Valley After 2.1-2.2: New Dawn

Navalea is a polyamorous and pansexual woman who gains a penis one day. Her story is a sexy slow burn of friends discovering themselves, and each other, while surviving the fall and rebirth of civilization.

Hearts ❤︎ indicate erotic chapters. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~

Part 2 - Refuge

Chapter 2.1: Beginning of the End

It was a warm Saturday morning in August when my friends and I started the third Borderlands game. We'd decided to introduce Lily to the series, and played through the first few games over the past few weeks. She hadn't really played PC games before, but thankfully was still having a good time! Kira and I were at home, while Lily and Julien joined us over voice chat.

"Behind you, Nav!" Julien exclaimed. I spun around, firing shots into the group rushing us, while ducking into cover. I hastily reloaded, then peeked around the corner. A faint barking sound greeted me. That was unusual? I glanced over to my open window. New neighbors? I hadn't heard a dog before...

"I'm surprised the third one gets a lot of hate," Lily's voice came over the headset. "I'm enjoying the gameplay!"

"Yeah, though 2 had a better story," I added. "Handsome Jack was an incredible villain." The barking intensified from outside the window.

"No arguments there," Kira responded as we finished off this group of bandits.

"Thanks for suggesting we try this series!" Lily said. "It's cool to finally experience it."

"Privileges of being an adult," Julien responded and we started looting the camp. Then the barking turned into a long, plaintive howl. I sighed. I hated hearing animals in distress. Kira said with concern in her voice, "I hope that pupper's okay..."

I started to say, "If it keeps up, we could check-" BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP

I jumped, then stared at my phone.

BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP

BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP

BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP

Alerts blared from my friends' phones. An emergency siren gradually began an upward wail, louder and louder outside, drowning out the dog's howling. Lily's voice shook, "What... what should... "

"Get outside!" I exclaimed while frantically grabbing my phone off the desk and dismissing the alert. "If we can't pick you up, follow our evacuation plan. Follow the plan! We'll meet you!" I waited for confirmation from my friends before throwing off my headset. I glanced around. Should I shut down my computer? No. No time!

JUST GET OUT!!!

The oncoming terror made my heart race and hands tremble. Everything around us seemed normal... calm... while our phones and the emergency siren screamed urgent warnings that hundreds of miles away, along a thousand miles of fault lines buried under the Pacific, death rolled towards us from deep within the earth. Nine point six?! Even as a kid from California I could barely conceive of that magnitude, but my imagination conjured up horrifying images anyway. I felt my panic rise knowing the first shockwave was getting closer, and closer, and would hit us any minute now. I threw on pants and raced to the kitchen, heart thudding in my chest. Kira was already in the hallway scrambling to get shoes on. I got my keys, wallet... grabbed shoes. Put them on?

Any minute now...

No time! Get the go bag. Open the door... lock it? Kira rushed through with her bag. My keys jingled, hands shaking with fear. I couldn't steady myself enough to lock the door. I just left it.

Any minute now...

Kira and I dashed from our apartment and stumbled onto the cold pavement in the middle of the parking lot. My shaking hands desperately pulled my shoes on. Kira looked at me with wide, terrified eyes. I reached out to hold her hand when the ground betrayed us. It was just a little bump at first... then everything wrenched back, nearly tipping me over. Violently slamming us back and forth until we steadied ourselves, hugging each other against the heaving Earth.

I fearfully held my best friend close as we watched the world crumble before terrified eyes. A carport swayed and collapsed in a loud crash of crumpling metal. The pavement cracked and rippled. Neighbors struggled to stumble and crawl out of their own apartments, some shocked into silence while others cried out in voices I couldn't hear over the roar of the planet. Windows shattered. The apartment building shifted as cracks snaked up through the outer walls, then half the building crumpled, then collapsed. I couldn't hear the screams. Seconds dragged into subjective eons of adrenaline-fueled clarity before the earth... gradually... slowly...

... became stable again.

Everything went eerily quiet, aside from the angry blare of car alarms.

Even the siren had stopped. It felt like an eternity, and I later learned the first of many waves lasted a catastrophic eight minutes. I looked around at the neighbors surrounding us. Families, pets, people from all walks of life. A few children cried in their parents arms, while everyone else sat in stunned silence.

Then a man rushed out from one of the apartments, looked around and screamed, waving to everyone. I didn't recognize the words. Kira exclaimed, "He's asking for help!"

We didn't even think -- our paramedic and army training wouldn't allow it. We rushed into the apartment. Dust drifted from ominous cracks in the ceiling. Fallen furniture blocked much of the living space. Kira hastily translated a language she probably learned in the service. "Takreem's mother Qasida is handicapped. He couldn't get her out!" We cleared enough debris to get through. I heard a voice calling out, and Takreem responded. We found the elderly woman on the floor of a small bedroom.

She reached out to me pleadingly. I wouldn't normally risk moving someone without a gurney, but the rest of the building might collapse at any moment. I briefly explained a two-handed seat carry to Kira, who translated for Takreem. They were stronger than me, so they lifted his mother together. She wrapped weak arms around her son's shoulders. I helped keep Qasida steady as we cautiously carried her past the debris to her wheelchair at the entrance to the apartment. I unfolded the chair, then Takreem and Kira set her down. After wheeling his mother out to safety, Takreem looked at us with tears in his eyes, and said something that transcended language barriers.

Our worries turned next to Julien and Lily. We tried our phones. Nothing. After a moment we gathered ourselves. "They'll be okay," Kira reassured me. "Modern condos. Built after the earthquake risks were recognized." My shoulders sagged, but I nodded in agreement.

Around us, people started clambering forward over the rubble where half the building had collapsed, struggling to pull off pieces of concrete. Kira and I shared a glance. Our mutual decision sunk in without having to say a word.

Our friends needed us, but our community needed us more. We spent the next half hour rescuing people trapped in the rubble. Everyone hurried. An aftershock might hit at any moment, and we'd have no warning the second time. These two-story apartment buildings were constructed half a century ago on river-adjacent ground that liquified during the earthquake. Those nearest the river suffered the most damage, with one partial and another full collapse, and many people trapped inside. Over time and with hundreds of helping hands, our community got everyone out, thankfully alive.

