Erica:

The fire was hypnotic, its crackle and dull glow sending me into a short of trance. In this state, I started remembering times spent beside our fire at home, with Mom telling stories of the time before the blackout as we drifted to sleep and dreamed of her tales. I could almost hear her humming and caressing my face, the memories so fresh and so strong. I was shocked back into reality before I could really feel her absence. Just like always, I felt like the memories I created weren't real, that they were just a method to help me grieve for her.

That's what Eli had always told me. They were just memories.

I looked down at the object placed on my knee by my new little friend Lily. It looked like a bracelet, interwoven with blades of grass and flowers into a beautiful pattern.

I held it up to eye level to get a closer look. "You made this? All by yourself?"

Lily pointed behind her. "Julia helped me."

"Wow." I breathed, amazed that two little girls could create something so intricate from scratch. "Thank you."

"Lil," Peter squatted down beside us. "Is everyone in bed?"

"Yes."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Everyone?

Lily turned to me. "I wanted to give her this."

I showed Peter the bracelet as proof after he looked to me expectantly. He smiled a little, but maintained his role as parental figure. "I need you well rested for tomorrow, remember?"

She nodded obediently, squeezing her feeble arms around his solid neck. She waved to me before skipping into her bed beside Julia, located below a window in the wall.

I waited until Lily was out of earshot. "She's so precious."To be so young without any parents...it begged the question of how they all got there.

Peter nodded, tossing another log in the fire. He wasn't much for conversation, though I could tell he didn't mind the company.

"How old is she?"

"About six. I'm taking her on a trip to the market tomorrow morning. She can sell those bracelets."

I tried to tie the bracelet around my wrist. I was never very coordinated, and this task was no exception. Peter watched me struggle for a moment before offering to help me.

"How long does it usually take to set traps?" I peeked out into the rainy darkness and worried for Eli.

"They'll be back shortly." He pulled the ends together and tied the knot securely on my wrist. He cleared his throat to break the silence that followed. "I never really apologized about your cat..."

I surprised myself with a smile. "You could have shown some sympathy."

"I'm not really an animal person."

I played with my fingers and watched the fire again, wondering how much he would let me ask him. "You take very good care of them. The children."

He shrugged it off, leaning against the log beside me. "Somebody has to do it."

"Are all of them orphaned?"

"Every last one." I could see the flames dancing in his pupils. The glow highlighted the angles in his face as well. I wondered if I seemed as beautiful to him as he did to me."

I swallowed roughly. "Even you and Michael?"

He remained composed. "Like I said, all of our parents are dead. Killed in an ambush by the Militia."

I stared down at my boots, picking at the laces. "I'm sorry."

He continued on hesitantly, like it was the first time he was sharing this with anyone beside his brother. "I think all of them knew what would eventually happen. It wasn't a matter of if the Militia came - It was when."

"So what did you do?" I scanned my eyes over each little pink face, fast sleep about the room. "All of the kids...how did you survive?"

Peter spoke evenly. "Our parents hid us before the Militia came. We were each kissed goodbye and sent down to the basement."

I could infer that these children were residents in the building of Rebel parents. The Militia has killed plenty of people before, but they showed absolutely no mercy for Rebels. I could only imagine the rest of their story.

"We waited for hours. Michael and I were the first to come upstairs. The Militia was gone, but they killed all of our parents before leaving. Didn't burn that flag, though."

I looked over at the dangling cloth, the sole purpose of why the building was ambushed. "You kept it even after they -"

His lack of emotion concerned me. "I might not remember what the United States was like, but I know it was a hell of a lot better than this."

I struggled to work around a lump in my throat. "How old were you?"

"About Michael's age, maybe a little older." His jaw stayed straight and even, a level of composure he needed to have with his place as guardian of these children. "So what about yours?"

I shifted my legs anxiously. "My parents?"

"You said you didn't have any. What happened to them?"

Eli wouldn't have wanted me to give that sort of information away. But how could I withhold the truth after what Peter revealed to be about his parents? "My mother was taken. I don't know if she's still alive."

