by cryp2nz (aided and abetted by PanddingtonRed and LilOldHead)

The loud rattle of a metal hatch awakened the teenage girl lying on the concrete floor.  Markie slowly came to and rolled over onto all fours, her body aching and her head pounding.  Her hands hurt as she pushed herself up to her knees.  Dried blood and deep cuts lined her palms and extended to both wrists.  

Tiny beams of light shone through small fissures in the ceiling above illuminating wafts of smoke drifting throughout the room.  Small boxes lay open on the floor along with splintered glass and areas stained in red.  A bookshelf lay on its side, its shelves broken into pieces against the wall to her left.  A portion of the ceiling had collapsed on the bed in the far corner next to a small desk.

Markie carefully rose to her feet as she brushed pieces of glass clinging to her away.  

Now standing, her nose and throat burned from the stench in the air.  

*“What happened?”* she whispered aloud,  “Uncle Bob?  Starry?  Mom?  Dad?”

This was not one of the frequent dust storms, this was something else, something far, far worse, she thought to herself.

Unsteady on her feet, she shuffled over to the chair beside the desk.  Pursing her cracked lips together and clutching her waist, Markie wondered just how long she had been lying on the floor.  Gripping her head with elbows on the desk, a rush of memories started fading in.

It had been a typical Friday night in the Aurora Gardens community where she and her father lived.  As she climbed off the bus from school, the neighborhood driveway parties were already in full force, barbeque grills were blazing and thuds of cornhole bags echoed off the trailers.

Out front sweeping the sidewalk, the elderly woman next door yelled over as Markie walked up the driveway, 

*“Marrrrr-keeeee, business must be good, you sure got a **lot** of boxes today!”*  Markie rolled her eyes and motioned her hand to acknowledge the old lady.

Before heading inside, Markie moved the boxes to her office for later.  Transporting them one-by-one across the yard and down the ladder, she passed the living room window where she could see and hear her father with the phone in one hand yelling at someone with the bottle of wine in the other.  

Making a snack and carefully avoiding her father, she grabbed a few things and headed back outside.  The office was really an underground storm shelter her father had built to provide cover when bad dust storms would come to Rachel or so he said.  The storms used to be infrequent when she was younger, but had picked up the last few years.

Markie had turned the shelter into a makeshift office and her Uncle had coined it, *The Candy Workshop*.   It served two purposes: a sanctuary to escape her distressed father; and a dedicated area to store and organize materials for the ice cream truck - the business her Uncle ran.  

Her father had started drinking again and life at home hadn’t been the same ever since her mom and sister’s disappearances.  Markie’s mother had vanished first.  Out delivering packages around town and to the military base nearby, she had never returned home from work one night.  Her father, Uncle, and the authorities had spent months trying to locate her, with no trace ever found, not even of the work van.  

The government had no record of her signing in at the base that night, although her father swore up and down she was there.  His local radio show started and ended each show with pleas to find his wife.  Eventually he lost hope, turned back to the bottle to drown away his sorrows, and became almost impossible to live with.

Markie’s little sister Starry took it even harder.  The once happy little girl rarely spoke and had started skipping school.  Her doctor suggested she find an activity to help with the healing.  Nothing worked, until one morning while rummaging through her closet, she found her old fencing foil tucked away in its case on the top shelf.  As a child, Starry had been a sensation around the fencing circuit, but had abruptly quit a couple years later.  Rekindling her old love for the sport, it provided a release for her aggression and the internal anguish she felt inside.

Starry rejoined the fencing club in town and began practicing and competing once again.  She began opening up and that infectious smile like her sister’s was back.  Practicing outside with her sister using old broomsticks and trash can lids, her skills returned with a lightning-like frenzy.  Now much taller and smarter, Starry quickly returned to the top ranks in the club.   

At practice the night before the statewide tournament, the unthinkable happened.  Starry never returned.  It was the second mysterious disappearance in Rachel in six months.  Authorities searched for weeks and the few leads to her disappearance had all turned up empty.   Still suffering, Markie and the family were devastated.  