Then we returned to our place, where I ruefully looked over my car smashed by the collapsed carport. One of the beams had gone clear through the windshield. "Well, we only could drive one out of her anyway," I mused and nodded towards Kira's jeep. The big vehicle was parked in one of the larger spaces in the open parking lot.

"Yeah, I never knew I'd be thankful to have such a huge hunk of junk," she sighed. "Glad my uncle sent it; we might actually need the offroad capabilities now."

We packed her Jeep with the go bags and a few extra supplies hastily scavenged from inside our apartment. Julien lived closest, so we headed his way first. We couldn't get any information about how bad it was. Power was out, no phone service, and even the truck radio was silent. But based on what we saw...

"Pull over!" I exclaimed at one point as we approached a car accident. Kira hesitated and looked at me with concern, before pulling up behind the cars.

I got out of the jeep and approached the scene. An SUV had rear-ended a small car, completely crumpling in the trunk. A handful of people lingered on the side of the road. Most of them looked okay, but I rushed to the side of one man, whose neck and chin were bright red. He looked up at me in confusion. "I'm a paramedic, can I check your injury?" I explained briefly.

He nodded wearily. "Thank you. We tried calling 911, but the phones aren't working."

"They probably won't for a while," I said while gently looking him over. "Is this where the airbag hit?"

"Yeah," he answered and winced as he turned his head.

"You should be okay." I slung my backpack off my shoulders and pulled out a pen. "I'd get checked out anyway for possible neck trauma. There's a hospital on 182nd Street. I doubt you can get in contact with the police or EMT services. Do you think you can drive?"

"I think so." He glanced at his car. Despite the crumpled trunk, it looked operable.

I didn't have anything to write on, so after asking, I wrote directions on the man's hand. "Hopefully this hospital's still in good shape. I wouldn't recommend trying the closer one; it probably had damage in the quake. Explain to intake you were in a collision and might have a neck injury." He nodded and thanked me. I reluctantly said farewell and returned to Kira's side. She was standing by the jeep.

We climbed back in the vehicle and got on the road. Kira was silent for a while, then said gently, "You have a good heart, Navalea." I looked out of the vehicle in silence, with the implication going unsaid. We passed by another car accident, then another. I didn't ask to stop again. Kira gave me an empathetic look before focusing back on the road. I envied my friend's capability to stay focused on our goal, despite knowing that detachment came from experiencing far worse tragedies. I silently wondered if the calamity around us resembled a warzone? I didn't ask.

After navigating around several dead-end roads with fallen trees and power lines, we finally arrived at Julien's place. He lived in a duplex and was already waiting on the front porch for us. Kira rushed out of the car as he unsteadily got to his feet. She pulled her boyfriend into a giant, relieved hug. He stood there with his arms at his side.

"I was SO worried for you!" Kira exclaimed and breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah. I'm... I'm okay. I think?" Julien said, blinking as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Are you hurt?" Kira asked, worried, looking him over. I walked up the sidewalk and gave Julien a look-over too. He seemed in shock, but I didn't see any physical injuries.

"Yeah." He nodded mechanically. "I didn't..." He finally put his arms around Kira, pressed his face into her shoulder and started sobbing quietly.

"It's okay," she whispered quietly, stroking the back of his head while he cried in her arms. "You're safe. I'm here. It's okay." I joined them in a group hug, holding the shaken, trembling Julien tenderly between us. Eventually the tears faded. Kira wiped his tears away, then when he was ready, we climbed into the Jeep. I moved to the back seat to let them be closer to one another.

I felt a knot in my stomach when we spotted a traffic jam ahead. There was a river between us and Lily. Many people were standing outside their vehicles and trying to use their phones. We tried another route. Another collapsed bridge. I felt the pit of fear sinking deep inside, threatening to consume me. "Let's try 96th Ave," I said while checking a different part of the map in my hands. Kira glanced over her shoulder at me, not starting the jeep yet. I looked up, puzzled. "What's up?"

Kira unbuckled and turned around to face me. "Lily was in a modern home," she said gently. "She would have been okay. She has a car, and knows the plan."

"I know, and we have to meet her!" I sighed and looked down at the map. "That's the plan now!"

"How long has it been?"

"Doesn't matter." I shook my head stubbornly.

"Nav." She reached out and placed a hand on mine. "You planned things out. You were really smart about everything, and we all agreed to it. It's been four hours. How long did we say we'd-"

"Let's just try 96th?" I interrupted. "Please?" I finally looked up at my best friend, tears welling up in my eyes.

Kira glanced at the map. The next bridge wasn't far away. "Okay," she said softly, then turned back around and buckled herself in, getting us back on the road.

By the time we reached the next traffic jam, the tears were flowing freely down my cheeks, causing my makeup to run as I tried to dab the drops away. Kira got out of the car, walked around me and silently pulled me into a hug. Julien looked at me from the front seat with an empathetic expression.

"Lily will meet us," Kira said quietly as she held me, stroking my back as I cried. "She left hours ago... she just has to go the long way around."

"I KNOW!" I screamed and threw the map aside, pulled out of Kira's arms and storming out into the parking lot. Kira let me go. I got ten feet away before stopping and looking around at the ruins of a strip mall. I gazed up at seagulls drifting lazily through the sky. They probably fled the coast. How big was the tsunami?

I found Kira beside me, standing there quietly, watching the seagulls together. "I feel I'm going to throw up, not knowing if she's hurt, not knowing where she is... how to help her...."

"Yeah," Kira said tenderly.

"I feel so FUCKING helpless!" I raged at the sky. I desperately wanted to punch something or someone, but there was no one to blame, no one to direct my anger towards.

"Me too," Kira said and reached out, offering her hand. I accepted it, squeezing tightly.