Peter scowled, aware of what happened to women when they were taken by the Militia. "Did they know she was a Rebel?"

I'd never really considered that. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"You might be lucky, then. She could still be alive."

I'd never considered that, either. "Maybe."

"And what about your dad?"

We were interrupted by the return of our brothers and Skip. The rain-soaked boy frolicked up to us with pure enthusiasm in his eyes. "You'll never guess what happened!"

I smiled along with Peter. "What happened, Skip?"

"If you tell him, he won't let you set traps again." Michael warned him.

Peter's forehead wrinkled a bit, but he kept smiling. "Do I want to know?"

As Skip began telling his story, I watched my brother set down his things and peel off his sweatshirt to dry by the fire. He looked smug, listening to Skip.

"...so after Michael left I found this really big tree, so I climbed it, and then we saw the Militia coming and I got out my -"

"Wait," Peter held Skip's chest to pause him. He looked to Michael instantly. "The Militia?"

"It was only two watchmen." Michael explained. "I couldn't see any weapons on them."

Peter still looked uneasy, but Skip continued. "Anyway, I got out my slingshot and pegged them with acorns!" He grinned proudly.

Peter looked at Michael again and frowned. "Didn't I tell you not to climb any trees tonight?"

Skip's focus moved to Eli, resting his back against the pile of logs beside me. "He bet that I couldn't climb it before Michael came back." Skip pointed an accusatory finger at my irresponsible brother.

My mouth dropped open. "Elliott!"

"What?"

"Don't worry about it. Everyone made it home safe, that's all that matters." Peter stood slowly, stretching the muscles in his broad shoulders. My glare was strong enough to scold Eli for him.

We all said goodnight and sunk into our beds for the night. They could only offer us a few blankets, but we spread the larger one out on the floor and used the others to cover ourselves.

Eli was lying on his side, his back facing me. I listened for the sound of his snoring, but I didn't hear it. "Are you still awake?"

He grunted in response.

"Are we still leaving in the morning?"

"At the crack of dawn." He confirmed. "Don't plan on sleeping in."

The rain was beginning to slow, only a few drops making it past the treetops. "Eli?"

"Hmm?"

I hesitated, staring absently at the ceiling. "Do you think Dad is worried about us?"

Eli sighed, rolling over on his back to stare at the ceiling with me. "He's probably on the way to Philadelphia to start his training."

My bottom lip twitched as I fought my emotions. "I just...I don't think we should have left."

"You didn't have to go anywhere."

"But I wanted to. We both wanted to leave him. We shouldn't have..." The tears welled up in puddles inside my eyelids.

"Erica, I had to leave. He was going to brand me with Monroe's initials and drag me down there against my will. I had to run. You could have stayed."

"But you would have been all alone."

"I would have left anyway. I don't want to waste my life with a man like that."

The tears spilled over. "Eli, he's our father!"

"You followed me out here, didn't you? You already picked me over him. He doesn't care about us. Look what happened to Mom." He was spitting out his words like curses.

I took a few breaths to stabilize my voice. "All of their parents were killed by the Militia. We should at least be grateful we have our father."

Eli jerked his shoulder back as he rolled to his side again. "I stopped being grateful when Dad came home with the burn mark."

It took me a long time to fall asleep. I felt my consciousness go in and out, but it never went deep enough for sleep. Before I knew it, Eli was nudging me to open my eyes.

The air was thick with fog, yet the sun shined bright. I sat up too quickly, my head spinning at the sensation.

"Come on." Eli urged me. "We're burning daylight."

It was still very early. The sun was just stretching its arms. "Shouldn't we wait to say goodbye?

"I don't think that's a good idea."

My eyelids were still baggy, but I gathered my bag and my baseball bat before following Eli outside. I walked a few feet into the trees and turned to catch a glimpse of the crumbly brick building. The fog lay mysteriously over the walls, challenging my memory of it. Soon, the view was completely clouded over.

Like it never even existed.