Chapter 2: Be Like Water

Everyone was injured.

Weaver had dubbed it the Battle of Fitchburg, and no surviving member of the 2nd Mass had come through unscathed. Over a hundred people dead which, according to Weaver, was one of their biggest losses. Some of victims, like Philip, Casey hadn't known much about aside from their names. But she noticed their absence. Then there were people like Aunt Kate, Uncle Scott and Sarah, whom everyone had known. Casey wasn't used to so few people being around. The 2nd Mass was usually a lively hub of chattering conversations, now it was just a bunch of muttering people quietly suffering through their pain.

Casey sat in a line of the injured waiting to be seen by Anne and Lourdes. After igniting a huge fire to destroy Fitchburg as well as all the skitters and Mechs still in there, the 2nd Mass had fled to a high school gymnasium on the edge of Connecticut. Anne and Lourdes had created a makeshift triage clinic in the locker room with what little supplies they had managed to find in the gym. Curtains separated the badly wounded from those with minor injuries, but they didn't drown out the sound of their screams. Or the smell of burnt flesh.

Charlotte was dosing in Casey's lap still nestled in her torn and dirty baby sling, but she didn't seem to be able to sleep and kept wriggling as if she wanted to be set down. Casey had checked the baby for cuts, but she didn't see anything bleeding and Charlotte didn't seem to have any burns. But she was naturally pink anyway. All babies looked weirdly pink when they were that tiny, didn't they? Surely Charlotte would be screeching if she was in pain?

As her adrenaline wore off, Casey started to feel the intense pain of her own injuries. Simply swivelling on her seat sent stings throughout her body. She worried she'd broken something else besides her wrist, something internally. And every time she coughed her chest pulse with a sharp ache. But everybody seemed to be suffering with the cough. The smoke from the Fitchburg blaze seemed to affect them all that way. Aside from the coughing and her wrist, there was a patch of skin burning across her cheek right where she had skidded on the asphalt. Casey didn't want to see her reflection for fear of seeing just how much of her face had been shaved off. But no one walking past who looked at her screamed or reeled back in horror, so she hoped that meant it wasn't too repulsive.

"Casey?" Anne stuck her around the locker room door. The doctor was flustered and overworked, but still she managed to smile as she called Casey in.

With a pained grunt, Casey got to her feet and entered the triage clinic. She could hear people whimpering in pain, begging for help, but Anne had set up another curtain to keep the gravely injured separate. Casey was glad of it, she wasn't sure how she'd react to seeing a burnt corpse again. What she'd seen at Fitchburg was enough.

Lourdes came out from behind the curtain looking as haggard as Anne, but also still managing a smile. She directed Casey to take a seat while Anne took Charlotte from Casey's arms. "You guys seem pretty set up in here," Casey winced as Lourdes gently felt around her swollen wrist.

"The scouts found an ambulance out in the street. And we found some First Aid Kits here at the gym," Lourdes told her. "Really, the most we can do is sew cuts, clean wounds, and doll out aspirin for the pain." She gently squeezed Casey's wrist. "Broken," She declared the obvious. "Lucky you, wrapping broken bones is my forte." She smiled and got to work with the bandage. "How's your breathing? Still coughing from the smoke?"

"No, it's better now that we're inside," Casey said. "Never thought I'd breathe better in a gym."

Lourdes finished securing the bandage on Casey's wrist and then poured disinfectant on a cotton wipe and dabbed it on Casey's cheek. "You got some pretty fine road rash," Lourdes cringed as she worked. "This is gonna sting."

Casey winced and instinctively scrunched up her face, which only made the stinging worse. "Dammit," she grunted through clenched teeth.

"She seems just fine," Anne had rewrapped Charlotte in a clean towel and then put her back in her sling. "She's alert, not lethargic, her heartbeats strong, breathing sounds clear," She patted the baby's back and rocked her from side to side. "Very lucky baby." Anne slipped the strap of the baby sling over Casey's shoulder and set Charlotte on her lap. "I'll keep checking on her every couple of hours. Are you okay with her?"

"Yeah," Casey said vaguely. She was busy adjusting the baby in the crook of her arm as Lourdes finished sticking the bandage to her cheek. Charlotte was light as a feather, but she was awkward to hold with one busted wrist.

"Take these for the pain," Anne poured two Aspirin into Casey's palm. "Sorry they're not stronger."

Casey took the pills and the bottle of water Lourdes offered her and was then quickly rushed out of the clinic as two men came in carrying a woman who seemed to be bleeding from just about everywhere.

Outside the triage, Casey wasn't sure where she should go. There were little groups of people everywhere, but they seemed to be doing their own thing. One half of the gym had been designated for sleeping, the other was members of the 2nd Mass organizing supplies. Food, clothing, blankets. There wasn't a lot left after Fitchburg.

Casey wandered towards the sleeping section looking for someone who could help her with Charlotte. There were other kids in the 2nd Mass with adults taking care of them, Casey needed to find one before the baby needed something. Then, as if to spite her, Charlotte promptly opened her eyes, peed through her baby sling and started to scream.

"Dammit," Casey turned and headed for the back fire escape. She didn't want to add to everyone's trouble sleeping, the sounds of agony from the triage were bad enough without Charlotte's screeching going along with it.

The air outside was cold, so Casey tried to rearrange Charlotte's towel so it closed in around her neck. Lourdes had done a great job on wrapping Casey's wrist, it didn't hurt as much, but it was so firmly strapped that Casey could barely use her fingers. It was like wearing a mitten.

Casey walked Charlotte out to where the remaining vehicles of the 2nd Mass were parked. Aside from a few guards on watch who wouldn't be sleeping anyway, no one was out there to be bothered by the crying. Almost nothing was out there aside from the handful of cars that had made it out of Fitchburg.

