Road Rash by Dharma Kelleher

Author:Dharma Kelleher [Kelleher, Dharma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781952128189
Publisher: Dark Pariah Press

Chapter 25

The Brand

The bonfire was visible long before Shea reached the Seedling camp. A stack of wood roughly five feet tall and about ten feet in diameter had been erected and lit. Roaring flames shot high into the sky. Her fellow white bars sat on logs surrounding the fire.

Shea arrived just as they were passing out skewers for roasting marshmallows. Shea had vague recollections of spending time as a kid around a campfire with the Confederate Thunder families. Only now, the scent of weed didn’t hang in the air. No music blaring from a boom box, competing with the rumble of a Harley being revved. No drunk bikers stumbling around making lewd comments toward her or getting beaten half to death by her father for making those comments.

No, this bonfire was tame and boring. Group songs, cheers, corny jokes, and ghost stories. And Shea had to admit that she liked it. Even though she was pissed at the higher-ups for kicking out Indigo. Even though her knee again felt like a ripe melon about to burst. Even though something nefarious may have been going on, leading Megan to starve herself. Still, something about this place and this group of fellow newbies felt like home. It made no sense. But she let herself enjoy it.

A couple of hours later, when the fire had burned down to smoldering embers, the white bars gathered together for one last circle, each one telling the group something they liked about another member of the group they had met that day.

More than one person said they liked Shea for her boldness and tell-it-like-it-is attitude. Shea was surprised. She wasn’t used to being liked by these save-the-world types. When it was her turn, Shea complimented Gayle for her kindness.

That night, she slept soundly despite the crinkly plastic cover on the mattress. Despite the strange surroundings. Despite the discomfort in her leg. And despite a middle-of-the-night trip to the latrine.

In the morning, she woke up feeling better than she had since before her accident. Dr. Linda’s words rang in her head. She would get a good night’s sleep and wake up refreshed. Sure, her leg throbbed a bit, but it didn’t burn or ache the way it had. Maybe it was true. Maybe Luminos would teach her how to free herself from fear and pain and limits of any kind.

Her anger over Indigo’s expulsion and her concerns over what Luminos was really doing to women faded to the back of her mind.

She sat up and looked around. Gayle was wearing a long nightshirt with a graphic from the feminist punk band the Pink Trinkets. She was drying her wet hair with a towel.

“You like the Trinks?” Shea asked, surprised. She’d figured the woman would be more likely a Kenny G fan. Maybe Sarah McLachlan. But not the Trinks.

Gayle beamed. “Oh, yeah. I first discovered them when they opened for Ani DiFranco about ten years ago. Loved their style. Perfect mix of humor and feminism, with a raging, rocking beat.

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