"I know. I know we have to go," I sighed, feeling defeated. "We'd have no way of finding her on the road. I just... we had to try." Kira nodded gently. I took a deep breath, then let it out again. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"It's okay," she said and offered me a faint smile.

"No, it's not," I shook my head. "That wasn't fair. You're just trying to make sure we get to safety. I get that. Thank you." I wrapped my arms around her and we hugged briefly, before I took another breath to clear my thoughts, and wiped away the last of my tears. We returned to the jeep, where Julien gave me a big hug too.

Kira got back in the driver's seat, and I picked up the map in back. Then she turned us around and we got back on the road. We drifted, dreamlike, through a surreal landscape of twisted buildings and buckled roads, navigating around landslides and fallen trees. We left our homes behind. Our friends, companions, jobs. Hopefully not for long, but...

Years ago, I shared a documentary with Kira. People once believed our part of the Ring of Fire was quieter than rest. But in the 1990s, scientists discovered the offshore fault lines built up as much tension as California or Japan, but released it in rare catastrophic megaquakes every thousand years or so. The Cascadia region had only experienced small quakes in modern times. The buildings and infrastructure simply weren't built to handle the magnitude of the disaster. As bad as things looked, it was about to get much, much worse, when the power didn't come back on.

After learning these terrifying facts we prepared as best we could. We packed go-bags and planned evacuation routes. I warned everyone I knew, and coordinated specific plans with my closest friends. My other acquaintances were too spread out around the city to help. I just hoped they took the warning seriously.

Kira got us on a list she knew about from her private security job. Some tech billionaire bought a ski resort and poured money into it as a kind of outlandish doomsday-prepper disaster refuge town. It wasn't hard for us to get accepted, considering my medical training and Kira's time in the service. It seemed a little out-there and silly, but cost us nothing, so why not? Just in case.

Then we pushed down our fear and went back to our lives, mostly forgetting the worry for years. I didn't even update our go-bag as I should have. We did get Julien and Lily on the list as plus-ones, but otherwise, let it fade from our minds. The chances of a Big One were low, just one-in-three odds in our lifetime.

Now...

