When the rains may come (Science Fiction)

13. Back to square one

"Tell us, Dr. Neville, why did this tragedy occur to our dear sectors?" the news reader on the radio said.

"It has to be the hand of our enemies," the guy pretending to be Neville said. "A rain like this doesn't just occur in nature on its own."

"But how could something like this be created by mere humans?"

"I don't think it really matters how it was created. We have seen in the past decade of strafing what the enemies are capable of. The Republic of Vardin–the cornerstone of culture that it flaunts itself to be--is nothing but a brewery of machinations. Their military ally, Moudrin, is no less of a threat. The same Moudrin whose expatriates and emigrants we took in eighty years ago when it de-colonized. And they keep inventing these means of destruction. First the dandelion fever and now this–"

Marie slammed a fist on the radio and turned it off. "What a load of crap." She sneered under her gas mask. "None of them created the rain and that's not Neville speaking."

The mention of real Dr.Neville not being around made Clint swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "N-No, it isn't."

Next Marie slammed down on the steering wheel. "Stupid piece of crap! This damn clunker has run out of gas at the right moment!"

Clint put a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, honey." He pointed at the backseat where Zack had fallen asleep. "Let's just get out and find a place to squat for a while," he whispered.

Marie frowned before nodding. Clint gently lifted the boy into his arms and Marie took Zack's backpack along with her own. It was nearing dawn. Orange sunlight was peeking over purple clouds. Dead, shriveled trees stood bald and withering.

The slight scraping their boots made against the road sounded like chalk grating against a blackboard in an empty classroom. The hiss of their respirators was shrill like the wind inside a hollow bamboo.

They'd driven for eight hours straight in which Clint had managed to doze off here and there but Marie was vigilant throughout the journey. Her eyes were wide awake, yet her face under the visor of her mask was a bit long from the fatigue.

Clint shuffled a bit closer to her as they kept walking. "Are you okay?" He frowned in concern.

Marie knit her eyebrows and rolled in her lips. She kept looking ahead.

"You didn't sleep all night. And also, there wasn't any music on the radio," He said with a slight smile. "I'm seriously worried that you didn't even complain once that there wasn't any music. You used to get so cranky back during our road trips." He blushed a little. "You used to look so adorable when you did."

Marie looked at him only to find him shyly smiling away. She couldn't help but smile herself, despite everything that had transpired in the past twenty four hours. She shuffled closer to him too and linked her arm into his. "I'm more glad that we made it alive before the rains."

Clint nodded. "I hope Cathy and...Neville's wife did too." He looked up at the sky. "Do you think we'll meet her again? Cathy must've gotten on that plane with the lady."

"Does it really matter that they did?" Marie said. "I'm just glad to think that they managed to survive it all."

Zack stirred a bit in Clint's arms. Clint patted the boy on his back as if soothing him back to sleep. "You're right. There's no point in dwelling on that plane thing again," he said. "It wasn't meant for us anyway."

Marie gave a strained nod. She absently rubbed Clint's arm as they walked down the empty street.

Clint licked his lips, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked ahead. "I-Is now the right time to talk about...what you asked earlier?" he said. "About Nick?"