Brunning Divide

Episode 2: Freak Storm - Part 3

"Run, Xander!" Marie Suiza screamed to me and was gone. I should have run, but I couldn't. She'd come back. Right? She had to come back. Her and Reuben would come back up the hole, carrying a laughing but sleepy Oscar. Reuben would take the hot rifle from me with a smile and go outside. The burns on my hands—gone. The gaping hole in the floor—gone. The blood—gone.

Marie would lay Oscar and me down on the beds. She'd kiss her sleepy baby boy as he rolled over, sleep peacefully claiming him. Then Marie would come over to me with a tired smile on her beautiful brown face. That is what would happen. It had to happen that way. I wouldn't let anything else happen. Marie would brush my clean hair out of my face. "It's just a bad dream, Xander," she'd say. "Everything is fine. Go back to sleep so you can wake up. Wake up, Xander. Wake up."

"Wake up." Not Marie Suiza's voice. Not even a woman's. "Xander, son, wake up. You're dreaming. Wake up."

Brief pain lanced my eyes. It hurt to open them. Too bright. I put my hands over my eyes. That hurt too. Everything hurt. My head most of all.

"Emese, he's awake," my father's soft voice called out.

"Thank Yuan!" Mom's voice answered.

Groaning, I let my hands fall off my face. I was in my bedroom. My parents both stood over me. At the side of my bed. Looking down at me. It was weird.

"Uh, good morning?" My voice rasped out. Ugh. Even talking hurt.

"Late morning, son." Worry creased my father's face—probably counting the time down to the seconds I'd wasted sleeping in. "You're lucky to be alive. What happened to you last night?"

Oh. That. It all slammed back into my already aching head. I should be dead. I sat up fast, instantly regretting any movement. I grimaced and lowered myself, slowly, back onto my pillow. "How did I get back here?"

"Questions can wait a few minutes." Mom sat on my bed next to me. "Here, Xander, take a drink. It will help with the pain."

Slowly, I sat up and took the hot cup she offered me. "Better be strong." It tasted sweet and horrible, but my parched throat welcomed the hot liquid. "What is that?" Forcing a weak smile, I passed the cup back to my mom.

"Bark tea with honey. Would you like some more?"

"Thanks, no. Some water?"

"Sure." Mom kissed my forehead and pursed her lips at my father. "No questions until I return." She slipped out of the room.

My father, still standing by my bed, gave a short, small chuckle. "I'm surprised you drank it all. That tea is horrible."

"Same stuff we give the goats when they're kidding?"

"Yep. Just with honey."

"Blech."

"Have to force the goats to drink it. Works though."

Moments passed with nothing said. A common occurrence between my father and myself. Our conversations were utilitarian at best and more often than not, awkward. Absalom Floros could lead a small colony into hell, but deep conversation with his sons—not one of his better skills. Apparently not one of mine either. I stared at the broken blaster on my wall and let the tea work. My father typed on his wrist com while we waited for answers. We both waited for answers.

Mom returned with the water. She paused, putting a hand on my father's arm. "I let Jamus know that Xander's awake. He left to tell Sam and Reese."

My father nodded. "Why did Jamus go? I already sent a com-message to Reese. Oh well. They'll be expecting us soon."