Now we were fleeing. Not from the quake or its immediate devastation, but from the imminent desperation of millions of people who flicked on light switches, opened their faucets, and nothing happened -- ever again.

~~~~~

The sun wheeled overhead into a warm afternoon, and our shaken conversations drifted into silence.

Mountains climbed over us. We slipped unseen between the giants, as sharp crags tucked us away into a hidden alcove. The smooth, well-maintained county highway snaked along the bottom of a steep ravine. A clear river tumbled over smooth stones to the left of the road, ten feet down from rocky embankment. A cliff jutted up and out of sight to our right. Harsh lines and sharp blocks of exposed bedrock hinted at the huge machines that carved a path through here generations ago.

Soon we were forced to stop, and survey the scene ahead. A wire net at the top of the cliff had done its best to hold back an avalanche. This time, nature was too furious to stop the tide of stone. Luckily, it was mostly contained, but a large debris field and a few boulders had scattered out across the road in an obstacle course.

"Why does driving on the wrong side of the road scare me more than everything else?" I laughed nervously as Kira swiveled the steering wheel to the left side, then completely off the road, bouncing along before returning to the pavement.

"Yeah, same here!" Julien chuckled shakily and shook his head. "Weird, isn't it?"

"Oh, shit!" Kira exclaimed when a piercing noise assaulted our ears from a boulder scraping along the side.

"It's not like anyone will notice," Julien attempted a joke.

"Ouch!" Kira groaned and laughed. "I mean, you're not wrong though!" Just another scrape added to the other scratches, dents, and dings. There wasn't a corner of the jeep that didn't have some sign of wear and tear. Kira and I had been hoping to get something better for driving around the city. It was an older Jeep, before they computerized everything, which was nice. We didn't really need such a big offroad vehicle for picking up groceries, though. Minor repairs seemed pointless when the mechanic bill would cost more than the value of the vehicle. Just replace it, right? Only we never had quite enough money, and now...

My mind continued rambling internally to distract me from my worry for Lily.

We picked up speed as we left the landslide behind us. At least we hadn't punctured a tire on shards of rock. Even in normal circumstances, it would probably be difficult to get roadside assistance this far into the Cascade Mountains. Turning around another bend in the valley, the mountains finally receded half a mile in either direction, cut away by ancient ice sheets.

The sun gradually fell below the peaked mountaintops. Long, jagged shadows stretched across rolling farmland. Stately-grazing horses and cattle didn't even lift their heads to watch us pass. They were calm now, but a few had panicked and escaped their enclosures earlier in the day. They idly roamed about the roadway, forcing us to occasionally slow down again. We passed a collapsed farmhouse. I could see people digging through the rubble, and the piercing cry of a baby drifted through the air. I yearned to stop and help, but we had to continue onward. My thoughts drifted back. To the oppressive, clenching, shaking fear of Lily trapped...

I shook my head. Gotta think of something else. Luckily the route was clear along Highway 2! Didn't see any avalanches until this back road. When were the bridge repairs done? There was an accident with a semi-truck a few years back. Recently rebuilt. That's why we took this route. The I90 causeway at Snoqualmie Pass was old. Constructed before the 80s. Probably didn't make it. How many were there when it happened? Were there any...

Spiraling again...

"Do they grow apples around here?" I abruptly asked.

"Further east, I think," Kira responded with a shrug, not having noticed my tension. "Too cold up here, I guess? Don't know for sure."

I stayed focused on the landscape around us. Focused on the present. Rows of tidy trees swept by, deep green, glow fading as the sunlight dipped below the mountains. We left the pastureland and climbed higher into the twilight valley. "How much further?" I asked.

Kira pulled out her phone, then froze. No signal... Right. She stuffed it back into her pocket with a sigh, then tugged out a map book I stashed under the passenger seat. She clicked on the overhead light, then oriented the map.

"We just passed a sign for Harvey's Apples," I mused with a wry grin. I glanced at Julien in the back seat, and we shared knowing looks.

Kira groaned, "Fuck you. I told you it was a guess!"

I grinned as she returned to navigating. "Two more crossings," she said. Then a few minutes later, "Take a left." The pavement gave way to crunching gravel on a narrow one-lane access road. We carefully navigated along the twisting mountainous path for twenty minutes through a dense forest. She gestured. "Left ahead. Yep, right here. Then we... oh."

"Is that them?" Julien asked.

"Maybe?" Kira replied hesitantly. Trees loomed over us in the darkness. A black SUV blocking the road ahead lit up, as someone stepped out from the passenger side, with a tablet illuminating a dark face. I glanced at Julien nervously, then Kira. The thought flashed through my mind of putting the truck in reverse, but my best friend simply smiled and waved in recognition, the overhead light still illuminating her features. I released the breath I found myself holding.

"Keep your hands visible," Kira whispered quietly, putting hers on the dashboard. I kept mine on the steering wheel, while Julien reached his out to rest on Kira's shoulders.

Even following an established plan, greeting a stranger on a dark backroad in the mountains raised too many red flags to suspend disbelief in a horror movie. Especially since this man was built like a linebacker, and had a military-looking rifle slung across his intimidating body armor. Is it actually called body armor? I couldn't remember. This was more of Kira's thing.

Kira rolled down her window and chatted with... Shaun? I couldn't quite catch his name at the time. The whole experience felt surreal, like getting a traffic ticket.

Shaun checked off our names, then waved to the large vehicle. It revved up and cleared the road for us to pass. We couldn't see far through the dense forest, but ahead of us an automatic gate rattled open in a wall, just past a culvert spanning a creek. Like a moat. If only there were actually castles here in America, I thought, not for the first time.

We entered the brightly-lit ski resort. "Huh," I grunted, looking around at the paved, illuminated walking paths snaking through dense pine trees, leading to various cabins and larger buildings. There'd no longer be rich tourists coming to pay lots of money to hastily slide down a mountainside. Now, it might become a hopeful refuge from a suddenly hostile planet.

Julien mused thoughtfully at the lights, "Looks like the dam wasn't damaged." He oversaw maintenance of hydroelectric plants as part of his civil engineering job.

A guide hopped in the truck briefly to lead us to a tiny one-room cabin, where we parked. Our skills were useful enough to give our group some privacy, when compared to the large bunkhouses other residents might occupy.

I didn't know at the time how familiar this cabin would become one day. The shared single main room inside was only about as large as our former apartment's living room. There were bunk beds along the sides, end tables with lamps, a sofa against the back wall, and a doorway leading to a small bathroom and shower. Efficient.

Our guide provided an overview of the basic layout and schedules for the community, then left. We idled in the cabin half an hour before creeping curiosity and dread got the better of us. Navigating trails through brush-cleared forest, we came upon a large, brightly-lit mess hall. A few dozen people sat in hushed silence watching satellite TV.

The voice of a haggard-looking newscaster spoke over aerial footage in that emotionless tone used to maintain distance from a tragedy. "... footage from Isma Nahas, a light-aircraft pilot who took off from Renton airport at 8:19 am. We're still trying to get in contact with the KOMO 4 news team, or..." The unsteady camera panned over a landscape that looked carelessly bombed. The news anchor identified it as Kirkland. I barely recognized the place.

I couldn't stop thinking about how Lily and the others were faring. Disaster coverage often highlighted personal stories, but the chances of seeing anyone I knew were almost nonexistent.

After a few minutes, the news switched to a recap for those just tuning in.

At 8:23 am Pacific Time on August 11th the Cascadia Subduction Zone experienced a megathrust event measuring 9.6 on the Moment Magnitude scale. Multiple Pacific tectonic plates moved under North America along numerous fault lines stretching a thousand miles. An equally long tsunami, measuring up to 130 feet high, demolished the coastline from Alaska to northern California. Authorities expected to find no survivors from coastal towns. A matching westbound wave hit a hastily-warned Japan hours later.

The last Cascadian megaquake occurred hundreds of years ago. It wasn't until the 1990s when seismologists rediscovered the danger from oral histories of Native American survivors, Japanese Edo-era records, and geological findings.

California, which was further away and regularly experienced smaller quakes, was well-prepared and suffered minimal damage. Japan, too, had few casualties despite the devastating tsunami. However, in the American Pacific Northwest most buildings were old and predated the recognition of seismic risks. As a result, even though the tsunami lost force before reaching Seattle and Vancouver, the earthquake alone caused destruction that newscasters could only describe as apocalyptic.

Old homes, offices, hospitals, and fire stations crumbled. Landslides and collapsed bridges cut off major interstate routes, while seaports and airports sank into liquefied, artificial landfill. Scarce few options remained for disaster relief, especially on the vast scale necessary. Chemical plants and gas lines ruptured across hundreds of cities, and fires spread unchecked across burning rubble. Initial estimates put the death toll at a hundred thousand, but everyone expected that to rise significantly in the months ahead.

The true crisis, the fear gripping everyone, was the blackout. With power plants and transmission lines destroyed, authorities warned that restoring power could take months, if not years. Without power to run the pumps, 17 million people were about to run out of water to drink, much less fight the blazing infernos spreading through shattered cities.

The North American economy was in freefall as the Pacific Northwest burned to the ground and major supply lines to Asia were severed. In our complex, interconnected modern world, experts feared this regional catastrophe could ripple into a global crisis far worse than the Great Depression. There were discussions that any other crisis right now, natural or political, could collapse a century of global order into complete chaos. World leaders scrambled to come up with solutions that simply did not exist.

We watched until we were too numb to feel anything at all, then went back to our cabin, and collapsed in exhaustion.

~~~~~

Refuge 2.2: A New Dawn

Kira was on security rotation every day. She left in late evening, before returning in the early morning hours. Apparently, night was the most dangerous time for us right now.

My worry increased as Lily didn't show up the next day. Or the next. I had no way of contacting her or knowing what happened. Maybe the evacuation traffic was worse than we expected, and she's just having difficulty getting to us? She'll get here. She had to.

