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I don’t remember how the sun feels

It’s an abstract concept forit once did When we first came down, my mom and dad said it was just for a feeeks, just a precaution The outbreaks in the city cauess, and the neas full of conflicting reports on whether it came from North Korea or Iran Other sites had other theories, but it was a coordinated strike, targeting cities all over the world

At the ti I was thirteen when ht a unit in the bunkers By that point, the city was bad enough thatInstead, she called a service that brought our food, and she didn’t let the courier coroceries in the foyer with the doorn objects in the boxes or suspicious contaminants present

By this point, I had stopped attending school I was nine when they declared a state of national e to contain the danated hazardous and quarantined accordingly My dad said the heavily armed soldiers in the streets patrolled to protect me, so I wasn’t to worry about theet back to nor

For us, normal ended on May 5 when the chemicals exploded in Times Square

The world never recovered

It’s funny, but when I look back oversmaller At five, I went on a plane with my parents and the whole universe lay open before me There was a white beach with sand soft as powder and an endless blue ocean; the air was balmy, and it was an island, covered inif this was heaven, and hed She said, “It’s not heaven, Robin, but it is paradise”

There were other wonders on that trip, but I was so young that they’ve begun to fade, colors running together like a painting left out in the rain Iwhat little I have left After we came home, I went to school, and my world was my teacher and twenty-four other students Then it narrowed further to my parents and the walls of the apartment with the occasional supervised trip outdoors

And when I was thirteen, they took away the sun I argued I sulked I tried to convince o live underground like rabbits, but they were afraid The streets teemed with people who had been infected with the Metanoia Virus, and public services couldn’t cope with them all My parents told me these unfortunates were unable to hold a job; their health and mental abilities had been perovern theot used to hearing autoines as I fell asleep

That , the bunker company sent an armed escort to take us fro and edly protect us I rode in an armored vehicle for the first ti, down soned some documents, and then we took possession of our new home

“It’s so small,” my mother said

My father put an aret used to it We’ll make do This is just a precaution, just for a little while, until they get things back in order”

Noonder if he knew, if he suspected

For the first year, we maintained contact with the outside world The air we breathed was regulated and filtered, our food was expensive and packaged “like the astronauts eat,” according to , but I had to force my mine down Sometimes I wondered what the point of survival was, if this e had to do; it see

Then silence fell Reports stopped co I was fourteen years old Mywhen the news sites went quiet Another day, she pressed randoet anyone to respond And that e found the local intercom

Oh, we had known there were others in units nearby We had seen the doors e took possession of our unit, but thethe herion The couarantee a 100 percent contaminant-free atmosphere, but that warranty existed only in our bunker, not in the public areas like the hallway Which should be safe, but there was no guarantee

The terminal beeped, and then a voice said, “Hello?”

He sounded young

My mother lost interest when she realized she hadn’t contacted the authorities for a status update Someone who sounded like that couldn’t know any more than we did So she stepped away and I took her place A few e on-screen I had spent , as I hadn’t been a tech person even before we came down here In the bunker, I sketched furiously, as if I could keep the world alive by capturing my memories of it

“Are you inside too?” the boy asked

I nodded and told him our unit number “You?”