Hope and Undead Elvis

chapter Twenty-One

Hope and Rae





Hope discovered quickly that a fireman's carry looked a lot easier in the movies than it was in real life. She staggered even under Rae's slight weight. With the unconscious nun curled across her back, Hope could feel every bone in Rae's body digging into her back. Hope tried not to think of the women they'd left behind, brutalized, eaten, and burned. But she believed whatever lay beyond for those poor women was a hell of a lot better than what they would leave behind on Earth.

God was a bastard. Maybe she couldn't say it aloud, but she could sure as hell think it. She'd heard so many people over the years talk about God's love. A loving God wouldn't let loose a plague on the Earth like the Righteous Flame, or taken away Hope's only friend in Undead Elvis, or given her a baby she had neither asked for nor wanted.

"A*shole," said Hope through clenched teeth as she carried Rae along. Hope slipped on a loose piece of deadfall and struggled to keep her feet under her and Rae on her shoulders. The slender girl moaned a little, just enough for Hope to hear over the distant crackle of flames. At least the screams had stopped. And Rae was, for the moment, still alive. Hope was determined she should stay that way, even if she had to carry her all the way out of the forest on foot.

That felt like a daunting proposition, especially since Hope hadn't eaten any better than Rae while in her coma. She'd lost some of her strength and muscle tone, but years of dancing had given her much more to fall back upon, and still she managed to put one foot in front of the other. The distance between her and the Righteous Flame eventually grew until she couldn't smell smoke or hear anything but the wind whispering through the canopy.

And still, she staggered onward. Like her journey through the endless, timeless desert, her world shrank to a few repetitive motions. Move one foot forward. Rest. Move other foot forward. Rest again. Try not to think about the weight resting on her shoulders.

Step. Rest. Step. Rest.

Rae groaned and moved on Hope's shoulders. The noise startled Hope from her mesmerized state. She looked around and spotted a large tree with a sloping bole covered in lush moss. She knelt down, ignoring the screams of protest from her knees and thigh muscles, and rolled Rae onto the ground to lean against the tree.

The young nun's eyes opened but rolled around unfocused. Hope knelt in front of her and took gentle hold of Rae's head. "Rae? It's Hope. Are you all right?"

Rae's hands shot up to grab Hope's hands—not as if she were afraid, but instead overjoyed. "Your son…"

Hope's eyes widened. "What?"

Rae's eyes still rolled around like she had a concussion. Her voice, though soft, was insistent. "Your son… will be a great man." Her eyes closed and she slumped against Hope.

"My… son?" Hope clutched at the swell of her belly. As if in response, the baby within fluttered back and forth. Tears ran unchecked down Hope's cheeks. She'd felt guilty about falling, about not eating right, about losing herself in a coma for months. And still, the baby moved, safe in his warm cocoon.

His.

She'd been thinking of the baby as it for a long time. Now, whether Rae was right or wrong, Hope felt comfortable calling the baby he.

She'd have to start thinking of names.

Rae started, like she awakened from a nightmare. She jerked back from Hope, screaming.

"Rae, don't!" Hope hated that she had to shout, but knew her voice wouldn't penetrate into fog of deafness and terror.

Rae quieted her voice. Her breaths came short and sharp. "Who's there?"

"Rae, it's me. It's Hope." Hope dared to speak louder.

Rae swung her head around, frantic tears flying. "Hope? Where are you? I can't see. Why can't I see?"

Hope took Rae's hands in a gentle grasp. Although Rae jumped in fear, she let Hope guide her hands up to feel Hope's face, and down to feel the gradual swell of her belly. "I'm here."

"Hope? Oh God. I can't hardly hear, and now I can't see at all." Rae fell into Hope's arms and sobbed. "I'm so frightened."

Hope sighed. It had been hard enough carrying the young nun as far as she had. She was exhausted already, and a sightless Rae would only make things harder. Hope pulled Rae's wimple back to stroke the young woman's short, ragged hair. Rae buried her face against Hope's shoulder.

As she soothed the nun, Hope took stock of where they'd stopped: a gentle downhill slope peppered with ancient deciduous trees whose mossy sides gave off a heady aroma of life. She couldn't hear the crackle of flames anymore. Instead, birdsong, the persistent hiss of insects, and a burble of nearby running water filled her ears. She realized how thirsty she was from her flight. She pulled Rae off her shoulder and turned the nun's head so she could speak right into her ear. "Rae, can you hear me?" she called.

Rae nodded. "A little."

"We need water. There's some nearby. Can you walk?"

Rae clambered to her feet and took tight hold of Hope's hand. "Guide me."