Kira managed to contact her parents on the satellite phone in the resort's security office. She dialed her father, then put them on speaker. Her family was SO relieved to hear our voices! They were safely at home on the East Coast, watching the news constantly with worry.

They expressed how proud they were of Kira and I for being prepared for such a terrifying disaster. The Lieutenant Colonel commended the survival skills of his Green Beret and how she had become such a capable, mature young woman. Kira could handle anything the world threw at her! Her mom was distraught that they couldn't do anything to help, but told us to watch each other's backs, stay safe, and keep in touch when we could. I thanked them for the kind words. Kira ended the call after some loving goodbyes.

"I'm glad we could let them know we're okay," I mused to Kira with a happy smile.

"Yeah!" she said with a beaming smile and sigh of relief. It took a visible weight off her shoulders to finally let her parents know she was alright.

"Yeah."

Then we went silent as my face fell. After a long while, I picked up the bulky sat phone. Hesitated. Kira looked at me sadly and said, "You don't have to... do it right away. We could wait until later today, or... something."

I took a deep breath. "Maybe it'll be better? With everything that happened?"

Kira didn't answer immediately. She looked at me sympathetically, took my free hand, and held it gently. "Maybe."

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Braced myself against the fear. I forced out in a rush, "I just want to get it out of the way." I started entering my mom's number. Maybe... it'll just be her?

Kira whispered quietly, "You can do this." I nodded to her without smiling, reassured by her presence, even if I couldn't feel happy at that moment. She squeezed my hand.

My mom answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, mom," I said with a sigh of genuine emotion in my voice. Despite everything, I did love her.

Then I heard my dad's voice in the background. "Is that her?"

"Oh, yeah. Just a moment," my mom said. I felt my heart sink as she put the other end on speaker.

"Hey, where are you?" my father asked curtly.

"We're safe, we're out at a resort where-"

"What? Why?! You're at a resort?! You should be at the hospital!"

"Well, dad, the hospital is gone and-"

"Just get back home and find something else! Why are you out camping on a weekday?!"

"Well, I can't go home because-" I suppressed a sigh as he cut me off again.

I finally just stopped trying to explain. I endured a lengthy silence from my mom while my father confidently informed me it was just an earthquake, they get those all the time in California and it wasn't that bad, so I should move out of that trashy rental apartment that was too small anyway and clearly a bad decision if it was so unstable, move in with that rich ex who wasn't actually abusive so I can get them to propose and use their money to finally enroll in med school and be a real...

I hung up. I tried and failed several times to politely excuse myself before giving up. I knew the abrupt stop would make things worse next time I called, but I... I just couldn't take it today. I had too much weighing on me. I lost my patience.

Kira gave me a big hug, then told me she was proud of me.

I couldn't help it. Hearing that from her... I broke down. I cried until my tears stained her shirt, my body shaking in my friend's comforting embrace. Through the tears I eventually whispered in a hoarse voice, "When holding the phone, I was thinking it would be easier if I just... hadn't called. I could have finally let it go. Let them think I was dead. I wanted to hurt them."

Kira just listened quietly, holding me, stroking my hair soothingly. I leaned my head on her shoulder, staring off into the distance before whispering, "But I... I felt ashamed... for considering that. I don't think I could be so..."

"Heartless, like they are?" Kira sighed and looked at me, with red puffy eyes and tear-streaked makeup. "Navalea, you have the right to defend yourself. The right to avoid people who hurt you."

"Even if it hurts them?"

"You can shoot a robber in self-defense."

"I know, it's just... different, you know?"

"Yeah. I know." She took a deep breath, then sighed, stroking my short hair some more. "You're trying to be better than them. You're too good for this world sometimes, Navalea. That's what I like about you, even if sometimes I wish you'd punch back."

"That's what I have you for, Miss Special Forces," I mused with a tearful smile.

She laughed and shook her head, then helped me wipe away the tears. I gathered myself, and we made our way back to our cabin.

When I was a kid, it was transformative to realize I had the power to put a stop to the oppressive weight of generational trauma passed down from parent to child. After all, that's the goal of humanity, isn't it? To provide a better life for the people after us than we had ourselves? Thinking about it that way gave me a sense of purpose. I wanted to help make the world a better place, and bring happiness to the people around me however I can.

I felt a weird sense of relief to turn my attention away from my family's fantasy world back to reality - as bleak as it was.

~~~~~

Aftershocks rippled through the valley for days. None as bad as the first quake, though they caused everyone to freeze and collectively hold our breath until the shaking passed. The billionaire who funded this pet project town never showed up. I saw his haggard family occasionally, who had arrived by helicopter before us. No one ever confirmed what happened to him. From what Kira heard, he might have been on a bridge that collapsed. I was thankful I knew Lily was in her home when it happened.

With the rich guy missing, who did that leave in charge? Kira wasn't sure. A few assistants and underlings showed up, but no one with clear authority. The local head of security for the ski resort was organizing things for now. Shaun, who we met at the gate.

I watched TV while Kira worked each day. A few of us sat there in the mess hall. The unnecessary or unneeded, lingering in a fugue state. They thankfully didn't need my skills yet. This odd, tiny town had a world-class doctor. Made sense. Their backup never arrived, but we had at least two people with medical training.

So I watched the devastation from distant aerial views. We watched fires and vast smoke plumes blanket beleaguered cities. There was no water to fight the blazes. The smoke reached us in the valley before long. Wildfire smoke was bad enough, but this? The cremated remains of cities was far more toxic. Everyone started wearing masks outdoors, and even then, people started coughing.

Huge, repurposed cargo ships anchored off seaports along the coast. Unable to enter demolished cargo terminals, they offloaded supplies onto smaller vessels. Not enough. Never enough. Desperate refugees fled in every direction. Fighting broke out with the Canadian border patrol.

The flood of new residents into the community tapered off over the week. My fear for Lily rose with each passing day. I talked to Kira about what we could do, but ultimately, any ideas fell short. The cell network wasn't coming back online any time soon. It was forty miles from the city to the refuge. Lily might not have even taken a direct route, and could be anywhere. There was no way to find her.

