Yet, the slowness of time wasn’t the worst problem. It was the utter lack of privacy, and the fact that she was forced to wear the same damned clothes over and over.
Both can make a girl crazy. Or desperate, willing to take chances she wouldn’t normally take. Like wearing a bright red bandana during a Seeker Mission for food and supplies. Anything to change things up.
The storeroom in the back greeted her next, its floor littered with castoffs. Stuff was everywhere—a junkyard for the damned, she called it, bringing about a twisted smile on her lips. The grin was not out of a sense of amusement. It was in reference to her little home away from home.
Someone had gone through the store long before she’d found it. That much was obvious. They’d skipped whole groups of items: trinkets, flip-flops, hand-carved elephants, kids’ toys, and board games, tossing useless possessions about during their frantic search for something life-sustaining.
Desperate citizens have their priorities, just like young girls who are in search of an escape. While a mob went on the hunt for food, supplies, or ammo, Summer had a different need—one that would feed her desire for a different life.
What the throng missed, she’d found by mistake. It was hidden along the back wall, behind the built-in shelving unit. Summer bent down and found the release under the loose baseboard and pulled it. The safety latch clicked, then the unit swung open on its hinges to let her inside.
The passage led to a secret room about ten feet across and just as deep. The blue paint on the walls had been sullied by handwritten scribbles, mostly in white chalk.
Random names and other doodles were drawn at random angles with dates underneath. To the left was a family of stick figures holding hands—two large and two small. Above them were the names—Hector, Silvia, Edwardo, and Marta—written in red.
What she found odd was the prevalence of three capital letters: I-C-E. Each time they appeared on the walls, the letters were crossed out with multiple lines, as if someone was angry at the time.
Summer hated the snow and ice, too, but wondered why I-C-E was such a focal point before The Event. She couldn’t ask her mentor, Edison, because then she’d have to tell him about this secret room.
An old beanbag chair took up most of the space in the corner on the right. It was next to a wooden crate, with twelve piles of paperback books nearby. Each stack stood as tall as the crate—waist-high and sorted in alphabetical order by title.
The light fixture in the center of the ceiling didn’t have a bulb and the toilet in the corner no longer had a supply of water in the bowl. The sink next to it was also out of order, but at least the knee-high pyramid of cans she’d scavenged was still intact. Peaches mostly, plus a good supply of chunky tuna. Her favorite.
Summer had decided years ago that not everything needed to find its way back to the others. They would never know if she kept a little in reserve, storing them here as she went. Besides, a little treat now and then was a fair and just reward for those, like her, who would go out and take the risk. She figured everyone would agree with that position as she walked to the crate.
She snatched her trusty board with an upturned nail and moved it to the center of the crate. It took a few seconds to scrape the remnants of melted wax from the base of the nail with her thumbnail.
Summer dropped her pack, opened it, then pulled out the wad of bubble wrap. Her fingers dug through the air-filled plastic and snatched the most prized possession she owned—a brand new, six-inch long candle. She held its thick base to her nose and took in a long draw of air. “Damn, that’s nice.”
It took a bit of force, but the virgin candle slid down the sharp end of the nail, spearing the length of wax by an inch. A strike-anywhere match came out of her pack next. She lit it, then applied the flame to the wick.
The room glowed in a random flicker, while the scent of watermelon filled the air. Summer smiled as she walked to the stacks of books she’d collected and began to sift through them. Most at the bottom she’d read, but she found two that she hadn’t near the middle.
She thought about taking three books with her this time since her available reading time had increased in recent weeks due to the swarm of Scab activity, forcing the leaders of Nirvana to slow mission assignments. However, she thought it might bring bad luck to change her routine, so she decided to keep with tradition and only take two novels. No reason to chance it. Bad luck has a tendency to mount over time, especially when you egg it on and ignore the negative karma that comes with it.
The new books went into the pack and the old ones came out. Seconds later, they found their way back into her inventory, sorted by title, of course.
While she was in her knapsack, she snatched the church key opener and put it on the table, then grabbed a can of peaches from the reserve stack she’d built.
The label said Del Monte Sliced Peaches, four of the most delicious words in the entire world. Well, those and Sugar Added. The printed expiration date was long in the past, but she wasn’t worried, not after the deep freeze that ravaged the world for almost a decade. In effect, the entire planet had become a giant freezer unit, keeping her bounty safe until she found it.
The weather had done the same with all the human popsicles, at least until the thaw began. That’s when the Scabs and coyotes took care of the meat.
She couldn’t wait any longer, using the can opener to cut around the lid and give her access to the powerful rush of sustenance she knew waited inside. Her head went back and the can came up, pouring the sugary sweetness into her mouth.
It was nectar from the gods, racing down her gullet toward the promised land. She couldn’t imagine a more fulfilling sensation than that, other than maybe finally having sex, with some hot guy no less, and then soaking with him in a bubble bath.
Summer let her mind hold on to that sudden vision of nakedness, warmth, soap, and complete and total satisfaction, then flushed it away as she used the fork from her backpack to finish off the bits of food remaining in the container.
After tossing the can into the corner with a plink, she spun around and flopped her butt into the beanbag chair with her head back and arms flying out to the side like a dead body.
“Now this is what I’m talking about!”
Doctor Liz Blackwell adjusted her backside in the office chair next to Krista Carr, wondering if the Security Chief would ever soften her stance—on anything.
Dr. Stuart Edison finished his most recent statement from behind his desk, motioning with his hands as he spoke. “I understand how you feel, Krista, but we can’t start ousting members simply because they break a rule here and there. It happens. People are not perfect.”
Krista’s tone intensified. “Yes, mistakes happen, Professor. But our community can’t survive without law and order.”
“I understand why you feel that way, especially with your military background. I used to believe the same as you, but my beloved June always believed in compassion for everyone, even those who make mistakes. Her convictions changed my mind and I think over time, they will change yours, too.”
Liz decided to add to the conversation, figuring it was wise to help sell the professor’s viewpoint to Krista. “He’s right. June gave her very life for that notion. It’s something we all need to do—have empathy for everyone. Even those who screw up.”
Krista snorted a quick breath, clenching her fists. “Look, I get the whole kumbaya approach. I really do. But it’s not that simple. Laws exist to maintain discipline and keep order. Summer keeps breaking them. We simply don’t have a choice anymore. Her selfishness is putting everyone in danger.”