“Shit.”
“Not exactly the kind of response Nirvana needs from its new leader.”
“Those two were pretty close.”
“I get that, but a leader has to be strong in a time of crisis. No matter who they lose on their watch.”
“Do you know if Liz had a talk with her first, or did Summer find out the hard way?”
“I think they talked, not that it should matter.”
Krista paused a few beats to visualize the trauma that Summer must have gone through when she heard the news about Morse.
If Summer was anything like her, and that was a stretch when discussing most topics, then she’d need something to take her mind off the heartache. Busy hands and busy minds help keep the grief from consuming all you are. “Did Summer address the camp while I was gone?”
“No. Like I said, she just went AWOL.”
“Did anyone check her quarters? She likes to hide there when things get rough.”
“I did. No sign of her.”
Krista paused for a few seconds, scanning her memories. This wasn’t the first time the girl had gone off the grid, nor was it the first time Krista had to conduct a search for her. “I know a few spots where she might be. I’ll see if I can find her.”
Zimmer shook his head, looking disappointed, before he spoke again. “To offer support to someone who shouldn’t need it?”
“That’s the plan.”
Zimmer nodded, though it looked more involuntary than a sign of agreement. His eyes darted left and right for a few moments before he spoke again. “There is another way you could handle it.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Just let her flail away in some dark hole somewhere, then ask for a replacement vote when Nirvana starts to fail without its newly-crowned leader. The way’s she’s going, she’ll make it easy.”
“I’d rather play this straight, Rod, if you don’t mind. Got to give the girl a chance.”
“Normally yes, but there’s more at stake here than just her feelings.”
“I agree. But let me go have a chat with her. I’m sure I can get things back on track.”
“I hope you realize you’re missing a golden opportunity here, if you know what I mean.”
“I know full well what you mean.”
“Then?”
“Then nothing,” Krista said with confidence, slapping the man on the back. “Thanks for the update. I’ll take it from here.”
Krista brought her eyes around to Wicks, who had just entered the far end of the corridor and was walking her way with a blanket and a bowl of food in his hands.
CHAPTER 22
Summer knocked on the door to Liz’s quarters and waited for a response with Sergeant Barkley at her feet. The golden shepherd had made tremendous improvement, getting stronger and nimbler with each passing hour, though he still needed a bath. Maybe two of them—the stench was now mutating into its own lifeform.
She didn’t know if the dog’s lack of understanding about how badly he was hurt had actually helped in his recovery or not, but she was starting to think it had.
If you know you are supposed to take much longer to heal, the power of that suggestion might actually cause that exact thing to happen. That would also mean not knowing how badly you are injured would bring about the opposite.
Her theories seemed logical; then again, maybe the canine was just a wonder mutt, built to take a beating and never slow down. Either way, she was happy her new friend was feeling better.
When Summer didn’t get a response from the doctor, she knocked again, only this time twice as hard. “Hey Liz. It’s me, Summer. You in there? I need to speak to you for a minute.”
“Hang on,” Liz said from inside, her tone heavy and terse.
Summer leaned in and listened to the sounds coming from the other side of the door. First there was a clap of wood, like a door slamming. Maybe it was a drawer closing—no way to know for sure. Then the rustle of metal on metal landed on her ears. It was lightly pitched and included several pinging sounds.
When Summer heard footsteps stacked together and getting louder, she straightened up only a split second before the door opened.
“Sorry about that,” Liz said in a breathy voice, greeting Summer with an ankle-length robe wrapped around her body. Her hair was a mess and she wasn’t wearing her glasses.
Summer stumbled over the words as they arrived on her tongue, hoping Liz didn’t detect that she’d been eavesdropping. “Uh, sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, just getting cleaned up. Haven’t had a chance until now.”
Summer looked down at the dog, then rubbed his back with a quick scrub of her fingers. “Need to do the same with him. Whew! Getting a little ripe.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
Summer smirked, wondering if she should issue another apology for bringing the dog along. She decided against it. Might make her sound weak in front of her friend. “Anyway, I checked medical first but you weren’t there, so I thought I’d try here. Sorry for the intrusion.”
“It’s fine, Summer,” Liz said. “What did you want to speak to me about?”
Summer held up the tri-fold piece of paper she’d found in Morse’s lab. “I think I know what Red radio thirty-five means.”
Liz paused for a moment, then turned sideways and held out her hand. “The place is a bit of mess, but come on in.”
After Liz found a seat, Summer stood in front of her and unfolded the paper. “I found this hidden in his lab. The envelope had my initials on it, so I’m pretty sure Morse left this for me.”
“What does it say?”
“See, that’s the thing. I think it’s written in longhand and they never taught us that in school, you know, before The Event,” Summer gave the letter to Liz. “Can you read it for me?”
