Samson Conrad has lived his life closed off since the death of his twin, until her.
17 year old Faith Ashlynn has lived her whole life locked away, will she ever find her place in this new world when everything is unknown? After her release, will she be able to trust anyone, possibly Samson Conrad?
Prologue - Faith POV
Two months, all of May and all of June. Truly that was the longest I had ever gone without seeing Dmitri in my whole life, although maybe that was to be expected because I had long figured out that the older I got, the less dependent on him I was and the more frequent his trips became. Though, now I could tell something was wrong, two months, with very limited supplies? Dmitri would have made an appearance a month ago.
I'd never had to ration food for three days over that of nearly nine.
Sighing, I walked to the window overlooking the forest around me, my mind drifting... the age-old question of what was beyond those trees?
Beyond the mountains?
Had things calmed?
Had the war finished?
I had been inside my whole life, never setting a foot outside in the poisonous air that killed many. I wondered how different things had become since many of the videos that donned the living room? I knew that progress had been made, the proof in the selection of videos that Dmitri brought along with supplies when he came.
Restless, I left the window, pacing in the kitchen, wondering if any danger had come to Dmitri? Of course it has, he would never have stayed away, he must be in peril, a small part of myself admitted.
Had someone witnessed him leaving our safe place and taken him from me?
It was already the third of July, my birthday, and in the previous sixteen years he had never missed a single one, always bringing me a new batch of things, books to read, records to play, movies to watch, new special treats. Yet today on my seventeenth, he had yet to make an entrance.
With no way to reach him, I pushed the negative thoughts from my mind, despite my greatest fear coming true, being truly alone in the world. Fading away in my safe place, taking my last breath alone and forgotten, an empty existence in this new dangerous world. My heart ached with sadness, I would never get to visit the many places I had read in my stories, never using the lessons Dmitri brought for me to study, to feel the sun on my face outside of my glass walls.
Although I guess I wouldn't get to feel the heat on my bare skin, no one could survive that way anymore, without a protective suit, a mask and tank with clean breathable air. All my life Dmitri had searched for one for me, never being quite so lucky, to my greatest disappointment. Other children, like myself had to wait until they had reached the right size, to put on the nearly one size fit all overall. But I had grown, his next visit, the one that should have been many days before, I would've been able to use his suit if just for a moment had he not found one for me.
They were rare, expensive. My parents had given me to him as a child; he had placed me inside of his own suit, bringing me to safety.
Putting on the Revolver LP vinyl, Taxman croons, the sound calming me easily, I listen to song after song as the sunsets and the usual darkness encroaches my home, I sigh, and I Want To Tell You brings a old memory of Dmitri rocking me to sleep, the same rocking chair still in my room, though he has long stopped rocking me to sleep. At first I noted the changes, him distancing himself and thought it was me, that I had done something wrong to push him away, but with age my, with my love for literature, for numbers for learning and devouring all the books he brought, I learned that it wasn't anything I could help.
Things change.
People grow. What is the least problematic solution? Adapt.
So I did.
Turning away from the window, lights dancing off the trees below reflecting in my peripheral, and I do a double take my heart thumping quickly as I lift a hand against the cooler glass. He's coming, my forehead against the earlier tension falls away, and my bottom lip trembles, my breath fogging the glass, and in a moment of panic I wipe away the condensation obscuring my view.
"He didn't forget me," I sigh, repeating those words that quell my panic in small momentary relief. The headlights shine through the darkness and in a last ditch moment, I run to the mirror to fix myself, my wild curly hair fans around my face, my face smaller, thinner from lack of food, under my bluish- green eyes dark circles from worry and lack of sleep startle me. I know Dmitri will notice and the last thing I want is for him to believe I am not taking care of myself while he is away.
My lips red from chewing on them, I look at my clothes, a plain black shirt and shorts I made on my sewing machine with fabrics Dmitri obtained for me. I run back over to the window overlooking the barely used dirt road to see a car not at all like what Dmitri drives. I frown. Alarmed I take one step away from my spot, but still that minor relief felt, quells a bit of anxiety.
The fright I pushed down, flares instantly as I take in more of the car headed up the driveway. Black body, the windows are darker, the car larger and even in my panic I feel my face turn up to a slow smile. It's much bigger; hope surges inside me that he's brought a new bigger car because I'll finally be able to join him out there.
I exhale shakily, and before the car has come to a stop I run to the steps, down, going to the door that has the lock that only Dmitri knows, I wait bouncing on the balls of my feet. And when through four thick glass windows a man that looks nothing like my Dmitri leaves the car - not wearing a suit - and my brain stumbles.
His brown eyes connect with mine and all I see is dread and something I cannot understand. He isn't wearing a suit, I note on the side. Where is Dmitri? He's not wearing a mask, and I see him inhale. The air out there is no longer dangerous – hazardous? Where is Dmitri? My mind bounces from one thought to another.
The man continues to the door, his eyes not leaving mine, he lifts his hand to the keypad outside - "Anyone that comes here with the code to the keypad Faith, you can trust them," words said years back creep into the chaos.
He isn't wearing a mask, or body suit, and he's breathing outside, the air is safe? He steps inside and the process I'm so familiar with startles him, the decontamination process. He shakes his head and the connection between us breaks and I stand waiting, tense until the final glass pushes to the side automatically.
"Where is Dmitri?" my voice shakes and again, his words from years before are all that keeps me in place.
The man blinks, "Fatima?" I shake my head. That is my name of course, Fatima Safiya Ashlynn, but,"Faith," I murmur, "Dmitri calls me Faith." The man nods, his eyes are pained. That's it! The part of my brain working to deconstruct his facial expressions notes and the next step is connecting his pained expression with its reason.
On my seventeenth birthday, I break.
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