Legend of the Storm
Audra knew very little about the District nor the Section. She grew up in the neighboring districts, naturally, but the few sections that took up shelter around the Endless Storm seemed like a completely separate culture than her own. The weather, the houses, the agriculture, even the people were extremely different than anything she'd ever come across. Since she'd joined the Health Caravan, however, she'd seen so much more than she ever thought possible.
Some sections, primarily those closer to the storm center where the wind is strongest, believe that this storm is a sign from god, a spiritual force that can be a blessing or a curse upon those nearby. The people she worked with, patching up their cuts and scraps, spoke of legends and stories that all go with the storm. Few of them stuck with her but one fascinated it. She had gotten the story from an old man, who was luckily dying of old age.
"Listen, child" he spoke softly, patting her hand.
He was a wrinkled old man, pale faced, and hair barely sticking to his bald head. She knew he was in pain though. His eyes were the biggest silver with hints of blue. They reminded her of the sky on a cloudy day. It made her smile. So he smiled too.
"Have you heard the story of the Storm?" he asked.
"I have heard many."
"Are you familiar with mythology?" he questioned.
"There are so many," she commented.
"Have you heard of the thunderer? The lord of lightning?" perked the man, eyes shimmering.
"I'm familiar with the terms but I can't think of the name. I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Thor," the man instructed. "Norse mythology. He was the son of Odin, brother of Loki…"
"Very interesting," nodded Audra, patting a damp towel upon the man's brow.
"They are real you know. The gods of old. Thor was a great hero, fighting alongside Earth's mightiest." He coughed hard, sitting up slightly. He then laid back down. "These things are true. I was but a child…but I remember it."
Audra nodded lightly, as if listening to the ramblings of an old man. She'd seen it before from men younger than this.
"The storm, my child, I know…" the man spoke hushed, glaring right into Audra's eyes, "It is the work of the thunderer. Be it him or his hammer…I know the signs."
"Sir, you must rest," insisted Audra. "You are tired and weak."
"Only the worthy may wield it…" whispered the man, shutting his eyes.
His breathing shallowed. She turned away, listening to the breathing slow and slow and stop. His hand slipped free of hers. She stood up, stepping out of the hut and calling for the coroner. She didn't want to see them after they stopped breathing. She preferred life over death.
"Frevert!"
Her boss was a lean man like a twig with limbs, dressed in an oddly cleaned suit. His face was like a mountain side, ridged and carved with deep eyes. Audra wasn't completely sure that he liked her but on the other hand she didn't like him much either. He acted like he was above all those around him, especially the ill. It bothered her.
"Frevert! Has your patient passed?" hummed the man.
"Yes, Dr. Georgia," she replied.
"Then it's time for us to take our leave," he nodded, fixing his cuffs. "We're heading deep in now, closest section to the storm. So anything you got worth keeping best keep it on your person or tied down."
"Yes, sir," she nodded.
"Good. Now move," he ordered.
He left quickly, brushing off the mourning townspeople. Audra hated him. Nonetheless, she liked the idea of helping others at whatever cost. After all, life was worth preserving. She packed up her sleeping bag, hygiene bag, and her own notebooks which she eventually threw into the back of the truck. She was one of fifteen volunteers working under Dr. Georgia. They barely fit into the open back truck. Dr. Georgia drove with Michael, the longest volunteer, in the passenger sit.
Audra typically sat beside Denton and Carson. They both liked her but she didn't care for either of them. Dating wasn't on her mind. She preferred her work. Nonetheless, she enjoyed the challenge of watching the two fight for her attention. She hopped into the truck, sitting closer to the back of the truck so as to see the section for as long as possible. The children chased them, waving and cheering as they drove away. She smiled, waving back to them but she could not smile the way they did.