Months later, when moving a few of Starry’s things to her office, Markie had found something out of place.  Under some books in the bottom drawer of Starry’s dresser, she noticed a small red flag, one that you might wave at a parade.  Shaped like a fencing foil, the initials **VV** were inscribed on the flag itself.  It looked strangely familiar.

Markie and Starry had been working together part-time helping their Uncle Bob with his ice cream truck business.  The business carried on, as did the search for Starry.  Uncle Bob placed pictures of Starry on front and back of the truck in hopes someone would call with information, but a phone call never came.

Things got even worse at home with her father after Starry’s disappearance.  Markie began sleeping most nights out in the office.  She had even moved her sister’s bed and an old fencing trophy she’d won down there, along with the little flag that she would stare at from time to time.

When the delivery came that fateful day, there were more boxes than usual.  Finished sorting through it all and jotting down some notes, Markie had laid down on the bed to call her Uncle,

*“Uncle Bob,”* Markie uttered as the phone answered on the other end.

“Great!  Those five new items arrived today.  I wanted to let you know that three of them look and taste incredible and I will bring them tomorrow”*, she exclaimed.

*“I haven’t tried the **special** one yet, maybe before I go to sleep later”*, she continued.

*“No rush on that one Markie.  Need to be …..,” as the blaring sound of air raid sirens interrupted him.

“Geez, these tests are getting really annoying lately.” as the sirens grew louder.  “Call you back when they stop, can’t hear a thing.”

As Markie was about to reply, a loud boom reverberated up above.  Inside, the room began to shake and the lights flickered as the phone went dead.

“Uncle Bob?  Uncle Bob?  UNCLE BOB?   UNCLE ……….,” Markie screamed into the phone.

“Markie?  Markie?  MARKIE…..,” Uncle Bob screamed back.

Markie dropped the phone to brace herself as the room began shaking violently.  The lights went out and the smell of smoke seeped in through the hatch above.  Soon after, the sirens stopped followed by more explosions for several minutes.  As the thunderous booms stopped, a low rumble began emanating through the walls.  The sound grew louder and louder reaching a deafening humming pitch.

Putting on her slippers and trying to cover her ears, Markie grabbed her goggles and climbed up the ladder.  She slid open the round metal hatch, now slightly warm to the touch.  Cracking it open, she peered out across the yard.  The entire skyline was on fire as thick, billowing smoke permeated the air in every direction.  The radio tower behind her home had fallen and was smoldering off in the distance.  

A split second later, she realized something was terribly wrong - her house was gone, flattened.  Through the smoke and drizzling rain, she could see part of the refrigerator and remnants of the two waste tanks that sat just beneath the house.  Off to the right appeared to be her father’s truck which had melted partly into the driveway.

Eyes circling the neighborhood, seeing no signs of life, her head began to spin.  She fainted, the hatch door crashing shut as Markie collapsed down the ladder to the floor.  The stench of burnt flesh was the last thing she had remembered.

Finished recalling what happened, Markie raised her head off the desk.   Feeling light-headed, a million thoughts entered her mind, as her stomach grumbled violently.  She reached into one of the boxes on the floor and grasped the first thing that brushed her hand.  Markie peeled back the wrapper and reached for something hidden inside the desk drawer.  Taking a few nibbles and swigs of wine, Markie’s hunger pains slowly subsided and she wondered what to do next.

Science Fiction

"Awakening in a shattered room filled with smoke and debris, Markie searches for her family and begins to recount her challenging past. Memories swirl as she remembers her mother's disappearance, her father's alcoholism, and her sister Starry's grief. In the midst of a mysterious and dangerous situation, Markie must find answers and uncover the truth. Join Markie on her journey as she navigates past traumas and uncovers secrets in the Aurora Gardens community, all while grappling with a chaotic world none of them could have ever imagined."

PROLOGUE: TWINKLE, TWINKLE, BIG STAR

Nerds in this story