Page 3 of Burning Love

As she began to sift through the handwritten supplies list to see what she could afford to give Laura to start work on Marco, memories of her career, of the friendships she’d forged, and of the losses she’d endured flooded her mind. These experiences were now a part of her, a mosaic of ups and downs that defined who she had become—a leader, sure, but a leader with an instinct to be a lone she-wolf.

Should I get out of here? Do this on my own? I’d make it. I know I would.

Just then, the sound of laughter interrupted her thought process. A group of children raced past the dirty window, their voices bright and almost happy-sounding. She felt a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She couldn’t leave them. They were so young, so innocent. Their futures actually meant something to her. She had the skills and experience to turn this place around. Abandoning them to their fate would be an act of cruelty, and she knew she couldn’t do it.

The children chased each other around a couple of empty crates, the sunlight catching the glint of their eyes. Alex felt a warmth spread through her abdomen. Despite everything that had happened to them, these kids had somehow found a way to have fun, to entertain themselves, to forget what was really happening out there beyond the compound gates. Maybe she could learn something from them? Sure, she wouldn’t be able to ignore the threat of the world outside—but she could certainly learn to deal with it a whole lot better.

Major Alex Bebbington had a mission. And her mission was clear enough: to keep the compound safe, protect those unable to defend themselves, and find a way forward through this crisis.

She took a deep breath. She had to remember that she was supposed to be trained for events like these. But no, that wasn’t true. Nobody could have foreseen an event like this one. She gathered some bandages and antiseptic lotion, hoping it would be enough, and shoved them into a cloth bag. She then stepped outside, feeling the cool air against her skin. The sensation helped calm her.

“Major, over here!” called Henry, waving her over to the makeshift supply tent. “We need to discuss the supplies.”

“Really? Right now? I need to get this stuff to Laura.”

“Major, I’m sorry, but we’ve got more problems than we thought,” Henry said as he made his way toward her with giant strides and a concerned look in his eyes. “We’re really running short on stuff. Not just fruit and veggies. I’m talking abouteverything. I’m wondering if someone’s been stealing it. It’s bad. I’m going to send out that scouting team today.”

“Agreed,” Alex said, her mind already churning with the possibilities of who might be stealing. Who had access to the food? Everyone, she guessed. It was just another example of how disorganized things were and how they needed to get their act together if they were going to survive. “Do you know who you’re taking? Have you got water, bags, maps, and flashlightsready to go? We can’t afford to wait.”

As they quickly discussed logistics, her resolve grew. She knew she could not falter. She was going to have to build this community from the ground up. What other option did she have?

Later that day, once Marco had been stabilized, Alex gathered as many residents as she could in the mess hall. It was time to address them, to remind them of their purpose and the strength they could possess if they chose to work together.

“Listen up, everyone!” she called, her voice cutting through the chatter. “It’s been a tough day. We have a new resident, Marco, who came to us this morning. He’s stable, warm, hydrated… and we expect him to make a full recovery. He got lucky. But it’s one more mouth to feed, right? We don’t all get together like this often, but with more and more people arriving, we’re going to need to have regular meetings. None of us has got much left. We’re spent. I get that. We’re all grieving. We’ve lost loved ones. It’s been nothing short of a nightmare. But we’re stronger than any threat out there, and I need you all to believe that.”

As she spoke, she watched their faces transform. Not everyone’s, but the majority. Their uncertainty faded as they nodded their heads in agreement.

“We’re all fighting for the same thing. So, I want us all here, in this hall, every Monday at seventeen hundred hours. Sorry, five o’clock, okay?”

She watched on as a crowd of worn-out faces nodded softly.

After the meeting, Alex decided to run around the compound’s training ground. Above her, glittering in shades of purple and pink, twilight made its way across the sky. She could hear the faint echoes of chatter coming from the hangars, a reminder of the lives that she and her colleagues were now responsible for.

But the quietness of the outside world sent a chill down her spine. Her thoughts turned to Miller and the scouting group. She hoped that they would find food, but more importantly, she prayed that they would make it back unscathed.

2

SOPHIA

Sophia crouched down, keeping herself low to the ground. What little daylight was left had managed to make its way through the filthy windows of the abandoned grocery store. She moved her hand up to her neck and felt her blood thudding through her veins. It was pumping so hard she could barely hear anything else. She strained her ears. She could hear something but wasn’t sure if it might be some auditory hallucination. Was it her own movements or something lurking… something creeping closer? She imagined the once-busy aisles around her and what they once must have been. Now, they were littered with shards of broken glass, discarded cans, and ripped-open cardboard boxes, remnants of the chaos that had swept through like a storm. Being from England, she didn’t recognize most of the brand names, but the pictures on the packaging looked delicious.

I’d honestly eat a can of cat food right now if only I could find some.

Sophia felt that every step was a gamble. The slightest noise felt like danger was about to envelop her. Knowing that she—that no one—was safe anymore was her new reality.

She was all alone. She had been alone for weeks. Alone and hungry. The pain in her stomach made her feel constantly nauseous as the echoes of her solitude seemingly reverberated around her, amplifying the deadly stillness of what must have once been a store buzzing with life and energy. Time was somehow suspended in this place, and as she crept forward, she found herself remembering her student days in London—bright, loud, full of people hurrying through the streets, taking the Tube, drinking in crowded bars before taking their pick from a myriad of on-trend eateries. It felt like a lifetime ago. Just a month or so prior to the virus hitting the States, she’d been one of them, rushing between dance practice and errands without a second thought, impatient at the checkout line, oblivious to how fragile her world really was.

I wonder if life’s still like that back home.

Back then, grocery shopping had been something of a chore, an item on her to-do list squeezed between rehearsals, shows, and sleep. She could almost laugh at its absurdity now. What she wouldn’t give to be able to walk into a supermarket without fear and grab something she fancied off a shelf without a second thought. To be part of a line again, which her fellow Brits did so well, standing behind strangers, maybe complaining about the cost-of-living crisis quietly, or the weather, completely unaware that everything she took for granted was about to be ripped away from her. And the goddamn diets she’d been on to keep in shape for ballet, refusing to eat anything that wasn’t organic, vegan, or both. But now—and the irony wasn’t lost on her—every morsel of food she found felt like treasure, like a prize won through absolute sheer luck.

Sophia’s minute frame certainly gave her an edge in this new game of survival she suddenly found herself playing. At five feet tall with a slight ballerina’s build, she could slip into narrow crevices, wedge herself behind counters, and disappear into tight spots that most would overlook. It was this ability that had kept her alive, though it certainly came at quite a price. Her body was covered in bruises she’d gotten from hurried escapes and nights spent in cramped hiding places. Every muscle in her body felt knotted with tension.

On top of her physical injuries, her nerves had grown into live wires. She never felt fully relaxed, and the worst thing about it was that she was scared the damage was irreversible.

A cappuccino and some Valium. Now, that would be a treat and a half.

Survival had left her fearful, lonely, and in constant pain, but a part of her was still glad to be alive. She wasn’t ready to give in. She needed to find a way back to England, even if it meant swimming across the Pond.

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