Welcome! Here is the legal stuff. All legal disclaimers are in effect. If laws where you live prohibit reading material of an 'adult' nature or if you are under the minimum legal age required to do so, you should leave this site at once. Please do not read this if homosexual relationships disturb you.
All rights are reserved by the author.
This is a Fictional work. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is coincidental. Only the main character, Andy van Ryan and the brief mention of Terry are based on a real persons.
I hope you enjoy it! Andrew van Ryan
Where No
One Owns the Rain
Part Two
by Andrew Simon van Ryan
Copyright 2000. All Rights Reserved.
"You might as well try and sleep." Zeke told me. "We got about a three hour ride ahead of us. Here." He said and offered me an old blanket and a bag stuffed with old rags as a pillow.
"Sorry." He remarked. "It's all we got right now."
"No problem." I weakly smiled. I was asleep within minutes.
Zeke lay down next to me and stared. He thought of how he had been the one to save me. It made him smile to think I was lying next to him, after he'd spent the last two years searching out every one of my books and reading them. Once he was sure that I was asleep he moved closer.
"I love you, Andrew van Ryan." He whispered.
I was jarred awake by the sudden braking of the truck. Raising up on one elbow I peeked to see where we were. The single lane road we'd turned onto was blocked by a towering metal gate topped with razor wire. Above this stood a haphazardly erected arch. In the middle of the arch was a hand-lettered sign reading 'Heaven'.
The truck stopped for a second as a small slit opened in the gate and two intense blue eyes peered out. The opening slammed shut and the huge gate began to creak open. Zeke stirred on the truck bed next to me. He abruptly sat up, rubbing his eyes.
"This is Heaven?" I questioned while contemplating the rusted metal portal now yawning before us. The driver revved the trucks engine and it rolled forward. The inner roadway was reddish colored soil bordered on each side by tall grasses and tropical plants. I could see where the road entered the jungle a few hundred feet ahead. I turned my attention to the rear window and viewed a young man dressed in camouflage hurrying to shut the gateway. Securing it shut, he turned and ran after us.
Zeke let down the tailgate and the young man dove headlong. The strength of his leap nearly landed him face first in my lap!
"Hey, Brian! Take it easy!" Zeke cried out. He reached over him and pulled the tailgate shut.
Brian looked up at me with light steel-grey eyes His dirty blonde hair grew in loose ringlets that framed a grinning boyish face.
"Are you him?" Brian asked showing his excitement.
"I think I am." I replied. Then I wrinkled my brow and asked "Is it Andy you're looking for?"
Brian nodded rapidly. "Uh, huh."
"Yea. I'm Andy." I said. I was beginning to wonder why both of them were so happy about having me in their presence. Then it struck me. They were getting a reward for bringing me in. I wanted to bolt from the truck but my captors were between me and escape. I was so damn tired. I figured I was done for now. My shoulders melted against the back of the truck cab. I put my head down and began crying. Damn it! I'd almost made my escape, only to be lured into a trap.
As I began to cry, Brian's' broad smile started to slowly morph into a gaping frown filled with unsure questions. He turned his gaze to Ezekiel, who stared back at Brian. 'What?' was stenciled into his eyes.
"Hey, Andy?" Zeke asked softly. "Are you OK?"
"I thought I got away..." They heard my tired voice whisper.
"From who?" Brian asked.
"Andy, Who are you thinking you got away from?" Zeke quizzed me.
"You..." I weakly answered.
The two stared at each other dumbfounded. Brian turned to me and said "Why would you want to get away from Zeke? He came to your rescue."
I just whimpered with my head down. The two young men were confused. They didn't know what thoughts were running through my fatigued mind. Trying to comprehend my sudden withdrawal Zekes mind raced. Then it struck him.
"Andy. Hey, we're the good guys. You did get away, this isn't a trap." He said to me.
"Huh?" I said softly as my head rose from it's downward gaze.
"You did make it. We're the resistance." Zeke reaffirmed.
"I did? I made it?" I asked in a daze.
"Yeah." Brian added. "You're a hero to us here. Didn't you know that?"
"I didn't get time to tell him." Zeke quickly interjected.
"You didn't? Why not?" An astonished Brian asked.
"Hero?.." I questioned faintly, now completely confused.
"Yeah, Andy!" Brian said. The excitement began creeping back into his voice. "You're famous here. You're the guy who predicted all this was going to happen and the guy who explained how to stop it."
Brian's' smile fell, giving way to an intense, serious gaze.
"You are Andy van Ryan the writer, aren't you?" He asked.
"Of course he is!" Zeke cried sharply at Brian as I nodded my shaky head.
"Yeah. I'm Andy.." I said sounding very distant, almost unconscious. The two watched as my eyes rolled back in their sockets and I collapsed over onto my side. Then I really was unconscious.
It was over four hours later when I woke from passing out. I was slowly becoming aware of voices. Voices distant and whispered voices in close proximity. Multiple voices. All repeating, over and over, some thing familiar. Something I should know, but I wasn't sure
"Andy? Hey, Andy. Can you hear me?" The voice was asking. I became aware that the voice was talking to me and I reacted. My eyes fluttered open. I was looking at three individuals, but my vision was blurred.
"Uhh." Was the only sound I was able to mutter. The three figures began moving and my eyes struggled to focus. As they slowly began to crystallize into recognizable form, I saw Zeke and Brian. The third individual was tall, thin and had long reddish blonde hair hanging to his shoulders. His eyes were a muddy hazel, yet they seemed to be lit from within. Eyes that could see into anyone. His face was still boyish, giving the impression that he was no more than nineteen.
"Andy, are you OK?" Zeke said bending down to kneel next to the mattress I was lying on.
"Wha.. I don't.. Where are we?" I stuttered through the fog in my head. Surveying the room I noticed it was a small, wooden structure. Open windows with screen and no glass let in the late afternoon sun. The door to the room was open and I could see dense trees outside.
"You're in Heaven" said the tall youthful figure. "And I'm Gabriel."
"What happened Andy? You seemed OK, then you said something about getting away and passed out." Brian asked.
"I don't know, I thought maybe you were skin traders and were turning me in for a reward." I answered in a slow, dizzy manner. The three figures began laughing at my response.
"Reward!" Zeke shouted.
"Guess he doesn't know how much he's worth to us!" Gabriel chuckled.
"Who are you anyway?" I asked, cutting through the fog toward rational thoughts.
"The creatures of all your dreams and nightmares." Gabriel replied. "We are the Underground, the army of liberation to free the United States."
I stared at the youthful figure before me. Was he serious? Fight the Armed Forces of the USA? Not possible I thought. And why was I of value to them?
"Why did you come to find me?" I asked, my mind now beginning to return to a semi-normal state.
"Because you're a hero to these men and boys, Andy. You warned this would happen and it did. You said how to stop it and we will." Gabriel stated.
Then It hit me. He was talking about DatManDead, the book where I had forecast a world very much like the one that existed now. I had also outlined a campaign of computer warfare designed to create havoc. Much like random terrorism, but with a twist. The book sold poorly when first issued. It was dismissed by critics as 'pure fantasy' and attacked by some as 'anti-patriotic'. When Conner came to power, the remaining copies were suddenly snatched up by the young and newly oppressed homosexuals. They realized my prediction of government control slipping into the hands of those who hate was coming true right in front of their eyes.
When the books sales jumped, my publisher called and indicated he was going to do a second printing. He changed his mind the next morning when his offices were burned overnight.