The eight-year-old swung her legs as they dangled from the green-velvet-upholstered couch, her shiny black dress shoes sparkling under the dusty overhead light of the hotel room. Her parents' voices floated through the open doorway, hushed and urgent.
"There's an emergency evacuation for the entire region right now! Everything's going to be confused and rushed; if we're going to leave the country, it has to be now!" insisted her father, his deep rumble unfamiliarly frustrated. Her mother's reply was choked with tears.
"But do we really have to leave the country? Surely they won't chase us forever, and what will such a sudden change do to Saya?"
"We don't have time to argue! It's either leave now or risk losing Saya altogether to that shady research program, and I'll be damned if I let those crooked monsters get their hands on my daughter!"
Daddy said a bad word, Saya thought, unsure of what was going on. She scratched absently at the marks encircling her wrist, one of which was glowing a bright red. The conversation continued, though now more quietly. Finally, the clack of her mother's black heels on the scuffed linoleum announced her entrance into the room. A strained smiled stretched her features, and her ink-black hair, usually pulled into a sloppy pony tail, was loose around her shoulders. As an eccentric artist, Saya's mother, Yasu, almost always had stray traces of paint somewhere on her person. At the moment, however, she had none, as it had been weeks since she'd last lifted a brush. Her honey-colored eyes watched her daughter warily, as if she were fighting with what to say.
"Saya, darling, we're leaving, so I need your help packing up, okay?"
"Okay, Mommy. Where are we going?" the child asked as she hopped down from her perch. Without much care she swept the possessions she'd laid out on the coffee table into her tiny canvas backpack; a book on ancient Arabic, a set of paints, a plastic triceratops skeleton, a junior excavation kit complete with brushes and magnifying glasses, a variety of colorful hair bows, several granola bars and juice boxes, and a trilobite fossil she'd received on her fifth birthday. Her mother walked into the bedroom and repacked the few articles she'd removed from their luggage. Over her shoulder, her mother called out an answer, voice just a tad too cheery.
"We're thinking Germany! Isn't that exciting, darling? Germany!"
Saya stood frozen before breaking into a juvenile whine.
"But it doesn't want me to leave Japan, Mommy! It would be sad if I left! I don't want it to be sad!"
Her mother rushed back to her side and knelt to wipe away a single tear.
"Who's 'it,' darling?"
""It,' Mommy, 'it!' The thing Daddy showed me at the big building, when I got the funny marks!" she explained, pulling up her canary-yellow dress's left sleeve to reveal a line of strange black symbols along her small wrist. The one glowing red was now pulsing, as if in fear. Her mother pulled her sleeve back down, as though the sight of the symbols burned like fire. Avoiding her offspring's eyes, so similar to her own, she sighed and looked towards the television clock. The gold bumble-bee pendant around her throat glinted as it swung and thudded back into its place on her floral blouse.
"Saya, let's not talk about that, okay? We have to go, no matter what."
Swallowing up her protests, Saya nodded and followed her mother to continue packing.
…
"Are we all ready to go?" Saya's father, Natsume, asked, looking at his family and their luggage. He ran a calloused hand through his shaggy hair, the same mahogany color as his daughter's, and smiled encouragingly.
"Yes, Daddy!"
"Honey," Yasu mumbled uncertainly. "Do you want to take this?"
In her hand was a leather-bound notebook with a crème-colored ribbon tying it firmly shut. Natsume grimaced, but accepted the object from his wife. He pushed his glasses up and glanced at it thoughtfully with his dark gray eyes.
"That's about 'it', right Daddy?" asked Saya, her eyes widening with interest, as they always did with her father's archeological projects. With a wry chuckle, Natsume patted Saya's head.
"How about you hold onto this for me, my little assistant?"
"Okay!"
While Yasu opened the door and checked the hall for any suspicious figures, Natsume opened Saya's backpack, slid the notebook in, and zipped it back closed. He took hold of two rolling suitcases and shuffled out the door, whistling under his breath. Her mother snatched the remaining suitcase and offered her free hand to the child.
