As Krista liked to say, everything was in a pile and there was a pile for everything. Not that Summer cared. Her mess was still her mess and that was all that mattered.
She kissed the tip of her finger before touching it lightly to the faded photograph stuck to the edge of the mirror. The tape holding it in place had lost some of its grip, but it was still doing its job, mostly, clinging to life like most everyone else on the planet.
Summer ran her finger around the outline of her older sister, Hope, who wore a fancy dress and even fancier makeup. Her outfit was all white with lace trimmings, a perfect complement to her blonde hair that was done up nicely, working its way into a twisted fray that rose eight inches above her head.
Hope stood next to their amazing brother Blaze, with Summer on the other side of him, all three locked arm-in-arm, looking the part of the happy siblings.
Little did Summer know at the time, but that would be the last time she saw her brother Blaze alive. An IED would take him out once he returned to active duty a short while later. No warning. No mercy. No chance to kiss him goodbye with a peck on the cheek. One day, he was just gone. Dead. Blown into a million pieces.
At least her nightmares about him crawling around in the dirt of Iraq looking for his legs had stopped. That haunting took years to fade, but it finally had.
Blaze was older than Hope, six years to be exact. He looked proud, standing in his polished lieutenant’s uniform, his hair high and tight and waist trim.
Even after all this time, she missed her family more than anything else. More than chocolate. More than a warm bath in a private room. More than her own seat in the back of the library where the building’s heating system worked to control the temperature.
Her long-lost family was an open wound, one she knew would probably never heal, no matter how many times she convinced herself to push past it and suck it up, like Krista always said to do.
The gash on her face was bad, but nothing compared to the pain in her chest. While one of them would never heal, the other would, but only if she took care of it before it got infected. That meant a trip to go see Liz in the infirmary and get a little TLC.
A quick turn of her heels and a fast walk took her from her room and down the hall. Her backpack was now over one shoulder instead of two as she worked her way past the mess hall and down the green corridor that connected the silo to the control pod.
The medical bay was a few minutes away. Hopefully, Liz would be there so Summer didn’t have to go looking for her, increasing odds of a run-in with Krista along the way.
The first ladder was clear, allowing her to make quick work of the painted rungs to the next floor. Her feet hit the deck in a clank of galvanized metal. The catwalk was narrow, but she was able to work her way around the outside of the hydroponics bay, using the handrail to keep her balance.
A window on her right gave her a priority view of the plants, mirrors, and grow lights hanging inside what used to be the missile bay.
Edison’s genius was on full display—the greenery was in full bloom. Summer wasn’t a huge fan of vegetables, but they were growing on her.
A girl’s gotta eat, even if it’s nothing more than tasteless rabbit food. Yuck.
Two kids were up ahead—a boy and a girl—sitting on the floor near a ninety-degree corner in the hallway. Summer wasn’t sure where their parents were, but at least they weren’t crying. If she had to guess, neither of them was more than five years old.
“Have you seen my mommy?” the blond-haired girl asked when Summer arrived, her voice soft and adorable. The boy remained quiet, staring at Summer with his baby blues blinking rapidly.
The two looked related, though the boy had curly red hair, so maybe not. Summer bent down on one knee, feeling compelled to comfort the kids, especially at this hour of the night. “No honey, I haven’t. Are you lost?”
“Mommy told us to wait here until she got back.”
“How long ago was that?”
The girl shrugged.
“What’s your name?” Summer asked her.
“Emily.”
Summer looked at the boy. “And who might you be?”
“That’s my brother Josh,” the girl said, tugging at Summer’s sleeve.
Summer ignored the yank. “I’m Summer,” she said to the boy, hoping he might speak.
The boy giggled but didn’t respond.
Emily yanked again on Summer’s sleeve and spoke in her little girl’s voice. “What happened to your face, Summer?”
Summer looked at her, not wanting to scare the child with any of the gory details. “Oh, nothing really. Just had a little accident, which is why I’m on my way to see the doctor right now.”
“I don’t like the doctor,” the girl said. “It always hurts.”
Summer scanned both intersecting hallways but didn’t see anyone. She needed to get moving but didn’t want to leave these two children alone.
Just then, a man appeared at the end of the hallway, far beyond the girl. Summer pointed, then asked Emily, “Is that your dad?”
“No. We don’t have a daddy.”
Summer’s heart sank, knowing what these kids were going through. She didn’t have a dad, either. Or a mom, for that matter. In fact, if it weren’t for Edison and his wife June taking her in after her parents were killed, she would have spent her younger days in a foster home.
Life throws a ton of grief at everyone, but Summer felt like she’d had more heaped on her than most.
First some terrorist took out her older brother Blaze. That was bad enough, but then Hope ran off to college and disappeared, only days before a car accident that claimed the lives of her parents.
Sometimes she felt like the Universe had decided to focus on her and her alone, unloading on her life with more grief than any newly minted teenager should ever have to deal with.
Summer decided these kids needed a friend and someone to watch over them, just like Edison and June had done for her.
She took off her pack and unzipped the main pouch. Her hand went in and pulled out the crayons she managed to save after her ordeal in the basement of the cannery. She split them up, giving some to Emily and some to Josh.
“What are these?” Emily asked, sniffing the wax.
Obviously born after The Event, Summer reminded herself quietly. They’d missed out on all the cool stuff, like video games and cotton candy. “They’re called crayons. You draw with them.”
Emily grabbed her brother’s arm and ran the crayon across his skin in a zigzag pattern. Nothing happened. The girl’s face scrunched in frustration.
Summer couldn’t help but laugh. “No silly, like this,” she said, taking the girl’s hand and making the letter X on the cement wall with the tip of the crayon.
“Oh, cool,” Emily said as the man in hallway walked past, taking a left and vanishing a short minute later around another corner.
The boy started to draw on the wall but stopped as his eyes went wide. He pointed. “Mommy!”
Summer brought her eyes around in time to see a slender redhead closing fast with a shoebox in her left hand.
Summer got to her feet.
The woman arrived in a huff, never making eye contact with Summer.
“Here you go,” the mother said, giving the box to Josh. She grabbed both kids by the hand and tugged. “Come on, it’s bed time.”
Summer watched Josh and Emily being towed away, wondering why the woman seemed so pissed. All Summer was doing was keeping the kids company. No harm in that.
A moment later, precious little Emily looked back over her shoulder and waved at Summer just before the family turned the corner and vanished. Just like Hope had done.