To Kiss A Corpse Goodbye

18 - 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐃

Rainmaker had found her again, and when she woke, she'd been pulled back to their little hideout from before. He didn't want her to outrun him, it seemed. She wasn't entirely sure how that happened, just that it had, and that she had to deal with it. Her stomach hurt less, though. Whether Rainmaker had eaten from the tree or not, he didn't seem quite so lacking in energy. Though they were both far more sick.

They both bore pale faces and sunken eyes. Hair like straw and teeth so yellow they must have been made entirely of their own plaque.

Adelaide didn't speak of the tree, or her excursion. Neither did he. The both of them were content to be quiet about it forever, it seemed. Adelaide's hands were scratched, and it had become harder to ball up a fist or pick up items. Things slipped from her fingers– mostly unimportant things now. There wasn't much worth holding onto in the wastes. Rainmaker had tied her briefcase around one hand, by looping some discarded cloth around the handle, and tied her cross necklace around the other.

In turn, when Rainmaker had to stop between steps to heave, she held his hair out of his face, and pulled him along no matter how delirious he became. It was a mutual benefit, most certainly. Even if somewhat humiliating for the both of them. To be so utterly folded by their sickness in this horrid world, reliant on each other, was a rather unenviable position.

As they walked, Rainmaker seemingly couldn't stop himself from asking about Jisako. "What was she like? Would she want you to die here? Was she vengeful? Was she religious?" And Adelaide felt more strongly than ever the hairless part of the equation she'd previously put together about him. Because, there was nothing like radiation poisoning that worked to remind her that though he was a child, Rainmaker was still a grown man. And an annoying one. An ass that annoyed her.

She'd become short with him and snapped at him. "She's dead! Unless you plan to defile her corpse, I don't see what's so interesting about her!"

So he had retreated into himself and had not asked anything about Jisako again. Adelaide had felt some satisfaction in the moment, though the silence eventually began to drive her mad again. She basked in her victory, at first, but then she went realizing too late she still hadn't changed. "I'm too snappy," she admitted.

"You yelled. But I was being pokey," he replied. "So it's even."

"...If you really want to know about her life, you'll have to tell me about yours," Adelaide noted. "Equal exchange."

"It's very fair," Rainmaker nodded, volunteering absolutely no information.

"So you plan to do it?"

He shook his head. "Not right now. With how bad my head hurts, I'd probably just start crying. And well, you know."

"And boys don't cry?" Adelaide quirked a brow. Almost a bit teasing. Forrest had been that way about things.

"We do. But not in front of strange women."

She at least found that answer unique enough to be amusing, in its own childish way. Not perhaps the most investing answer, of course, but she appreciated what it was.

"Think of me as a replacement mother," Adelaide joked.

Rainmaker snorted, making a face of clear disgust in regards to the idea. Though he didn't get to comment on it, because he was soon once again double over, attempting to empty stomach. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing inside that stomach, so the only thing he could do was be in rather horrible pain. All that escaped him was bile. The smell permeating the air, creating yet another foul odour to be endured.

Adelaide couldn't decide if that was because he hadn't been eating much, or because he'd thrown up just about everything else that was in his system. Either way, she was the one holding his hair back– not that either of them were clean enough for that to be noteworthy. By this point, it was just a formality she was doing for the sake of making him feel a little better. As good as he could feel while losing the entirety of his stomach contents to the ground below.