Water is Thicker than Blood (post-apocalyptic blues universe) Read online

  Water is Thicker than Blood

  ( Post-Apocalyptic Blues Universe )

  Julie Ann Dawson

  Fifty years after World War III, the residents of New Orleans struggle daily just to survive. Despite being surrounded by the waters of the Mississippi, latent radiation and pollution have made clean drinking water hard to come by. So Rue has reason to worry when their water purifier breaks down and her husband’s depression keeps him from fixing it. She reluctantly accepts the aid of her neighbor’s son Joseph, who had taken to practicing the dark arts at the Circle of Magi.

  But as her husband’s increased hostility makes her more dependent on Joseph just to survive, Rue has to make a decision that will impact not just her own life, but the lives of everyone in Bywater.

  Water is Thicker than Blood is a 9700 word novelette set in the universe of the Post-Apocalyptic Blues campaign setting. More information on the world can be found at bardsandsages.com.

  Julie Ann Dawson

  WATER IS THICKER THAN BLOOD

  (A Post-Apocalyptic Blues novelette)

  Rue had suffered just about all the crap from Hank she could abide.

  The water purifier was still broken, even though he had promised not once, not twice, but three times to get it fixed before their stockpile ran out. But the stockpile of clean water was gone, and even the little bit of gray water she kept on hand for washing was almost done. She sure didn’t have money to pay $25 a gallon at the market for fresh water.

  She walked over to the relic of a sink in the kitchen. It was dark with stains but there wasn’t much she could do about it. The only thing that would clean it was bleach, and bleach was more expensive than water. She turned the rusty knob of the faucet. Nothing came out. Not that she expected anything to come out. Apparently there was a time before Doomsday that you could walk over to any sink, just turn a knob, and clean, fresh water would come out. Sounded like craziness but it was true. She’d even confirmed it with Old Man Blue, who was a boy before the war and remembered.

  Rue took off her grimy apron and walked out onto the porch.

  Maybe Lula would let me borrow some water, she thought. A shiver shot through her as soon as she finished the thought. Rue didn’t have no quarrel with Lula; she was a good Christian woman and been a dear friend all their lives. But that boy of hers surely did not know the fear of a Righteous God. Her son Joseph had fallen in with those people at the Circle of Magi. Even the Queen’s Circle showed proper respect for the Lord. But those people at the Circle of Magi, they didn’t seem to respect nothing but their hocus-pocus and what it could afford them.

  Joseph had changed his name to Joshua Dunwich. Lula had said it was something to do with his occult research and realigning his identity to his path. She didn’t say more than that. Rue sure hadn’t pushed the issue. It was painful for Lula to talk about.

  But Joseph (Rue refused to call him by that Devil-name he had chosen for himself) continued to be a good son and care for his mama. So maybe God still had an opportunity to set the boy back straight.

  Rue took a deep breath and walked across the street to Lula’s house. There were no lights on in the house, but it was the middle of the day and most folks didn’t waste candles or generator fuel if they could just make due with natural light. Old Man Blue said there was a time when all you needed to do was flip a switch and you could get light in just about any building you walked into. Some folks even had light bulbs in their closets to better see the color of their clothes. More crazy-sounding talk. But he was alive back then so she guessed he knew for sure.

  She saw the front door was open, but she didn’t see anyone in the living room. She knocked on the screen door. “Lula? Girl you home?”

  Joseph emerged from the kitchen. He waved and smiled. Rue’s blood ran cold.

  “Why good morning, Ms. Rue,” he said. He opened the screen door and joined her on the porch. “What can I do for you on this fine day?”

  “Is your mama home?”

  “No, ma’am. No she is not. She went off to the Quarter to see about finding a dress for the Court’s open session this month.”

  “She got trouble with someone that she need be calling on the Court?”

  “No, no. No trouble, Ms. Rue. She just heard tell that the Court was taking petitions in regards to the reconstruction efforts. And you know well as I that whenever the Court speak on that subject Lady Rae always there to make her opinions felt.”

  “Oh, that’ll be some fireworks for sure. I’m gonna hate missing that. Just let your mama know I was looking for her when she gets home.”

  “Now Ms. Rue, wait a minute. If the Mister ain’t home from his scavving in time, you are more than welcome to accompany mama and me to the Courthouse if it is you don’t want to go alone.”

  Rue took a deep breath. It was hard to be hating on his Devil-worshipping ways when he was being so polite. He used to be a good boy, she told herself. Being nice to him might help bring him back to the Lord. “It ain’t no part of wanting to not go alone,” she said. “I just ain’t got no money to buy a proper dress for the occasion. Can’t show up at the Courthouse wearing rags. Would be disrespecting on the Baron.”

  “Why Ms. Rue, that does settle the matter, then.” Joseph flashed a wicked grin that set the hair on the back of her neck to standing. “If I recall you do have a birthday coming up soon.”

  “Lawd, I been trying to forget.”

  “Don’t be silly. Birthdays worth celebrating. On that we can all agree. And I know mama been wondering what to get you.” Joseph reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. Rue’s eyes widened. She hadn’t ever seen a wad of money that thick. He pulled a few bills off the pile and handed them to her. “Now why don’t you get yourself a nice dress, and then I’ll be escorted both you ladies to the Court come the open session.”

