A Name from the Past

My sleep is deep and dark. I was too tired even for dreams.

I finally wake to the gentle steady pat, pat, pat of water dripping inside one of the ruined cars behind me in the junk pile. The storm had passed during the night. I was happy to feel that I was still mostly dry and that.... I suddenly realize that I don't feel the weight of her head on my thigh or the heat from her body warming me.

I bolt upright and open my eyes, simultaneously I feel around where Gabriela ought to be. Gabby was gone! The early morning light was filtering through the sheeting so I could see. I was alone in the shelter. Frantically my eyes flit around looking for signs of a struggle or of her being dragged away. Everything seemed fine. I the realize the blanket had been lain over me, the jug of water sitting to my left. It was then I hear the crack of a wood fire and movement outside.

I try to talk but it catches in my throat. I take a quick swig of water then try again.

“Gab...riela?” I swallow hard. My throat was starting to feel better, though there was still a raspy pain as I spoke. “Gabby? Is that...you?”

I hear soft wet footfalls approach and then her smiling face suddenly pops into view. “Filth! You're speaking so much better today.” She wriggles in along the side of the shelter. “I'll open this up again, it's so nice outside. Fresh. Nothing like a good storm to freshen things up.” She comes to kneel down by my legs. She wore only her overalls, which she wore tighter today to cover her breasts, and shoes. Her blood soaked shirt was nowhere to be seen. She is all smiles as she looks at me.

I am beyond confused as I stare at her grinning face and...perfect shoulder. She had removed the bandage and cleaned her arm. Only flawless copper skin where there should be a nasty wound. There was no sign of the life threatening injury from the evening before. She moved without pain or inconvenience. Gabby continues. “I found a whole bunch of toads this morning.” She lets out an excited laugh. “We're eating good this morning. Hey, that was great what you did to protect the wood, it was still mostly dry. You're...um...oh this sounds awful I'm sorry...but...you're smarter than I...expected.”

I might be offended at that if I wasn't so focused on the impossibility before me. She continues to talk in that way she does, going on as if everything was perfectly normal. “I'll have to redo your bandages today. That'll be most of our remaining supplies but...OH!” I reach out and grab what ought to be bandaged and wounded flesh. She startles then slowly relaxes. She was still nervous about me but had made a conscious decision to trust me. I lean forward and inspect it closely. It was miraculous. There wasn't a mark on her!

Obviously more happened when she slept than simply her body temperature going up. Now it made sense as to how she had managed to keep such a flawless unmarked body living the life of a scrounger. I had once met a man with similar healing abilities, but he was a gnarled and scarred monstrosity.

“Shoulder?” I ask insistently.

She looks uncomfortable, her eyes dart away. “Oh...yeah. That. Uhmm. Thanks for fixing me up Filth. I'm glad it wasn't so bad.” She tries to pull away but I hold her firm. “I...should go cook those...” She glances back away from me. “Please let me go.”

“Hurt! Shoulder!?” I ask again. I rub it under my long hand. I could feel no indication of anything wrong. It had healed perfectly.

She swallows hard and clears her throat. “I prayed this morning and thanked the lord for his mercy...”

“Shoulder!?” I say again louder. “Mutant.” I blurt out. Even as it comes out I regret it.

Her eyes snap up to mine. There was a pained look on her face as genuine as the suffering I saw on it last night as I cleaned her wound. It was followed immediately by a flash of anger. “I'm a human! Do you hear me? I'm a human, Filth! Not a mutant like you...ORC! I am a child of God.” She is blinking tears from her eyes. “I'm not a nasty dirty...” She bites her lip. Whatever she was about to say was not going to be kind, but she stops herself.

With a twist of her shoulder she slips free of my grasp and pulls away. She turns and crawls for the exit.

In my rough rasping voice I say. “Gabriela...I'm happy...you're...okay.” I grimace as I swallow, each word again feeling like molten glass shards tearing up my throat.

She stops a moment. I watch her shoulders relax as the anger drains from her. She turns her head though her eyes don't look back. She responds. “Thank you Filth...” She is still for a long moment, I could see she wanted to say more. It is quiet. Just the steady pat, pat, pat of the dripping water and the distant crackle of the campfire to be heard.

