Page 28 of Us Deadly Few

“That’s right, blossom.” He smiled. “There’s a big faucet in the sky. When the flowers are sad, someone turns it on. The rain makes the flowers happy, and they can grow big and strong. Just like you.” He playfully pinched her nose.

Her forehead creased, eyes turning downcast.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned.

“I wish it rained down here.” Her bottom lip quivered. “That means the flowers aren’t happy.”

His lips curved in a soft smile as he tucked the sheets around her. “Don’t worry. You’re going to see rain tonight.”

“How?”

“In here.” He tapped her forehead. “Your mind is so creative and powerful that all you have to do is imagine anywhere in the world you want to go, and when you sleep at night, your dreams will take you there.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He kissed her forehead. “Get some rest, my little dreamer.”

As he turned to leave, she stopped him with one last question.

“Papa, will we ever go back to the surface?”

He glanced over his shoulder, his smile faltering, as if he knew the next words out of his mouth would be a lie, but he wanted to give her hope.

Hope was all that remained.

“Yes. One day.”

Khalani’s eyes fluttered open, the warmth of her father’s eyes fading as she was thrust back to the cold, abandoned building on the surface.

She rarely dreamed of her parents.

Was the memory even real?

Rubbing the corners of her crusted eyes, she sat up. Soft snores echoed from Adan, who sprawled out to her left. Everyone was still fast asleep.

She stood quietly, stretching her arms, ignoring the never-ending tension in her neck.

Every morning, her sore muscles seemed to whisper,

“Savor this moment, because it’s all downhill from here.”

She tiptoed around the sleeping bodies. The howling wind had ceased its assault against the building, and she wandered past the barricaded windows.

Streaks of sunlight filtered through the dusty space as she approached the stacked desks against the wall. Her nose wrinkled at the scent of mildewed wood and rusted metal in the air.

The wallpaper caught her eye—a faded pink, littered with strange animals. Nearby, a colorful, tattered sign was partiallyhung, reading “CLASS OF 2040,” and just beneath it was a dusty chalkboard displaying the alphabet.

Her eyes widened in realization.

This used to be a school from the Great Collapse.

Kneeling in front of the open cubbies built into the wall, her fingers brushed against frayed backpacks that were still packed away. She unzipped several bags, her pulse quickening as she searched for supplies. But they were all empty.

She slumped back, sighing in defeat as she picked up the final bag. But it wasn’t empty—a small, black notebook was buried inside.

Property of Ana Blackwood

Khalani frowned at the bold words on the cover. She glanced around, as if doing something she shouldn’t, but everyone was fast asleep, even Takeshi—the first time she’d seen him blessedly unconscious in a while.

---