The street was pure, unadulterated chaos. Children crying, people screaming and shouting, and the mob of panicked figures running like a flooded river down the road. In the distance, Saya saw a form hovering high in the sky. It was too far away to be sure, but it was shaped like a sword, crackling with red lightning, and, even as she watched, breaking into pieces. As Yasu tugged Saya after her father into the crowd, the form began to drop. There was a thunderous rumble, shaking the earth she walked on. She turned back and saw the place below where the form had been was something resembling the nuclear mushroom clouds she'd watched in action movies.
She diverted her attention forwards as her family was pulled along with the flow of humans. People were shoving and yelling, and it took all her effort not to trip. Eventually, all her effort wasn't enough, and she did trip, losing her grip on her mother's hand as she did. She careened into the road, scraping her palms as she caught herself. Honey eyes watered with pain, and she whimpered as someone stepped thoughtlessly on her leg. Someone else, a Good Samaritan, lifted her to her feet, but was gone before she could say 'thank you.'
"Mommy!" she screamed into the crowd, searching for her parents' faces and trying her hardest not to be knocked back down. "Daddy!"
She thought she heard someone yelling her name, but then she was pushed out of the way and into the paved ground of an alley. Sitting up with a sniffle, Saya noticed that the screams were getting louder. Turning towards where she'd seen the mushroom cloud, the girl saw a wave of raging red flames crashing down. Those who couldn't outrun it burned away into nothing. There was a sudden pain in her throat, and Saya realized distantly that she was screaming, probably louder than she ever had in her life, but the sound was lost to the symphony of screams around her. Out of instinct, she lifted her arms in front of her and saw the symbol alight with red was now flickering like a dying ember. As the flames came upon her, there was a flash of… Something. It seemed like every color she'd ever seen. And then, it all faded to black.
…
Her eyes stung when she cracked them open, and she blinked repeatedly for nearly a minute to get rid of the dust. When she finally did force them to open, she saw it was nearly pitch black around her, except for a handful of sunrays. Blindly reaching a hand towards the light, she pushed and a wall of rubble fell away, letting the light in fully. Somehow, a cave of debris had formed around her, coating her in dust. As she stood, numbly, Saya realized her right foot was bare and the left sleeve of her dress looked as though it had been burned away, revealing the marks on her wrist. She assessed her surroundings; it was as if she'd fallen into the pictures of ruins her father had shown her. Everything was broken rock and brick, buildings collapsed, with no sign of life.
"Mommy!" she tried to yell, but her voice was so hoarse she could barely hear herself. Starting, robotically, in a random direction, she struggled to climb over hills of wreckage. Shards of glass and rock imbedded themselves into her hands, knees, and foot, but she barely felt them. Her backpack thudded softly against her back. As she crested one pile of stones, her skirt caught on a stray tangle of wire, causing her to trip and roll down the other side. Shrieking, Saya felt shock as cold water, tasting of salt, broke her fall. She paddled back to land and stared at the liquid in absolute confusion.
Why is the ocean here?
As she stumbled back across the ruins, her hair dripping, Saya caught a glint out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't sure why, but she felt pulled towards it.
It was her mother's bumble-bee pendant. One of the wings had broken off, and the body was partially warped, like it had begun to melt.
"Mommy!" she screamed, forcing her voice to work. "Daddy!"
Only silence greeted her.
…
It was two days before she was found. Saya stayed where she'd found the necklace, quietly waiting for her parents. An inventory of her bag's contents showed that while her paints, hair bows, excavation kit, and books were safe, her fossil and triceratops had cracked into pieces. When she was hungry, she took a bite of a crumbling granola bar. When she was thirsty, she took a sip of a juice box. Keeping her father's advice about supply conservation in mind, she still had two granola bars and half a juice box left when the search party found her. They were in a deep blue helicopter, shining lights and calling for survivors on a massive speaker. She saw one of the figures point in her direction before a light shone directly upon her. She held up a hand to keep from being blinded as a ladder dropped down several yards away. A brunette man in a tactical suit descended down and was next to her in seconds. He asked a lot of questions, but she didn't really hear him, remaining silent.
As he lifted her onto his shoulder and had them lifted back into the helicopter, Saya clutched desperately at her mother's necklace.