Efflorescence
Prelude: Survival
The faint patter of rain that dripped onto her skin sounded more like marbles shattering a pane of glass. What would have been a cooling and relaxing sensation was more like needles being driven into every inch of exposed skin. Driving lances of pain into her body; causing sparks to dance in front of her eyes. Thunder swiftly followed the rain, crackling inside of her skull as she lay in the undergrowth exhausted. Streaks of mud, blood, and ash littered her skin along with the mix of sunburn and rope burn. What was left of her clothing had been ripped, little more then rags now as she lay under the fern bush feeling the remnants of vertigo leaving her system.
Reeling over onto her side the girl vomited a third time. Strings of bile connected her lips to the ground as she heaved, spitting up some of the ash that had made its way into her lungs. With a grunt of effort she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees coming to a stand by pulling herself up with a rotten log. Chipped and cracked fingernails dug into the moldy wood stirring up several insects that lived in the decayed matter. The sharp tang of rot stifled her breathing, but it could not overcome the smell of blood and vomit. Her feet planted themselves into the ground limping away from her hiding place. She could hear the sounds of a stream not too far away, if she could find that maybe there would be a way out of these woods. It was a half-hearted hope though. The things that attacked the research center had probably killed almost everyone and anyone who survived were probably in the same, or worse, condition she was.
The memory of the attack brought on the vertigo again. Her stomach cramped, her throat constricted and she gagged. Holding her mouth brought some respite to the compulsion to vomit again, but until she could rinse the taste out of her mouth the sensation would always be there at the back of her throat.
"Hang in there, Kathryn," she whispered to herself. Her voice was hoarse and rasped from the rawness of her throat, "hang in there." Kathryn stumbled forward placing a hand against every available tree she could find leaving smudges behind that she dare not look at. A throb ran up the length of her leg, a gash that had been clotted by leaves and other debris of the forest. It wasn't healthy she knew, but it was far better then bleeding to death and from the size of the wound it would have only taken her a matter of minutes to pass out. At this point Kathryn was well into shock her body was shaking and the vertigo wasn't bothering her as much anymore. Survival mode her uncle had called it; when your body numbs itself in order to get help. Kathryn had hoped never to experience it. When her uncle explained his time in the Vietnam War she'd shuddered at the very thought of having to remove her own limb in order to survive. Hopefully that would not be the case and she could find help before it became necessary.
Time was meaningless as Kathryn foraged her way through the dense undergrowth of the coniferous forest that she would normally stride through on any given day. The light was fading and the rain had started to pour. Soon there would be a thick storm overhead and there would be no chance that someone would accidentally stumble upon her prone form if she just lay down. Was it hours, minutes, seconds? Or days that she stumbled around in the woods, trying to hear the sound of the stream over thunder and rain? It was nearly impossible to tell which direction she was moving until her foot caught on a protruding rock, twisting her ankle, and sending Kathryn face first into the moving water.
With a sputtering cough she pushed herself up her face and hair already drenched from the rain. Her hands tapped at the water, her eyes not adjusted to the dark, before bringing her face down and gulping. The water was fresh and clear helping to clear the flavor of her mouth. After several mouthfuls Kathryn pulled herself up moving gingerly so as to not irritate her already injured leg. She was almost grateful that she'd twisted the ankle of her right leg which carried the deep cut across her thigh she wouldn't have two injured legs to walk on in the mean time. Her throat throbbed, the water not quite quenching the burn.
Lightning lanced across the sky startling a shriek out of her lungs. The illumination momentarily highlighted the fog that was rolling into the forest. Water dripped off the greenery onto the ground before the light was suddenly gone. The raucous boom of thunder that followed similarly had her jumping followed by the rat-at-tat-tat of rain pounding down on the maple leaves above her head. Kathryn's entire body shuddered as the sound rattled through her ears. Echoes of missiles crashing, gun fire, screams…
It was another half hour before her stomach had settled enough that she could drink more water. By this point Kathryn had come to terms with the fact that it would be unwise to move around any more at night. It was impossible for her to find a road or building when she couldn't see. Even with the bolts of lightning that continuously cut across the sky there was no chance she could navigate the forest. Instead she pulled her left knee up to her chest and wrapped her arms around it while she shivered. Just like there was no chance for her to navigate, there was no way she would be able to construct a shelter to wait out the rain.
"I h-have to," she stuttered, her teeth chattering together. It felt like they were going to shatter if they hit any harder. "… have to stay awake." Her head drifted down onto her arms. Shoulders shaking in the wind and the rain; in the distance she could hear the sound of wood popping groaning under the pressure of the wind. Lightning bolted across the sky, thunder following soon after booming into existence.
"Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me," she whispered in as close to a sing-song voice as she could handle, "starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;" her eyes closed as she repeated the lullaby quietly to herself. Her older brother William's wife Janet sung it to their newborn every night to lull him to sleep. It was the same song William's and her mother sang to them when they were little. Janet had never used the custom, but when she'd heard Kathryn's mom sing it to her little grandchild it stuck with her. Kathryn never really realized how beautiful it was until she watched Janet and her mother sing it together while rocking baby Christian to sleep at night. She remembered the soft golden glow of the lamp. The rich brown and earthy tone of the rocking chair, the way the light brought out the wrinkles under her mother's eyes. Those wrinkles were both sad and happy. If her mother had never had kids would she have those wrinkles now? She always said that she and William were responsible for the gray hair on her head.
"Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelie; over the streamlet vapors are borne," Kathryn sang, her voice choking as tears rolled down her cheeks. William was twenty five this year, and she'd be turning eighteen in August. Christian was going to be six months old pretty soon; he was growing up so fast even as a baby. Those bright blue eyes he inherited from his mom, while he got the tawny-brown hair from his dad's side of the family.
Kathryn tightened her hold on her good leg to steady herself while a sob racked through her ribs. She snuffled back against the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. Rain drops giving the illusion that she was crying anyway. Dirt slowly smeared down across her sun tanned and burnt skin. Her eyelids blinked over brown eyes. She was glad Christian hadn't gotten her families boring brown eyes. Brown hair and brown eyes was so common. She wished she could have bright baby blue eyes too, but she was stuck with what she had, but she was glad he had another color other then brown. Even if her mom had always said she and William had "gorgeous" brown eyes. They were bland.
The sudden crack of a falling tree caught her attention; snapping her out of her reprieve. Kathryn pushed herself up, groaning at the pressure on her leg and stumbled a few steps up stream. Her eyes widened, lightning glancing across the sky and illuminating the immediate area. She swallowed against the sticky bile that coated her throat listening intently. With a crack of thunder she screamed, falling backwards into the stream pushing herself away from the opposite bank and up against a tree. Her head whipped from side to side trying to catch a glimpse or flash of metal. The flare of a fuse or burst of a missile being launched, or the sudden and sharp pops of red light that meant bullets were being fired. There was nothing.
"Hello?" she called, to be sure, "is anyone there?" Only the crackle of thunder followed her words. The rain pounding harder and the groan of the trees increasing as the wind picked up. Kathryn huddled against the tree, thankful for the support at the very least. She let her forehead rest against her knee again, her side pressing up against the tree feeling the bite of the bark on the exposed skin of her shoulder. With a sigh she returned to singing the lullaby, her voice tired and sore. If only she could stay awake until the storm broke morning couldn't be that far away could it?
It wasn't long before shock and exhaustion won over her resolve. Kathryn was curled up at the base of the tree, her injured right leg sticking out from her body with her foot in the stream as the storm continued to rage on well past midnight. When she'd crossed the stream it had barely made it past the ten o'clock hour. It wouldn't be until five o'clock in the morning before the sun peeked its way through and even then that was only if the storm let up.
By two o'clock in the morning the lightning had diminished and the thunder was a distant rumble. It was still pouring outside and her entire body was soaked through. The leaves, dirt, and debris that clotted the wound in her leg were slowly oozing out of her skin, loosening and the faint crunch of approaching footsteps went unheard until they were close and even then Kathryn didn't quite wake up a slow groan escaping her lips as blinding lights flashed down from above.
"I've found one," called a voice. The crunch of wood snapping and breaking followed as more voices joined the first.
"She's badly damaged, should we not leave her and look for other survivors?" said another voice, this one far gruffer then the first. Kathryn moved, pulling an arm across her side and trying to open her eyes, but they were badly encrusted. It was painful to try and open them. She tried to push herself up, tried to lean against the tree, but a pressure on her back stopped her.
"Settle yourself youngling," said yet a third voice, this one older and calming, "we will be doing no such thing. The child needs medical attention. We can transport her and still search for others." He was obviously speaking to the person who opted to leave her behind. Kathryn felt a cold pressure being applied to her leg before something hot and wet spread over the skin. Red lanced across her closed eyes, her teeth grinding against themselves as the pain twined itself up to her hips like a hot rod iron. There was a muttered curse she couldn't quite understand as more pressure applied itself to her leg slowing the blood flow. The rain was falling on top of something metal the patter reaching her ears, and wasn't falling on top of her even though she was lying in the grass. Her brain was fogged and she couldn't quite remember how she'd gotten here in the first place. The crunching sound increased and a sharp pain stabbed its way into her leg before a flood of relief washed through her system. The pain reliever they gave her acted almost immediately. Distantly she could feel the pressure of what they were doing, field dressing her leg and checking her over for any other severe damage, but Kathryn was soon higher then a kite; a blanket soon being wrapped around her body once her leg was bandaged.
Kathryn was slowly slipping into a fog of unconsciousness and only distantly felt her body being lifted onto a stretcher. That made no sense, how could there be a stretcher and a vehicle? Was she closer to the road then she thought she had been? But no, no it couldn't have been a stretcher because she was soon lying on top of leather padded seats, hot air flowing from the vents. The warm purr of a diesel motor caressed her ears and voices speaking in the background about searching in a grid pattern to discover other survivors. Someone was asked to remain here to keep her warm and safe; to radio back if there were any difficulties. Kathryn snuggled herself into the blanket wrapped around her pillowing her head on top of her arm. Her head wasn't throbbing any more and she couldn't feel her leg. It was all rather unnerving, but she couldn't concentrate long enough to be concerned.