Apophis (33 page)

“Did you know that in the 19th century, people equated food intake with sexual appetite?” Nora said.  “If you wolfed down your food in public, people assumed you were a nymphomaniac.”

I curled my lip at her. “You're making that up.”

She delicately stabbed her leafy salad. “I take history very seriously.”

I hesitated with my fork hovering over my plate. “You don’t think I’m a nympho, do you?”

Nora grabbed my knee under the table. “Let’s be serious, Sammy,” she said leaning in, “I'm the one jumping you, not the other way around.”

I cleared my throat and proceeded to push my mashed potatoes across my plate.  Could I be brave and use this opportunity to talk about feelings and what exactly we were to each other?  It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying whatever we were doing, but I liked labels. I liked boundaries and parameters. I knew how to act when there were rules in place.

My contemplating was interrupted when I heard a familiar, jovial voice. “Hey! It’s the New Girl.”

I looked up from my half-eaten meal to see my work crew, Jazmin, Charlie, and Greg.  Greg was waving wildly at me. I momentarily felt bad that they hadn’t invited me along if they were planning on going out together after work, but I’d only been on the job for one day. It would take longer than that to break into their clique.

“Friends of yours?” Nora asked.

“Play nice,” I said under my breath. “I work with them.”

Nora’s hand left my knee. I instantly hated my new co-workers.

“Hey guys,” I waved them over.

“Who’s this?” Charlie asked, nodding at Nora. “Scoot over, New Girl.”

“This is my, uh…my...” There was that word again. “This is Nora.” I made room in the booth for the newcomers. “Nora, this is Jazmin, Charlie, and Greg.”

“Nice to meet you.”
 She said the words, but nothing in her tone or her facial expression supported the validity of her statement. It amazed me that there were moments when this girl could pour on the charm, light up a room with her presence, and make you feel like you were the only good thing in this world. And other times, like right now, when her disapproving stare rivaled the icy weather outside.

“Nice to meet
you
,” Charlie said, leaning closer to Nora and attempting to ooze charm.

“And I’m even
nicer
to meet,” Greg contributed.

Jazmin rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I hang out with these two.  It’s like a zoo sometimes with all the peacock’ing going on.”

Nora’s mouth twisted into a peculiar smile and I felt her gaze steady on me.  “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not into feathers.”

+++++

“Would it
kill
you to be nice to people?” I threw my keycard on the kitchen table.  After an awkward ending to our interrupted dinner, we’d come straight back to the apartment rather than do any additional exploring.

“I’m nice to you,” Nora shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Have you always been this anti-social?” She had been rude to Ryan in Hot Springs and now she was being rude to my new co-workers, too.

Nora looked frustrated as she yanked off her boots. “I’m not going to pretend to be interested in other people or look for things we have in common when I have no intention of making friends.”

“Why not?” I challenged.

“Because I’m not staying.”

“What?”

“I can’t live down here. Why should we be the privileged ones while everyone else suffers above ground?”

I didn’t have an answer for her.  There was no justifiable reason why we should be among those safe in the belly of the earth.  I had no great talent, no specialized skill or training.  At least Nora had a degree in sustainability.  She could make biodiesel out of bacon grease or something like that.

“Are you sure this isn’t because Lisa gave you a waitressing job?” I challenged. Part of me wondered if any place would ever be good enough for her.  She’d found flaws with Hot Springs even before we found out they’d killed my mother, and now she was picking apart the Garden of Eden.
 The only time she hadn’t complained about a place was our little cottage in the Montana woods.

“No. This has nothing to do with her. We’re only here because my dad happened to own the right company and won a government contract.”

“I know, but...” I honestly had no response. Any reason justifying why we should be saved over anyone else sounded weak and self-serving.  I wasn’t any better than anyone else.  I was just the winner of an unlikely lottery of sorts.

“Come with me.”

“But my dad –.”

“Isn’t here,” she cut me off.

“Maybe it’s just taking him longer to get here.”

She shook her head. “Even if he somehow found the store entrance to West Genesis, what are the chances that they’d even let him in?” 

“I’ll ask Lisa if she’ll leave a note that they should let him in,” I suggested. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” she stated dully, clearly not listening to me anymore.  “I’m going to bed.”

I wasn’t sleepy, but I didn’t want her to go to bed angry and alone.  Before I could make up my mind though, she’d already slipped into the bedroom we’d been sharing.  The door closed behind her silently.  I sighed, looking at the closed door that divided us.  I knew I should go in there and talk to her, but I didn’t know how to make people feel better – I was completely inept at consoling people.  Melancholy just made me nervous and uncomfortable.

I sat down on the stiff couch feeling as rigid as the foam cushions.

+++++

After hours of watching re-runs, I slid into bed as unobtrusively as I could. Her body heat beside me was familiar and comforting. I inched my legs closer.

“Your feet are freezing,” I heard her grumble.

I quickly jerked my feet back to their original spot.

She rolled over in bed so she was facing me.  I could just make out the outline of her face to know that she was looking at me.  My eyes weren’t yet adjusted to the dark and there was no moonlight creeping through a window. There was only a small nightlight that struggled to throw off any light.

“I’m sorry I was rude to your new friends.” She sounded contrite.

“I don’t really care about them,” I admitted. “Those guys are kind of meatheads.” I could almost feel her smile. “But it would probably be a good idea to make some friends down here. We can’t just keep to ourselves.”

“Why not?” She didn’t sound defiant, just truly curious. “We were fine with just the two of us before.”