  “Oh boy, I can’t be taking that from you!” she said as she held up a hand in protest. “Besides, I can’t waste good money on no dress when…” she hung her head and sighed. “Just have your mama come over when she be home.”

  “Ms. Rue, please,” he said. He took her hand and placed the money in it. “This is something you deserve. You a hard-working woman and you have as much right as any to something nice for yourself. Now why don’t you tell me what troubles you and let’s see if I can be of help.”

  “Don’t suppose you know your way around a wrench? Water purifier is broke. Been broke for a week now.”

  “No, can’t say I know much about fixing things. Mr. Hank ain’t had no chance to fix it, I guess?” Rue shook her head. “Well, if you need some water in the meantime, I just conjured up a bunch for mama. She surely would expect me to oblige you in your time of need.”

  “I’ll see it replaced soon as the purifier is up and running again,” Rue insisted.

  “Oh, no need to worry about that. We got plenty. It’s only right to share the bounty with my mama’s friend.” Joseph went back into the kitchen and returned with three gallons of water. “Would you like to me to carry it over for you, ma’am?”

  “Child I can’t accept that much! Your mama—”

  “Never you mind about that. A good son takes care of his mama. No need to worry about her.”

  * * *

  Rue slept in fits and starts. Hank was late coming home from his scavving trip to the Central Business District. She always fretted when he went out there because of all the gangs in the area. He always said the gangs don’t pay scavengers no mind and some of them were right friendly. But if they were so friendly wouldn’t make no sense for the Baron to pay bounties on their
heads.

  Usually Hank and a bunch of his friends just scavved around for scrap metal and electronic parts, as the Engineering Commission paid good money for anything that could be recycled and used for the reconstruction efforts. They normally stuck to the borders of the CBD, where they were least likely to come across anyone that might be looking for trouble. But this time Hank was on a special job for the New Orleans Historical Society. Rue wasn’t up on all of the details, but Mr. Horton had put out a call for someone to go out to one of the old Consulates deep in the center of the CBD and see if there was anything of historical importance there. Seemed a waste to Rue to spend money on salvaging old books and painting with so many people just barely getting by with enough food, but if they were gonna be paying somebody to do it they just as well be paying Hank.

  But he had said he would be home around Monday, and now it was Wednesday and no sign of him. That left her to worrying whether or not he ran into trouble.

  It wasn’t just Hank being late that had her tossing and turning in bed. Joseph had been bringing water by every day for her. Rue had asked Lula about it, and Lula had insisted that it was fine and that she had all the water she needed. But Lula had seemed discomfited as she said it. Like even though the water itself was clean, the way it was acquired was less so. She remembered back to when Joseph had said he had conjured up water for his mama. At the time, she had taken that as a figure of speech. But after talking with Lula she wasn’t so sure.

  For the most part, whatever conjuring those mages at the Circle did they kept behind closed doors. Except for how some of them dressed funny, like how some of them had taken to wearing long robes with odd symbols sewn into them and pointy hats and other peculiar adornments, they didn’t make a show of whatever it was they did. But one couldn’t help but know something was going on in there, because just walking by the place was enough to make little bumps rise up on her arms.

  She got out of bed and walked into the kitchen. Two of the jugs of water he had brought over were sitting on the counter. Devil water, she thought. She unscrewed the top of the jug and held the jug over the sink. She held it there for a minute before setting it back down and replacing the top.

  Even if it was Devil water, it was still water. A body needed water to survive. If she just poured it down the drain, she’d resign herself to death by dehydration. And doing that on purpose would be the same as suicide. And everybody knew suicide was the one sin God could not forgive.

  Rue went back to bed, but didn’t sleep.

  * * *

  “Where you been, woman?” asked Hank as Rue walked in the door. He had found his way home while she and Lula were in the Quarter looking for Rue’s dress.

  “I could ask you the same question, man.” She kept walking toward the bedroom as if she wasn’t happy he was alive. “You forget what day it was? You were supposed to be home Monday.”

  “I ain’t in no mood. What’s in the bag?”

  I ain’t in no mood, either, she thought. “Lula got me a dress for my birthday for as me to wear to the Court next week.”

  “Where the Hell she getting money to buy you a dress?”

  “Lawd! Lawd! What do you care where her money come from? You need to be worrying about that water purifier you still ain’t fixed.”

  “I just got home this morning!”

  “Uh huh. You got home this morning and need to rest, right. That always what you say. Then you’ll rest up and be off again and not do it.”

  “What the Hell are these jugs of water then if you in such a hurry for me to fix it?”

  “Lula’s boy been bringing them over for me to keep me tided over until you drug your sorry ass home.”

  “You taking water from that Devil boy of hers?”

  “Lawd! The boy just been bringing them here. It’s Lula’s water.”

  He didn’t respond. At first, Rue was pleased as she thought she had won the argument. But he didn’t say another word to her the rest of the day. She asked him about how things went on his expedition. He just shrugged and said he was too tired to talk about it and was going to take a nap. But when she went into the bedroom to check on him later he wasn’t sleeping. He was just lying on his side, staring off at the dresser.