The doc took a good two minutes to peruse the words, then she stopped and wiped her cheeks, whisking away the tears that had found their way down her skin. “I don’t think I’ve ever read anything more beautiful in my entire life.”
Summer wanted to cry, too, even though she had no idea why, other than the feeling in her chest. “What does it say?”
Liz cleared her throat. “Let me read it you. But you might want to sit down first. It’s rather long.”
Summer took the chair next to Liz, keeping her hands on her knees. The wetness of her palms seemed to be escalating, making her squeeze the cloth covering her knees.
Liz looked at Summer for a moment and smiled, then peered down at the page and started reading the words aloud:
My Dearest Summer,
If you are reading this, it means my illness finally got the better of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my condition, but the last thing I wanted was anyone’s sympathy.
By the way, Stuart was never told. Neither were Krista and the rest of The Committee. I swore Liz to secrecy, so don’t blame her or anyone else for not telling you. She was only doing her job and keeping my confidence.
This was my decision and mine alone. I hope you can respect that.
You’ve been a wonderful friend over the years and I don’t want to leave this world without telling you how special you are. You mean the world to me.
You are a truly amazing young lady and I think you have a bright future ahead of you, even in this God-forsaken world of ours.
Please listen to Stuart and follow his advice. He loves you as much as I do and only wants the best for you. As do I.
The same goes for guidance you will receive from Liz, and even Krista. I know you two don’t get along as well as I would have hoped, but you can always change the nature of things.
Nothing is ever set in stone. Nothing. Remember that. There are always options. Always remedies. You only have to make the conscious decision to look for them and then take action.
One of the things I’ve learned over my lifetime is that people can change, as can relationships. They evolve and grow, just like everything else on this planet.
It starts with forgiveness, then continues with the return of hope. Hope for you and those around you.
But for that to happen, you must tend to everyone’s needs and give them nourishment. That’s when amazing things can and will happen. Even with something that’s almost dead.
Our frozen world is a perfect example. Life always finds a way. So do human contacts and relationships. Anything can be revived with the proper amount of planning and execution.
With that preaching behind me, I need to ask you a huge favor, one I hope you will consider and then carry out in my stead. It won’t be easy, but I have every faith in you.
We need to finish repairing the transmitter before it’s too late. Then convince Edison to make the broadcasts. We must determine if anyone else is out there with technology or supplies we can use.
It’s beyond important that we do this. In fact, it’s mission critical if we hope to keep Nirvana going.
If for some reason the calculations I’ve written on the board in red are not yet complete, then Edison will need to finish them for me. What I have is close, but there are some variables that don’t quite add up. He will explain it all once he digs into them. They will not only demonstrate how dire the situation will become; they will help convince him to make the calls. At least, that is my hope. With him, one can never be certain.
When each new day begins, I change the number circled in red. It signifies how many days I believe we have remaining and serves as a visual reminder of the work that remains to be done.
I wish I could be more forthcoming about the true nature of the calculations, but I fear that someone other than you will find this letter.
Edison will need to explain the rest, once he’s had a chance to absorb all that we face. However, there’s a chance Edison may not be able to complete them on his own, given that he wasn’t the best student in graduate school.
If my premonition holds true, then he’ll need the rainbow-colored notebook I keep under the mattress in my quarters. It contains additional observations I’ve made along the way, though none of them have been vetted -- yet. I’m afraid they’re only conjecture at this point, but that’s what science is until it’s proven – nothing more than observation and theory.
Whatever else happens from here on out, you must not give up until Edison agrees to repair the radio and start making the calls.
If he refuses, you need to take it to The Committee and convince them to overrule. The very future of Nirvana is at stake.
As the final curtain draws near, I wish I had more inspirational words to share with you. Something more profound and meaningful. But as you know, I’m not the most eloquent man, especially when it comes to emotional situations or goodbyes. I tend to keep my thoughts short and emotions hidden, never to get lost in the minutiae of the moment.
In closing, let me say that I will miss you, my dearest Summer, more than any other in my lifetime. I am honored to have known you and to have called you my friend.
Please, never forget me because I will always remember you, no matter where I end up once I’ve taken my last breath.
I wish you Godspeed with the rest of your life.
Make it count.
Make it grand.
Make it memorable.
Don’t wait until you are old and gray like me before you find your passion.
Love always,
Alex
CHAPTER 23
Krista took the next corner in the silo, pushing her feet past the bulkhead that led into the cafeteria. The bustle of citizens enjoying their daily allotment of food was almost deafening, their forks and knives clinking against the metal plates and the buzz of their high-pitched voices working against each other in a fight for auditory dominance.
The pace of her feet picked up, out of both instinct and need, wondering where Summer was hiding. The girl was always one to react first, then think, meaning she could be anywhere.
Zimmer had wanted Krista to leave the girl alone, letting her flail away in sorrow, only to use it against her when the next new crisis hit Nirvana.
