Vanishing Rain (Blue Spectrum Chronicles Book 2)

Vanishing Rain (Blue Spectrum Chronicles Book 2) by L.L. Crane Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Vanishing Rain (Blue Spectrum Chronicles Book 2) by L.L. Crane Read Free Book Online
Authors: L.L. Crane
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

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