"Ok, we're outside now," Casey said to Charlotte as she patted her back the same way she'd just seen Anne do. "See, out in the air? Air is good, right?" Charlotte's response was to cough, and spit up all over Casey's shoulder. Casey grimaced at the gross feeling of wet liquid splashing on her skin and through her clothes. "I hate you, Charlotte." The baby wailed loudly in response.

"Her Mama know you talk to her like that?" Pope, was drinking beer in the back of a scorched pickup truck seemingly enjoying watching Casey's struggle with the baby.

"Sarah's dead," Casey said flatly. "A mech blew a hole in her back."

Pope gave her an odd look. "You're kinda dark."

"I'm covered in pee and vomit," Casey snapped. "And she won't stop crying."

"Walk with her," Pope dismissed her and went back to his beer. "She'll shut up eventually. Worked with my kids."

Casey stopped rocking Charlotte. "You have kids?" She headed straight for the truck. "Then you have to help me." Until Anne or Lourdes or someone else could take Charlotte, a parent would certainly be better equipped with the baby than Casey.

Pope snorted his beer. "I'm not helping you babysit."

"I can't take care of a baby," Casey argued.

Pope stared at her funny. "Why are you tellin' me?"

Shifting Charlotte to her other arm, Casey huffed to herself, reconsidered and turned away from Pope. Probably not a good idea to leave a baby with a drunk, belligerent stranger. It confirmed to her that the sooner Anne or Lourdes came for the baby, the better for everyone. Especially Charlotte. Casey didn't have great instincts with when it came to choices for a baby.

"Give her a bath," Pope's voice called out behind Casey.

Casey turned back to him, Charlotte squealing over her shoulder. "What?"

"Warm bath in a dim room," He settled back in the truck and closed his eyes. "It'll knock her out."

Seeing as how she was covered in grossness and needed a shower anyway, Casey decided it couldn't make things worse and made her way back inside the gym to the girl's locker room. Hal and Maggie had found a few generators in a utility closet and hooked them up to some lights for the clinic and the water system in one of the bathrooms. Most of the 2nd Mass had already showered and were now attempting to find a comfortable section of floor to sleep on, so the bathroom was empty.

Casey didn't want to put Charlotte on the floor, so she laid her in her towel and baby carrier in one of the basins. The water pressure in the shower wasn't great, but after a few seconds of Casey twisting the HOT faucet, it ran warm. Casey stripped off her gross clothes and unwrapped Charlotte from her towel. She was all spindly and pink, she looked like a scrawny little alien. Her face kept scrunching up and she would make a coughing noise like she was about to launch into another bout of screams.

Possibly the only thing Casey knew about newborns was they couldn't support their own heads, so she slid one hand under Charlotte's neck and her bandaged hand under Charlotte's backside and lifted her to her bare chest. Together, they stepped into the shower which was already misting with steam, and Charlotte stopped her cry-coughing almost immediately.

Casey smiled to herself, happy to finally only be hearing the sound of rushing water. No baby crying, no burnt people sobbing, no screams, no gunfire. Just water. She wondered if maybe that's all Charlotte had wanted, silence. Well, silence plus a shower.

Casey stood to the side of the shower stream and caught water in her hand to wash Charlotte's teeny body. The infant rested her head against Casey's shoulder and made gentle whimpers that thankfully didn't turn into full on cries. Casey and Charlotte stood there until the water ran cold, just enjoying the silence together. But the baby stayed quiet even when Casey shut off the shower, wrapped the baby in a clean towel and rested her back in the basin. Casey thought it seemed like a pretty novel place to rest the kid since it prevented her from rolling out onto the floor.

With Charlotte contained, Casey was able to inspect herself in the mirror for the first time since Fitchburg. The road rash on her face wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, the bandage Lourdes had fixed on her cheek covered just above her jaw and just below her cheekbone. Casey had imagined it oozing blood like she'd been stuck by a thousand little needles, so to see her face in basically in one piece was comforting. Her richly dark brown hair had been singed from the fire and even after a shower it still looked brittle. She would have to cut off the ends, but she'd been meaning to cut it for a while anyway. When it grew to her waist it was always time for a trim. She had inherited fast-growing hair from her mother.

In fact, all her features were her mother. Thea called her daughter a perfect combination of both her parents. Her mother's gentle face and chocolate coloured hair, bright eyes, pouting lips and defined jaw, plus her father's cranky disposition. Mike claimed he had earned his short fuse after thirty years as a college football coach, and he encouraged it in his daughter. "Don't be a doormat, Casey," he'd say. "Let people know when they're pissing you off. No one has the right to make you feel that way."

It always sounded better when he said it that way, and not used words like "abrasive", "disinterested" and "easily distracted", words that often appeared on all of Casey's school report cards. And that job performance review from Denny's that had hit the trifecta. It didn't matter how many times she tried to explain she wasn't disinterested, that it was just the way her expression set that made her appear that way.

Casey blinked at her reflection for a few more seconds and then chose some clean clothes generously donated by members of the 2nd Mass who had been lucky enough to escape Fitchburg with more than just their lives. Casey dressed in an off-the-shoulder striped t-shirt and pair of jeans that were too long and too tight, then scooped her wet hair up into a messy bun and looked down at Charlotte. She was curled up in a way that weirdly made Casey think of a cooked chicken. Perhaps that was just hunger at work. All Charlotte's limbs were sort of folded into her body, except for one hand which was resting just by her head in a fist. She looked so comfortable Casey was almost envious. Being born during an alien invasion had its advantages; you could sleep through anything.

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