His plan was valid, but only for those with certain intentions on their mind. The kind of intentions that included a planned mutiny or other underhanded actions.
Krista took the next left, then ran smack into Summer’s chest. The two of them bounced off each other and spun sideways in an off-balance stumble. Krista righted herself, then lunged forward to grab Summer’s elbow, spinning the girl around to face her.
“Get out of my way!” Summer shrieked, her face full of tears. Her hands went into fight mode, obviously hoping to break free and make a quick exit.
Krista doubled her grip to keep the girl under control. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Summer twisted sideways, continuing her resistance. “Let go of me!”
Krista set her feet, adding to her strength. “No, not until we have a talk.”
“Let go of her,” Liz said in a huff, her face appearing in the corridor ahead. “I said, let her go!”
Krista wasn’t sure why, but the tone of Liz’s second command convinced her to release her grip.
Summer pulled away an instant later and resumed her emotional trek down the hall, her legs taking long, awkward steps with a trail of tears marking her path.
Liz arrived with a shortness to her breath. “You need to let her be.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“She just found a letter from Alex. It was addressed to her.”
“What kind of letter?”
“The kind that makes emotional young ladies even more so.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means she needs a moment to collect herself. And we need to give it to her.”
“Okay, but where is she going? Her room isn’t that way.”
“To his quarters,” Liz said. “Apparently, he left something for her. Well, actually, for all of us.” Liz waved a hand at Krista to follow in the same direction as Summer. “A notebook.”
When Krista and Liz arrived at Morse’s quarters, they found the door open and Summer on the floor, crying in a kneeling crouch, her hands outstretched and flat.
Liz brushed past Krista and went to Summer, also dropping to her knees. Her arms went around the girl, wrapping her in a sideways hug.
Krista ran a visual sweep of the room. It was empty. Not a stitch of furniture or anything else. Certainly not a notebook. Only the bare walls and floor remained, with the smell of cleaning solution in the air, which meant only one thing. The reclamation crew had already come through, clearing and cleaning the room for sanitation reasons.
It was one of Edison’s long-standing rules. Foundational rules. Rules that he and June had established back when Nirvana was first envisioned.
When someone died, their rooms were to be immediately emptied in case of lingering bio-hazard. That was the official reason. In truth, it was mostly done for personal reasons. A respect for the dead type thing.
Edison didn’t want gawkers or trinket hunters to arrive, pilfering whatever remained. It’s a human reaction, one in which looting becomes the norm, when everyone does without for so long.
Some would abscond with items for themselves. Others would do it for their children. All of them driven by the need to survive, gathering that extra tidbit that might help keep them alive or sane for one more day.
Edison believed by removing everything, there would be nothing left to steal. It would also render the possessions meaningless, once they were repurposed and mixed in with the supplies in inventory—all of it set to be repurposed, once the bio-hazard possibility had been ruled out.
“We have to find it,” Summer cried out.
“We will,” Liz answered, still holding Summer in an embrace.
“Then we better hurry,” Krista said. “Some of his stuff is certainly headed for the incinerator.”
Summer crawled out of Liz’s hug and pushed to her feet. She turned and took a deep breath, then the look on her face morphed from one o
f anguish to one of seasoned confidence.
Krista stood in amazement as the emotional wreck transformed herself into someone new, and did so almost instantly, with nothing more than a bold new breath and a wipe of her cheek with her sleeve.
“This ends now,” Summer said in a poised tone, holding out a hand to Liz. “Let’s go.”
The brunette latched onto Summer, their palms wrapped around each other. The scrawny leader of Nirvana helped the healer from the floor with only a lean and a single yank.
The pair walked toward Krista in lockstep, then Summer put out her free hand and snatched Krista’s as well.
The trio marched out the door and into the hallway as a team, their feet finding a common rhythm in each step, as if the maneuver had been rehearsed for months.
Krista wasn’t sure how to explain the sudden swell of pride in her chest. It was profound, almost as if the three of them had just formed an unspoken union. A female union, one in which their collective skills would now meld together and lead Nirvana into the future.
It was the strangest sensation. Plus, it had come out of nowhere, catching her both off guard and unaware. Krista had no inkling that such a cabal could ever exist, particularly if one considered their combative history and disparate backgrounds.
None of it would make sense on paper, yet it did in reality, perfectly.
Right then, Krista remembered something Edison liked to tout in moments of great doubt: Out of tragedy, comes hope.
More so when enemies become friends, finding that common ground that binds them all.
* * *
Fletcher led his team on foot across the twin railroad tracks and past the rusted overhang protecting the passenger bench. He remembered that seat well from his teenage years, a familiar place where riders from all over the county would gather for the next scheduled train to arrive, none of them, like him, aware of what the frozen future would entail.
Frozen World (Book 2): Silo [Hope's Return] Page 14