Together, the two women made slow progress down the slope. Hope kept her ears open for the sounds of anyone approaching, but the only sounds not of the forest were from her and Rae's descent. As they walked, Hope spotted colorful mushrooms nestling at the bases of some trees and others seeming to grow right out of the sides of the trunks. Her stomach roiled. She didn't even like mushrooms but would have sat down to a feast of them, had she only known which ones weren't poisonous. She wished she'd been a girl scout or more outdoorsy or anything but a stripper. "Useless," she muttered, quiet enough that Rae wouldn't hear.

The sound of moving water expanded until it seemed to fill the air around them with its subsonic throb. They broke from the trees and Hope saw a shining expanse of water flowing slow and steady toward the south. It sparkled in the afternoon sunshine with such unexpected beauty that it made Hope's eyes go all teary.

Cattails and reeds lined the banks, and gave off a rotten-sweet scent in the air. Rae's nose wrinkled. "River?" she asked.

Hope squeezed her hand and led the sightless woman down the bank. Mud along the edges threatened to take their slippers, so Hope slipped them off and tucked the mud-stained shoes into the pocket of her robe. She helped Rae off with hers. The young woman squealed with delight as mud oozed between her toes. "Come on," said Hope. "I bet the water's clearer away from the edge. We can drink there." She didn't know that to be a fact, but after a life spent making hasty decisions and living with the consequences, she wasn't going to change that now.

The river was one of the widest Hope had ever seen, so unlike the glorified trickles the denizens of the southwest had called rivers. It moved with slow, infinite patience, like it was the idling engine that drove the world. Hope wondered if it could be the Mississippi. She couldn't believe she'd come that far east, though. Maybe it was just a river without a name.

Hope and Rae waded out into the shallows, clutching at each other for balance. Hope could see fish circling about in the clear water, examining their toes as they kicked up clouds of silt with each step. Her stomach rumbled and she decided that after they had a drink, she'd try to catch them some sushi. A little protein, a little fat… it would be almost like Heaven. If only she had some wasabi and rice to go with it, it would be perfect.

Cool water flowed past her knees as Hope bent down to cup water in her hands. She sniffed it. It had no scent but she felt as if she held weighty time itself within her hands. She lowered her lips to it and sucked in pure, sweet bliss. "Drink," she called to Rae. "It's okay."

They drank their fill, letting the river current carry away the pain of the journey and memories of fire and death. At last, Hope's raging thirst subsided and she felt enlivened, as if the water itself had provided her missing nutrients. She turned to Rae, who had sopped water down the front of her robe from bending down to dip her lips into the river. The nun's tiny breasts stood out against the thin fabric of her robe like she was still a preteen. Hope felt sorry; the girl was half-starved. Before she could turn her attention to the fish zipping around her feet, Rae clutched at her.

"Will you baptize me?" asked the nun.

Hope opened her mouth but no sound came forth. The request was the most unexpected thing she'd ever heard. Well, second-most unexpected, she amended as she felt her unborn son flutter.

"I know you're not Catholic," said Rae. "But maybe that doesn't matter anymore. The world is changing. For better or worse, I don't know. But I do know there's a very special child coming, and if it doesn't mean anything to be a Catholic at the end of the world, I believe your baby does mean something important. All I ask is to recognize that belief in a way which means something to me. So will you baptize me, Hope?" Rae found Hope's face with her hands and placed her fingers on Hope's lips to fully understand her reply.

Hope didn't want to do it. She wasn't some religious icon, nor did she aspire to be. All she wanted was to get to Graceland where she hoped to deliver her baby and live the rest of her days in peace, far away from the crazies with their torches and hunger for human flesh. But the fire of fundamentalist zeal didn't burn in Rae's face. Instead, Hope saw only honest, earnest belief.

She couldn't leave that seed untended when she could water it. Maybe the world would be a better place for it.

Hope said, "All right, I'll baptize you. What do I do? And what do I say?"

"You probably don't know what to do. Submerge me, then raise me back up. Say whatever you need for it to feel right." Rae's voice was soft and serene.

Hope led Rae out to where the water lapped at their waists instead of knees. Rae leaned back and Hope pushed her head below the river's surface. In that moment, she felt unworthy, like she was cheating Rae's beliefs. Who was she to do this?

But she pulled Rae from the water. Words swirled through her mind and coalesced into something meaningful. "Be at peace with yourself and others. Live and love and teach others to do the same."

Rae gasped as rivulets cascaded down her face, mixing with tears of joy from her sightless eyes. She clutched Hope's hands. "I will. Dear God, if you could only see what I see, Hope… It's the future!"

Hope found she was crying a little too. She clasped Rae to her and they clung to each other in the cool river current. "I hope it's a good one."

Rae didn't answer.