other fiction genres. Now that I'm well into my transition from mtf and actually living and struggling with what characters have gone through in some of the wonderful stories on Big Closet, I have very little interest in reading or writing tg fiction anymore. So, I am going to switch things up by posting stories on wattpad.com and other story sites while continuing to try and attract the attention of literary agents. Hopefully, they will be more interested in a future work of mine. But for now, I'll have to go the self publishing route because the market is so very saturated with new authors struggling to rise above the white background noise. I suppose a good metaphor is a firefly furiously flashing away in front of a search light. I've a got a long road ahead and seemingly no road map to get there. But that's life for you.

Cheers,

Drew

Only You Know How you Feel

For my part, I've certainly been enjoying this series.

That means a lot.

That's why I've continued to post new chapters. Once again, thanks for taking the time to let me know how you feel.

Cheers,

Drew