~~~~~

A week came and went.

I was in the mess hall when someone rushed in. A murmur of excitement spread through everyone in the room. Newcomers! It was the first group in a few days. I put on my mask and hurried outside, along with other people still missing loved ones.

The mid-afternoon sun barely peeked through reddish apocalyptic skies. The thick smell of smoke wafted faintly through my mask. I looked up the road to the entrance. Instead of a car, a few dozen weary people trudged down from the front gate. I recognized Kira escorting them. I couldn't see the faces of the other arrivals clearly, covered in makeshift masks, soot, and dirt, with pale ash caking their clothes and hair. Someone next to me suddenly ran forward, and embraced a young man among the arrivals, talking excitedly.

I did not recognize her at first.

The long, silken, black hair I loved to run my fingers through was hacked short in ragged ashen clumps. The bright face I used to kiss was distant and empty. Her clothes were dirty and torn, with a strip of cloth wrapped around one arm, and a broad dark spot blemishing the fabric. More dried black splotches and lines crisscrossed her once-pink shirt and blue jeans.

I held her. I cried. She returned the hug weakly, frail in my embrace. "Navalea," she whispered hoarsely.

"I... I thought you..."

"I'm here. It's okay."

Her hollow voice slapped me with guilt. Here she was comforting me, when Lily was the one in need! I felt a confusing swirl of despair and relief, happiness and anger. I desperately wanted to punish whoever had hurt her. Most of all, I felt that creeping, sickening guilt growing within my heart. It was irrational. I knew that. There was no way I could have rescued her. Even so...

My medical training saved me from spiralling completely into self-loathing. "What happened?" I asked while carefully holding her injured arm, inspecting the makeshift bandage. Other people crowded around us, but it appeared there were only a handful of reunions among the crowd. Most newcomers stood back, watching hesitantly.

"Someone tried to take our supplies. They... I..." Lily stared off into the distance. "I defended us..."

One of the other refugees placed a worried hand on Lily's shoulder. "You did what you had to," the woman said quietly. Lily looked so... wounded. Not just from the gunshot to her arm, but from something far worse.

"I have to get back," Kira said gently, gesturing to the entrance. In my concern for Lily I'd forgotten my best friend was there. Another security guard had come to take her place as escort. "Will you two be okay?"

"Yes. I'll take everyone to the clinic." I nodded and embraced Lily's hand, and she weakly squeezed me back.

We made our way to the infirmary. The buzzcut guard escorting us stationed herself in one corner of the room. Some people among this group clearly weren't on the approved list. That might get complicated, I thought briefly, before focusing back on my friend.

I got some water and applesauce for Lily while the doctor checked her out. She was lucky. It was a small-caliber wound in her arm, in-and-out, and the bullet hadn't hit anything major. The lethal amount of blood staining her clothes wasn't her own. I was reluctant to leave her side, but the other refugees needed help too. I took care of cleaning and bandaging their minor scrapes and cuts while the doctor focused on Lily's more-serious injury.

After getting tended, Lily rested on the cot, drinking thirstily and eating the applesauce. I rejoined her once my duties were complete.

"It was..." she started saying in a rough whisper, then hesitated.

"You don't have to talk," I reassured her. "Just rest a while."

Lily nodded, then finished eating. Another one of the security personnel came in briefly to let Lily know her pistol and shotgun was secured in the armory. She acknowledged him, and accepted the paperwork he provided. I blinked in confusion. Lily didn't own any guns? Now she did...

I wasn't sure how to process any of this. She had clearly gone through some shit. Maybe I try to take the same approach I did with Kira years ago? Just... don't treat her differently, and be supportive when needed. Give her some normalcy. I let my worries simmer on the back burner of my mind.

Julien joined us in the infirmary and shared a big hug with Lily. Then she showed us some of the manga she'd saved from home! Pulling that out of her pack, and reading it together, sparked some of the first joyful looks and smiles I'd seen since her arrival. Eventually, the doctor have her an antibiotic regimen and cleared her for release. Julien and I led her to our cabin.

"I'm gonna give you some privacy, and head back to the mess hall." Julien said while giving Lily one last hug. "Let me know if you need me!" He waved, and disappeared down a trail.

Lily dropped off her stuff inside and looked around. "Top bunk!" she exclaimed confidently.

"Hey, I already..."

"Claimed it? Before I got here? Psh..." She shook her head and started undressing. "You know that wouldn't hold up in court."

"Yeah, fair enough," I said and laughed, and got the shower going. I helped her get clean. She was still weak and emaciated, stumbling occasionally, struggling to wash herself and change clothes. Getting the ash out of her hair was the hardest part. After the shower she was hungry. We didn't have any real food in the cabin, but I gave her a pack of trail mix, which she devoured at the table. While she ate I rolled up her bloodstained clothes and threw them in a dumpster outside.

Kira and Julien joined us after Kira's shift ended. We pulled out a board game and played late into the night, before finally heading to bed. I joined Lily on the top bunk. It was difficult on a twin mattress, but we managed, just barely. I held Lily close as she cried herself to sleep, trembling in my arms as I quietly soothed her.

She never talked about how she got shot. Not with me, at least. I eventually convinced her to speak with the therapist in the community, and their conversations remained private. I just did my best to aid in her recovery. Her strength returned, over time, along with a healthy weight. Most of her bubbly personality came back.

When she felt better after a few days, we made love again. It seemed to release a lot of the stress built up inside both of us.

She shared the basics of her journey with us. Her car got stuck behind thousands of other people trying to flee the city. She met up with other groups heading north, who travelled together for safety. Some split off along the way to meet up with loved ones in the area. Most of those who remained in the group were recent immigrants to Seattle, and had nowhere else to go, so Lily led them here.

Kira came home one day obviously frustrated. "They're going to kick them out," she said angrily. "There's women and children, and they're going to kick them out."

