by cryp2nz (aided and abetted by PanddingtonRed and LilOldHead)

Raindrops trickling through cracks in the roof splashed on the face of 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 cracks where the rain had made its way through.  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 bed was covered in what looked like pieces of the ceiling above that had partially collapsed.  

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? Dad?”

This wasn’t 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.  Clutching her head with elbows on the desk, the memory of what happened 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 as grills were blazing and the 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.

Before heading inside, Markie moved the boxes to her outside *bunker* for later.  Transporting them one-by-one across the yard and down into the bunker, 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.  

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

Markie had turned the shelter into her makeshift office and it was her Uncle who coined it, “The Candy Mine”.   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 wasn’t the same since her mom and sister had disappeared.  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, to no avail.  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 every show with pleas to find their mother.  Eventually, he lost hope, turned to the bottle to drown away his sorrows, and became almost impossible to live with.

As troubling as that was, her little sister Starry’s disappearance followed not long after.  Still grieving over the loss of their mother, young Starry had started therapy sessions.  It seemed to be going well.  At the suggestion of the doctor to get involved in other things, one morning she had found her old Fencing foil tucked away in its case on the top shelf of her closet.  As a child, Starry was 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 pain she felt inside.

Starry then joined a fencing club nearby and began practicing and competing once again. Her skills returned with a lightning-like frenzy.  Now much taller and smarter, Starry quickly returned to the top ranks in the club.  

Then the unthinkable happened.  Preparing for the next weekend’s statewide tournament, Starry never returned home after that night.  Neither the authorities, her father, nor her Uncle could find her.  The few leads to her disappearance all turned up empty and the family had tried desperately not to give up hope.

It was months later, when moving a few of Starry’s things to her office, that Markie had found what she thought could be a possible clue.  Under some clothing in the bottom drawer of Starry’s dresser, a small red flag inscribed with the initials **VV** seemed out of place.  Nothing ever became of it, but it stirred a faint memory that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Markie and Starry were 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 plastered pictures of Starry front and back of the truck in hopes someone would call with information, but they never did.  

Things got even worse at home with her father after that, Markie began sleeping most nights down in the office.  She had even moved her sister’s bed and an old Fencing trophy she’d won down there.  

So that night the delivery was a large one.  After sorting through it all, Markie had laid down on the bed to call her Uncle,

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

*“Yes, Hi Markie Sparky.  How are you?”*

“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.  Call you back when they stop, can’t hear a thing.”

As Markie was about to reply, a loud boom reverberated up above ground.  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 fire wafted through the air.  The sirens abruptly stopped as more explosions followed for what seemed like forever.  Then as the explosions came to a stop, a low rumble began emanating through the walls.  The sound grew louder and louder reaching a deafening humming pitch.

Panicked and still in her slippers trying to cover her ears, Markie grabbed her goggles and climbed up the ladder.  At the top, she reached for the handle to the metal hatch which was 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.  

It took her a split second to realize something was terribly wrong - her house was gone, flattened.  Through the smoke, 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 partly fused into the driveway.

Eyes circling the neighborhood, seeing no signs of life, her head began to spin.  She fainted, the metal 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.  Peeling back the wrapper, she took a sip of wine from an unbroken bottle she had hidden inside the desk drawer.  After a few nibbles, the hunger pains subsided and Markie began to lay out a plan.

Science Fiction

"In the midst of a turbulent life in the Aurora Gardens community, a teenage girl named Markie finds herself physically and emotionally battered. As she struggles to piece together her fragmented memories, she recalls the events that led to a terrifying incident, a family torn apart by tragedy, and the mysterious disappearances of her mother and sister. As Markie navigates through these challenging experiences, she finds solace in the family ice cream truck business, known affectionately as 'The Candy Mine.' In 'Twinkle, Twinkle Big Star,' join Markie on her search for answers in a dramatic, thrilling tale that will keep you on the edge of your seat!"

TWINKLE, TWINKLE BIG STAR: A GLIMPSE INTO THE AURORA GARDENS COMMUNITY

Nerds in this story