The Redding is a sinister force that captures and controls anyone it knows by name. Meg and her fellow survivors navigate a delicate balance of survival using nicknames and newfound communication methods, until they discover the rain can communicate...
The Redding all around us flies back like Patrick hit it with a shockwave. Most of it flees downhill, and the rest slithers into the soil with alarming alacrity. There in the forest is Calico J. I'm at his side in seconds. He's not moving. My CPR training kicks in, but my newest revelation crosses wires with it and presents me with a new possibility. Out, I drum against Calico J's back. His body convulses in a coughing fit. What comes up isn't blood, but it passes for it. I repeat the command, then rub his back while he coughs it out. By the time it subsides, Ditzy has joined Patrick and hugged her knees beside him. I think she's crying again.
Patrick has his arms over his head. I didn't check him properly, but if he had the presence of mind to use Morse code, he's probably uninjured. In no other way is he fine.
"Meg?"
My attention snaps back to Calico J. He's with me now, and I help him sit up. He's no more okay than the other two.
At least he's coherent. "What did you do?" he says.
"Talked to it."
He just looks at me, uncomprehending.
I don't know how to explain without a demonstration, so I find a plate-sized pool of Redding that's snuck towards us again and drum leave on the ground towards it. It zooms backwards and vanishes into the soil.
Calico J's expression doesn't change. Given that he's both in shock and terrified, I'm not surprised. He eyes me fearfully. "Are you..."
His nerve fails, so I finish, "Still okay?"
He nods.
"As far as I'm aware, yes. And given that I'm aware at all, I'll take that as a good sign."
He taps the back of his neck and nods to mine. "It's bigger."
My hand flies to the red patch. I can trace it by its edges, which feel tender, borderline sore. It's nearly doubled in size. That means it really was spreading like I felt underwater, and I think it's stopped. I check again compulsively. Then I run an inventory of my mental functions to determine if I'm losing any. Being tired, bruised, and recently near-drowned does not help.
Calico J's voice brings me back. "It listens to you."
"And Patrick. Him way more than me, though."
"Why?"
"I'm trying not to ask that until we're safe. Do you need a hand?"
He does, so I reunite us with the others. I wish I had something warm to cover any of them. I wish we had our bags. The air feels like October, and even the retreat of the Redding has left my bra cold and my pants damp enough to cling. My exposed stomach and shoulders prickle with goosebumps. But we're far enough south that I'm not at risk of hypothermia, so I've got more important things to attend to. Patrick is curled up even tighter than before, rocking back and forth. Ditzy is watching him. She glances up when I crouch in front of her.
"Are you hurt?" I say.
She shakes her head, then points towards Patrick.
"Is he?" I say, as alarm refreshes my adrenaline.
"I don't know." Her voice comes out in a whisper. She hugs her knees and looks at me with tear-damp, pleading eyes. "Can you help him?"
A memory jolts me. I've seen Ditzy like this one more time than I've always remembered.
It was when we first found Patrick. When we watched him get pushed off a bridge in Chesnet by whatever asshole he'd been sheltering with at the time. I looked back to find Calico J panicked and Ditzy standing frozen with the same expression she wore when we first found Vix. Scared—terrified—and helpless.
Ditzy cracks like this when she doesn't know what to do. It dawns on me so clearly, I'm stunned I've never thought of it before. She maintains a mask of confidence when we're up against enemies she knows how to neutralize, but pit her against something we've never faced before, and this is her response. It's everyone's response.
Everyone except me.
I'm not useless. I'm not incompetent. I've built our systems of both foraging and house-finding, directed our first evacuations, and treated any injuries on our team. I've saved Patrick from drowning. Kept my head while scouting a dead body in a creepy motel. Argued with the leaders of the Anport Rescues to secure us what we need. I just figured out how to fight the Redding directly. Patrick might have driven off the wave, but he was copying me.
This group doesn't call me their leader because I'm the smartest in the room. They call me their leader because when we're in crisis situations, I lead.
The world seems to clarify around me. We're in the middle of an apocalypse. In a month's time, if I stay healthy and Ember's prophecy holds true, we might be the only group on Cape Morgan left awake and alive. And now that I'm done waiting for someone else to take the lead, I suddenly want to know why.
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Like this chapter if you think it's about time Meg realized she's so competent!
Comment your hypotheses on why you think this group is still alive ✨