"What?" I said, looking up from the manga Lily and I were reading.

"Oh, FUCK THAT!" Lily shouted and jumped from the table, storming out of the cabin.

"Lily, wait!" I hurried after her, with Kira close behind. Our new home was about to face its first test.

~~~~~

I spread my hands in a slow, deliberate halt to the tension. "Okay, okay. How many people on the list have actually shown up?"

Shaun's fingers danced over the tablet screen, his tapping echoing in the still, cramped room. "About eighty percent," he replied.

We'd marched into the security office to challenge the order that would turn away every unfamiliar face. There was Shaun, the image of disciplined resolve in military fatigues, buzz cut hidden beneath a cap, with a frown on his face. The implicit threat of martial law was palpable.

Lily's voice cracked with indignation, her stance defiant. "So there's room for more?!"

Shaun's head shook slowly in a measured refusal. "I don't have the clearance to add anyone."

Lily's frustration exploded, her hands rising as if to physically grasp the truth. "Then who does? Where are they?" Her tone was raw, desperate--a plea masked as anger.

Shaun sighed deeply. Well, that felt condescending! He looked at Lily as if she was an inconvenience, not the one who had walked those miles with the refugees, had seen their faces.

I took a deep breath to respond, but Shaun waved a hand to cut me off. Rude. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he grunted. "If anyone was going to make it, they would be here already." He looked over and addressed Lily. "Hell, you guys walked here. That's not the problem."

He stood from his desk and went to a filing cabinet. Sorting through it briefly, he pulled out two manilla folders and dropped them on the desk with a thunk. There were inch-think reams of papers stuffed inside. I saw names on the edge.

"This is just yours alone," he said and pointed to me, then Kira. "And yours. VIP dossiers right here in the main office, because of your backgrounds."

"That's... more extensive than I expected." I was taken aback. I've never seen a background check so deep. It felt kind of violating.

He shook his head. "Look, I understand where you're coming from. What I'm saying is corporate had a whole team vet every single person who got in here. Every detail of your lives, even the..." he hesitated, "personal matters. With internet access we no longer have. Everything. Right down to the awards you won for middle school science fairs."

He pointed at the door in a sharp gesture. "Can any of you say for certain no one from the new arrivals ever killed someone while driving drunk? Beat their spouse? Abused a child?"

Kira's voice was a tight thread of frustration. "What about the kids? Can't we at least let them in?"

Shaun collapsed in his chair, the leather creaking under his overworked exhaustion. "If we let in the kids without their families, who takes care of them? There's eight of them, and one's barely a year old. What family are we handing them to? Do you know how to care for an infant?"

The room fell still, heavy with the weight of his words. Kira and Julien sank into the chairs, the silence pressing in. Lily paced again, her hands clasped tightly behind her, a figure of controlled chaos. I leaned against the wall, struggling to think of a solution.

Shaun's voice broke the quiet, softer now, more resigned. "Look. I was just an E-4 in the army, 92Y. Supply. Managing gear, that kind of thing. I wasn't some special-forces badass like her." He gestured toward Kira, who offered a shrug. I sometimes forgot my nerdy, unassuming friend could handle herself in a fight. She never felt the need to announce it.

Shaun continued, his voice losing its edge, revealing the cracks beneath. "After getting out I took a cushy job keeping rich assholes from breaking shit when they got drunk at a pretty mountain resort." He threw his hands up in the air. "I wasn't part of the inner circle! I don't care if we change how things are done."

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk, hands out in an offer of capitulation. "Think about it carefully, though. If you want in, the consequences will weigh on you too, for better or worse."

"That's rough," I mused and nodded, "I see where you're coming from. What was the original plan for... well, making decisions?"

"Follow the corporate structure," Shaun replied with an exasperated wave of his hand. "Directives from the top."

"A dictatorship," Lily muttered under her breath.

Shaun shrugged, unbothered. "Call it what you want. Honestly, my priority is just making sure we don't put the whole damn community at risk for the sake of naive altruism. It's fucking horrific out there."

Lily's jaw tightened, a quick flash of anger lighting her features as she shot back "Well, you don't have to be so fucking condescending about it!" Then she took a deep breath, and softened. "But... I get your point."

"Yeah." Kira slouched deeper into her chair, arms crossed, eyes distant.

I exhaled slowly, trying to find the right words to defuse the tension in the room. "It's a... difficult decision." I paused, looking between them. "Maybe too much weight for any one person's shoulders. I think we should hear from a range of voices."

Lily's eyes flicked to me, her brow furrowing. "Well... we're basically a small town, right?" Her voice softened, as if testing the waters. "Why don't we organize things like that?"

"A town council or something?" Kira added, her voice muffled by the shifting of her chair.

"Yeah."

"I haven't ever worked in government," Shaun shrugged. "I don't know anything about that."

Julien let out a frustrated groan, his hands gripping the edge of his chair as he leaned forward and spoke up for the first time. "I've spent years wrestling with that mess as a civil engineer." He massaged his temple as if trying to smooth out old scars.

Kira's eyes flickered between them, her curiosity igniting a spark. "So, do we have elections or something?"

He shook his head. "Not usually. Especially not for communities our size. It's typically just a team of the leaders of each municipal department. In bigger cities, they might elect a mayor or hire a city manager."

"Hm. How many people in total?" I asked Shaun.

He lifted his tablet and tapped a few times. "829 so far."

"Hm," Julien mused as he leaned back in his chair. "In Washington, that wouldn't normally even make a town. Everything would fall to the county. Honestly, our situation is unprecedented in a lot of ways. No one's ever been completely cut off from the government structure like this. I'm not sure how much my experience will help."

"Like a city-state or something, from ancient times," Lily nodded with excitement in her voice, her anger fading as the ideas emerged.

"With no asshole politicians telling us what to do," Julien mused thoughtfully.

I looked around around at the people gathered in that office. Could we be building something new here? Working together to survive and thrive in a frightening new reality. The idea was dizzying, but there was an undeniable thrill to it, too. The weight of the uncertainty felt heavy, but beneath it, something stirred. Would we have done things differently if we knew the ramifications of the decisions we made that day? Maybe. I don't know.

I chimed in with excitement, "Let's keep things simple. A council with a leader from each vital area for survival. They can work independently, but any member of the council can call for a vote on matters that affect multiple departments. Sounds fair?"

I scanned the room. One by one, nods rippled around the table, a silent chorus of agreement. Even Shaun offered a shrug and a nod.

I turned to her with renewed determination. "What are our top priorities if we're here for the long haul?"

"Security, obviously," Shaun responded while listing things off on his fingers. "Power, food, water, shelter."

"Water and power come from the dam, right?"

"Yeah." Shaun's eyes shifted briefly to Julien. "You've done a good job overseeing the inspections. Thanks for that." Julien offered a small nod with a flicker of pride.

I allowed my mind to wander, envisioning a future built on these basics. "We could bundle those into one department. Utilities."

"Makes sense," Lily agreed, her voice a calm counterpoint by now.

Shaun scrolled through his tablet. "Then there's medical care... and in the worst-case scenario, most residents might have to work in agriculture and ranching next year, down in the larger valley."

"Wow." Lily's eyes widened as the reality struck her. "I hadn't even thought about that."

I shook my head slowly, a mix of excitement and unease stirring inside me. "Yeah, it's daunting to imagine us farming for survival."

"How long will our current food supplies last?" Kira's tone held both concern and curiosity.

Shaun's fingers darted across his tablet. "About 17 months with the current population. There were plans to chopper in more supplies, but we lost contact with the people needed to coordinate that. I'm reserving our limited fuel supply for emergencies. For now, we need to organize foraging and hunting parties."

I nodded, processing the weight of her words. "Hm... 17 months, is that good or bad? I don't know anything about hunting or farming."

"We should definitely include an expert on the council," Kira mused.

I counted on my fingers, the idea taking shape. "So we have security, utilities, medical, and food supply. Or just supply?"

Julien shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him as he noted, "Even number of people."

"Yeah, ties would be a mess," I agreed. "How about mental health and town unity? We won't make it if we tear each other apart like Lord of the Flies."

Lily's eyes softened, and she offered, "Could call that... Department of Community. In a normal town it might be Parks and Recreation, but we have no parks, and 'recreation' alone feels like a weird name."

"Department of Community sounds good to me," Kira said.

I looked around at the faces in the cramped office, each marked with worry, hope, and a hint of daring. In that moment, the spark of creating something new -- a community built on careful choices and shared dreams. I could only hope the decisions we made here would shape a future different from the harsh world outside.

We discussed ideas for a little while longer, then split up to continue the conversation with other people involved in various aspects of running the town.

Everyone agreed with the basic idea, and each department selected a representative for the council.

The first council consisted of:

Community: Dr. Miyano Kunie, PsychologistFood: Arthur Lloyd, EcologistHealth: Navalea Chavoshi, ParamedicSecurity: Shaun Solomon, Private SecurityUtilities: Julien Navarro, Civil Engineer

Julien wasn't happy to be included. There were electrical engineers and plumbers in the town, and other people familiar with such utilities, but the expert who was supposed to oversee the dam never arrived. Julien reluctantly accepted the position.

I was surprised I ended up on the council, too. Dr. Akintoye knew far more about medicine as chief of surgery at Swedish Hospital in Seattle. However, when I brought up the subject, he turned down the role. "I had enough of politics in the hospital system," he explained and shook his head. "Plus, you have youthful energy that's long faded for me, and more experience dealing with the sort of field trauma response we might need."

I looked at Dr. Akintoye in a different light after that. It hadn't sunk in just how along in years my new mentor was. I saw it now, in the wrinkles and grey hair, gradually creeping in below the brown hair dye he'd used in the past. It was a sobering realization. I agreed to defer to the doctor regarding all matters of patient care in the infirmary, and he'd let me handle the big picture stuff.

