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It's blood.

Nikola has seen it enough times to know at a glance, even if it's old and dried up.

Her hand tightens over Soren's, as she looks around them, eyes searching for someone watching them.  Nikola sees nothing, but it means that she can't depend on her eyes for survival. 

There is a blood spatter on the concrete, which looks like the gun was fired in the direction in front of her.  Upon closer inspection, there are multiple blood splatters, as if there were many people shooting from different directions.  And that's not the end of it; blood had pooled into a puddle and most disgustingly, there's an imprint of a body laying in it.  It appears to be the size of an adult male and the blood is still drying.

But where is the body?

"You're hurting me,"  There's not a change in Soren's voice, but Nikola still gasps and lets go of his hand.  His fingers have a red imprint of her hand over them, but he pulls the sleeve over them with a steely gaze.

"I'm sorry," 

"It's okay,"  Soren grabs her hand and looks down at the blood.  "At least, we're not this person."

It makes her antsy to study this, especially when Soren is nearby, but Nikola feels as if there's no choice.  She must know what happened here. 

"Please look away.  Your mother wouldn't have wanted you to see this."

"My mom is dead,"  Soren's voice turns icy, but he still averts his gaze, gripping her hand.  "I don't think it really matters what she had wanted anymore."

"Of course, it matters,"  Nikola struggles to say something that is meaningful, but wouldn't approach the topic they had avoided, "every action she had made was for you.  If they don't mean anything, I wouldn't be here to help you."

Soren's face flashes to annoyance.  He starts to say something, but then he sniffs angrily, wiping his nose.  "Th-then!"  He struggles to speak without his voice cracking, but as if giving up after a few choked seconds, there's a bitter, "I guess..."

It is a meaningless answer and he uses it like a weapon to end conversations.  Nikola doesn't think it's safe for him to keep everything in, but she doesn't have the words to encourage him to speak freely.  How can she when she can't talk about her same traumas?  Like Soren, she has no one else, except for him.

Even though it has been a few months since Nikola has found him, she knows nothing about his mother.  Soren keeps her wallet with him and he keeps it beside his head when he goes to sleep.  It's a worn out thing, but it's the only thing that he has left.

Nikola understands.  She wishes that she had her family's belongings.  Maybe it would ease the pain.  But she knows little about this boy she takes care of and it worries her.

Soren knows that Nikola was a soldier when the flares came.  She was the one who herded the civilians into the bunkers and tried to keep the panicked citizens' panicked minds at peace.  Following the orders of her higher-ups, Nikola stayed at her station, watching over the shelter and leaving to search for more survivors.  Sometimes she had to step in to break up a fight, but she remembers how the arguments escalated, until there was nearly a riot in the bunker.

The civilians were tired of hiding underground and tired of being protected by the soldiers.  Someone had spread rumors about how the government were lying to them about the wasteland outside.  One story was that the government had caused the end of the world and were keeping everything under wraps.  It wasn't long before everyone turned against them and Nikola struggled to keep everyone in line.

She wished that she had something to please them with, but the truth was, the soldiers were at a loss just like everyone else was.  All contact had been cut a few months before and the supplies were dwindling down, even though the survivor count was lower than expected.  There was no way to give bigger rations when no one truly knew how long they were staying in here.

Like everyone else, Kit was antsy, casting his dark glower to everyone who dared approached him.  He never felt safe, even when he was alone with her.  In a way, it seemed that he knew everything without Nikola telling him, his dark eyes poring into every secret that she had.  And because of that, Kit was like a caged animal in the bunker, watching the perimeter and sneaking into the control room whenever he could.

Nikola never ratted him out because of her loyalty to him, but at the end, she had a deep feeling that it was meaningless.  The soldiers didn't know anything.  The maps were useless because none of them could travel far enough to make the trip, much less had enough gasoline to go there and back.  They were cut off from everyone else and any answers would be found in the blistering hellhole outside, if it didn't kill them first.  The only problem was that they couldn't tell the civilians without fearing the worst.

It was costing Kit every second to be here, unable to do anything back to the world that punished him.  Nikola was his last reason to be alive and every day, she feared that she would find his body hanging from the ceiling because despite all her hard efforts, it all went to waste. 

In the months that they were in the bunker, he would always curse the world, wishing anything for one last smoke.  The action itself was suicidal in air that was still heavy with ash.

Nikola knew that Kit had known that there was no going back, but even to this day, she finds the thought uncomfortable to voice.  After living with him for fifteen years, she knew this bitter old man and it hurt her to watch him keep going without anything to ground him.

But it doesn't matter anymore since he isn't here.  Nikola has to be strong and be Soren's grounding factor. It's impossible to face reality when everything was beyond their wildest nightmares.

A gunshot blasts the ground a few feet away from Soren, who stumbles away from it, falling into Nikola. Catching him, all of the hairs on Nikola's skin stand up, almost like an electrical storm was brewing.

There was someone out there.

A loud whooping call pierces the air behind them, accompanied by a thunderous screech of tires. They're only specks in the distance, but even in the hazy light, Nikola can see military jeeps coming out of the cloud. Her heart doesn't stop pounding, as the tires get louder.

Five jeeps. Full of people hanging out of the windows. All of them had a rifle in their hands.

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