  “I made a stew for supper,” she said as she tried to lure him out of the bedroom. “Even got some meat in it. Caught a big, fat opossum in a trap yesterday and used some of the meat in the stew. Rest is in the smoker.”

  “Ain’t hungry.”

  “Well, hungry or no, you should still eat something. Sleeping on an empty stomach ain’t good for you.”

  “Ain’t hungry.”

  “Lawd!”

  Rue ate her supper alone. With Hank not eating, she had a lot of stew left. She hated throwing out food because it was so hard to come by. And she had done a particularly fine job with this batch if she did say so herself. Old Man Blue once said that people used to put leftovers in their refrigerators, which would keep them cold and prevent them from going bad too quick. You could cook up food days in advance and it still be edible when you got around to eating it. They had a refrigerator in the kitchen, but it didn’t have a door and they just used it as shelf space. Even if it had a door, they didn’t have electricity for it to run on. And even if they had electricity, Hank had removed the cord and the motor for scrap sale a long time ago.

  “Damnit!” she screamed. Why did they do it? Why did they destroy the world and leave Rue with nothing but dry faucets and warm refrigerators and lightless lamps? They had everything, and they blew it up and left her with nothing.

  “Rue, honey? You alright?” It was Lula. Rue walked into the front room to see Lula and Joseph standing in front of the screen door looking all concerned at her.

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she lied as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Hank’s home and he’s being a pain in my backside, is all.”

  “We were walking by and heard you yell. Thought something happened to you.”

  “What you doing out at this hour?”

  “We were over in Tremé,” said Joseph.

  “Needed a remedy for my arthritis. It’s acting up again.”

  “I told her I know good people at the Circle that can cure that, but—”

  “Enough! I’ve been getting my remedies from Ms. Joleene for a good number of years now and she’s served me just fine.”

  “Yes, mama.”

  “Did you all eat yet?” asked Rue.

  “No, I gotta go fix us some supper.”

  “I got some stew left over if you want it. Hank ain’t eating and I already ate.”

  “Hank might be hungry later,” said Lula.

  “Or he might not and it will get thrown out.”

  “Well, Mr. Hank is a grown man and can care for himself,” said Joseph. “If you went to the effort of cooking a meal and he don’t appreciate it, would be a shame for it to get thrown out.”

  “Well, true that. Man’s more stubborn than a mule,” said Lula. Rue went into the kitchen and put the cover on the pot. She brought the pot out to Lula. “I’ll have Joseph bring the pot back tomorrow.”

  “Mr. Hank fix that water purifier yet?” Rue shook her head. “Then I’ll return the pot in the morning when I bring by your water.”

  * * *

  It was Hank’s cousin Vale who told Rue what had happened. He had come by to check on Hank, but Hank refused to take visitors. Vale had a fresh wound that looked like someone came real close to cutting his face clean off. Someone had stitched it up in a hurry and put a dressing on it. But the wound was seeping and the bandage had dull red and black-green blotches on it. It was painful for him to talk and painful to watch him suffering while he talked.

  They had found the Consulate Mr. Horton told them about. Even managed to get inside it and find file cabinets on the second and third floors that were full of papers that looked like they were real important at once time. The first floor of the Consulate was completely underwater, but they had managed to climb inside the secon
d floor by walking across a few buckled beams from a collapsed building next door. More importantly, the files were mostly dry and readable. With all of the flooding after Doomsday, it was a rare thing to find large amounts of paper or books that were still legible.

  They had packed up as much as they could carry in the plastic, waterproof containers Mr. Horton had provided them. But on the way out they ran into small band of cannibals. Brice had his shotgun and enough ammo to take down a few of them, but the fight got ugly and one of them cut Vale up bad. Worst, they managed to kill Paul.

  Hank had ordered everyone to run, and so they ran. They left Paul’s corpse there for the surviving cannibals to do with what they wanted. They did manage to salvage most of the containers they had filled.

  Mr. Horton was good to his word and paid them when they delivered the containers of papers. A whole $100 each. When they told him what had happened to Paul, he gave them Paul’s share to give to his widow.

  One hundred dollars, Rue thought. The equivalent of four gallons of clean water. That’s what Paul’s wife got for losing her husband to a bunch of cannibals. A hundred dollars wasn’t enough to treat that infection growing in Vale’s wound, either. It probably didn’t even cover the cost of the ammo Brice spent trying to save their hides and keep them from getting killed. No wonder Hank was in a mood.

  After Vale left, she went looking for Hank. He was sitting on the back stoop. “Not now, woman,” he said as she opened the screen door.

  “Then when? Vale told me what happened. You could have been killed.”

  “But I wasn’t.”

  “But Paul was! And Vale ain’t long for this world if he don’t get that infection cured.”

  “Now you just carrying on like a woman.”

  “And you just carrying on like a man.”

  “So what would you have me do?”

  “You could apply over at the Recycling Center. You know people there and you sold them plenty of scrap in the past. They know you’re a good worker.”