~~~~~

Once everyone settled on how to make the decision, it came time to actually do it.

Julien suggested we hold council sessions in the mess hall where everyone could watch and participate. However, Dr. Kunie pointed out it might be better, for now at least, to deliberate in private so we could present a unified front to the community. It might help avoid factionalism and widespread arguments. Julien changed his mind, so we met in the office in the administrative building that had originally been set aside for the CEO.

We unanimously agreed to have Dr. Kunie and Dr. Akintoye evaluate the mental and physical health of anyone before they're accepted into the community. In addition, all adults would have to contribute to the community's welfare however they could. Then after several rounds of voting, the decision was made to accept all the refugees into the community. Shaun and Arthur voted to only accept critical roles, concerned about precedent if other, larger groups of refugees arrived. However, they accepted the council's decision, and never voiced their disagreements in public.

We didn't announce anything right away. The doctors wanted time to complete the health screenings first. We also needed to figure out how to house everyone.

We unanimously agreed to modify the cabin policy to only prioritize those with privacy concerns or high-stress roles: families with children, doctors, department heads, that kind of thing. This meant if Julien and I left the council, our household would probably have to move to a bunkhouse. It seemed like a fair sacrifice for the sake of the families. Cabin leaders could also invite others to join their cabins.

Anyone else would be allocated private housing on a case-by-case basis. The three ex-millionaires who bought their way into cabins would have their housing re-assessed. Dr. Kunie voiced concerns their preferential treatment would eventually cause animosity from the rest of the town, and we agreed. They didn't have any legal recourse to appeal beyond the council, and Shaun didn't consider them a physical threat.

All the newcomers thankfully passed the health evaluations. With that out of the way, we finally informed the community in the first impromptu town hall session in the mess hall. Several hundred people showed up! That was a bit nerve-wracking.

However, the mood remained quiet and calm, with just a few grumbles. Basically a best-case outcome. Audible relief and joyful crying broke out among the newcomers as we announced they could stay.

A few who didn't have families started asking around for any cabins they could join.

That was when... well, that's how we met a shameless redhead from Scotland.