“Gabby...don't...leave. Talk. Talk to...me.” The more I talked the more it hurt, but as she turns back to return to me I knew the pain had been worth it.

She crawls up and settles in beside me. Her small hand grips my bare shoulder, her other one lower down on my arm, and she stares into my eyes. “I'm a human. Okay? I...I don't know why this happens. My Mom said it was my guardian angel looking out for me, but...I don't...I'm just not a mutant. I know that in my heart. It is impossible for me to be a mutant, okay? God wouldn't...let that happen. I'm going to heaven...when I...” She sniffles as she struggles to maintain her composure. She blinks the tears away rapidly then manages keeps her emotions in check. She says once more with conviction. “I'm a human. I'm a pure blood human.”

This poor girl. That religious shit had really gotten to her. Her belief in her own pure blood humanity was her desperately trying to hold onto her everlasting soul. She simply could not imagine herself as anything less than human. She could not cope with her eternal paradise in the afterlife being denied to her simply because of the body she'd been born into.

I felt sympathy for her. Many of us out here knew that feeling well, but as it related to the pure blood colonies. Mutants cast out of the relative safety and security of these communities into the unforgiving Wastes for something beyond their control. Usually as babies or small children. Innocents punished for nature's cruel curse on them. If it wasn't for the Orc women known as the Doula's that roamed the areas near the colonies most of these babes would perish.

I look at her resolute expression. If she didn't want to admit she was a mutant that was okay by me, I would not press it. Fuck, we all had to live in our own little bubbles sometimes to get by in this world. How much shit had I blocked out or repressed over the years to convince myself that I wasn't really a bad person? I'd told myself being a raider was just a way to survive and that surviving was all that mattered in the end. I told myself anyone would have done the same thing in my shoes. Now that I had met Gabriela...I realized that wasn't true. Had our roles been reversed I would have NEVER considered staying to try to save her.

Reaching up with my good hand I rest it on her shoulder as she was doing to mine. “Gabby...human.” I nod.

A sweet little smile brightens her face. Her eyes drop to watch her own hand as it lightly strokes my muscular arm. She sidles up close to me, kneeling right up against my hip. “So soft.” She says. “Your skin...it's so soft. You...you aren't at all what I thought...” She grins even brighter. “What's your name Filth? It was awful of me to call you that. You didn't do that thing to me. What is your real name?”

I turn the question over in my head. My Orc name, while it wasn't Puppy Kicker as she had quipped, was of the typical warrior Orc variety. No, I didn't want to hear Gabriela's pure voice say that ugly name. As I watch her feeling my skin I see her hand run over the gang tattoo...and I hated it. Oh how I hated it in that moment, and all that it represented. The person who had gotten that tattoo, the person with the dangerous sounding Orc name, was no more. She had died in that ambush up above as surely as the rest.

My mind casts further back...far far back to my childhood. A time in my life I rarely thought about anymore. My non-Orc parents had given me a name. A name I hadn't used since I was thirteen and old enough to truly fight. A name from before I started running with raiders. A name that I had never shared with anyone in my adult life.

I lick my dry lips and swallow again, I wanted to make sure I said it clearly for her. “Willow...my name is...Willow.” It sounded familiar and foreign all at once. It was strange to hear it out loud after all these years.

She looks back up at my face in surprise. “Willow?” I nod. She smiles once more. “What a lovely name. What a beautiful lovely name. Willow.” She laughs. “That was not what I was expecting.” There is an intense moment of connection as we look eye to eye, soul gazing. She blushes and looks down. “I am realizing I have so much to learn. Some things in the Wastes are like they said back home. But...some things aren't. Not at all.”

“Thank...you...for saving...me...Gab....” I break out into a rash of coughing, each causing fresh bursts of pain. Gabby grabs the water jug and offers it to me. I control the coughs and take another long full swallow of the soothing cool water, the jug was almost empty now. The pain eased for the moment I clear my throat and I say again. “Thank you Gabriela.”

She just nods slowly. Then, shaking her head, she takes a deep breath and chirps. “Hey, um, you must be starving! Hope you're ready for some fresh fire roasted toad.”

Was I ever!