“Yeah, but that was only like a week,” I pointed out. “This is the rest of our lives.”

“So you really believe the Frost isn’t going to end?” She couldn’t mask how small and tight her voice had become.  I knew she was still holding out hope that this freeze wasn’t permanent.

I pushed out a deep sigh. “Not in our lifetime.”

She was quiet then, thinking.

“Will you try to make friends?” I asked again. “I certainly like having you all to myself, but I think it would be good for you.”

“I’ll try harder.”

I went to sleep believing that things would only get better from now on.

When my alarm went off the next morning, the room was dark and I was snuggled warm in bed. It was the worst combination and it reminded me of winter days in Williston when my mother couldn’t drag my teenage body out of bed to get to school on time.  I hit the alarm off instead of the taunting Snooze button.  It was my second day of work; I couldn’t be late and make a bad impression.  I didn’t know what happened if you got fired down here – if they reassigned you or if you simply got kicked out of the compound.  Either way, I didn’t want to find out.

I rolled over in bed, taking half of the covers with me. My body had gotten too accustomed to sleeping bags I tended to get sheets and comforters wrapped around me like a cocoon.  I pried my arm free from the tight blanket cocoon I’d unintentionally constructed and reached out for Nora.  Eyes still closed, I felt for her in the dark. Nothing.
 The sheets felt warm though, so I wasn’t concerned. She was probably in the bathroom or making breakfast.  I hoped there’d be coffee.

I stretched, yawned, and scratched at my head.  My hair was wild from sleep. I had baby fine blonde hair and any sort of tussle in the night knotted and crimped my stubborn hair until I ran a brush through it or took a shower. One of the benefits of wearing a knit cap nearly 24/7 was never having to fix your hair. But in exchange for the hot shower I would enjoy that morning, I suppose I could deal with the hassle.

The living room was dark when I wandered out of the bedroom, but I managed to find the light control panel.

“Nora?” I called out.
 I waited for her voice, but heard nothing.

I looked in the bathroom, in the extra bedroom, but there was nothing, no sign of her or even a note letting me know that she’d gone out.
 I wasn’t her keeper; I didn’t have the right to demand to know where she was at all times, but that didn’t mean her absence didn’t annoy me.  She could have at least left a note.

I got ready for the morning, still feeling annoyed. I kept waiting for her to burst into the apartment and exclaim how late she was going to be for work and how the line at the coffee shop had been so long or that she’d gotten lost on the way back. I waited as long as I could for her to show up, but I didn’t want to be late on only my second day at work. When she still hadn’t returned, I wrote her a note (even though she hadn’t found it important enough to leave one for me), telling her I’d gone to work and that I’d see her at the end of the day.

Eight hours later, she was still missing.  A feeling of dread settled in my gut when I unlocked the door to our apartment. That uneasiness heightened and intensified when I entered the living room and neither saw nor heard Nora.

“Nora? Are you here?”

I started to panic when I realized that I was once again alone in the apartment. I didn’t know who to alert or even how to alert them or if her continued absence from the apartment was even worth fretting over.

I picked up the landline and stared at the phone as the dial tone hummed in my ear.
 I hung the phone back up.  I jotted off another note for Nora telling her that I was looking for her and that she should stay in the apartment until I got back.  I grabbed my keycard and was out the door again.  My stomach kept doing somersaults as I rode the subway train to the only person I knew that might be able to help me. 

The library was located just a few stops from our apartment, jammed between the residential and the entertainment sectors.
 West Genesis itself was generally quiet, most people kept to themselves in public spaces on their way to or from work, and the library, predictably, was no different.  I had to use my keycard to get inside and walked in to the quiet, constant clicking of people on computers.

That the internet would still exist even in West Genesis shouldn’t have surprised me.
 What did surprise me, however, was that there didn’t appear to be any books in the library.  Instead, people sat in overstuffed easy chairs reading from a variety of electronic readers and tablets.

Cynthia was behind a long half wall that resembled a bartop. A large sign that said Circulation Desk hung above her.  Her attention was on a computer monitor whose screen was hidden from the public.
 I strode up to the front desk.

“Cynthia?”

Her bespectacled head snapped up. There was a moment of confusion on her features as she tried to place my face, I’m sure, but then a broad smile split her face. “Samantha West!” she beamed. “How’s life in West Genesis been treating you? Do you like your new job? Are you making new friends? How’s that sister of yours?”

“That’s actually why I found you,” I said, biting my lower lip. Now wasn’t the time to inform her that Nora and I weren’t related. “I can’t find her.”

Cynthia’s nose scrunched up. “Oh dear.”

“She was gone when I woke up this morning,” I continued, feeling more and more uneasy as I went on. “I thought maybe she’d just woken up earlier than me and had gone to get coffee or breakfast or something, but she was still missing when I came home from work.”

Cynthia picked up the receiver of a cordless phone. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

“Who are you calling?”

“Human Resources. They’ll be able to tell me if she showed up for work today or not.”

She punched a few numbers into the phone and I waited impatiently for an answer.
 Nora had been talking about leaving West Genesis, but I hadn’t really taken the threat seriously.  I knew she was unhappy with her job placement, but that wasn’t a reason to run away from stability and survival, was it?

“Lisa? Hi. This is Cynthia. Yes, I’m well, thank you. I’m calling because Samantha West can’t find her sister. I’m wondering if you know if she showed up for work today.”

My throat tightened as I waited for the response.  Cynthia hummed a few times, but made no indication if the news was good or bad. Finally she said goodbye and hung up the phone.