Tatiana

"Hurry. The ceremony's gonna start soon." The dark-skinned girl tugged her mother through the town square.

A hard lump formed in Tatiana's throat as she watched them. She'd give anything to spend time with her mama again, but the Cataclysm had ripped that possibility away. The teenager bounced on the balls of her feet and craned her neck to see over the crowd. Her hand waved for her mother to catch up.

"Clear Sky Day isn't going anywhere," said the mother.

"But, Mom," the girl's voice rose in pitch. "I want to get a good spot."

"All right, all right. You can go on ahead, but keep your wits about you. You've heard the rumors."

"I will. I promise."

She pecked her mother's cheek and ran off. The woman smiled, but her gaze darted across the town square as if expecting an imminent attack. Already taut knuckles tightened their grip on her cloth shopping bag. Worry lines creased her face. Still scanning the merchants and shoppers, she hurried to follow her daughter.

Tears stung Tatiana's eyes as the two vanished into the crowd. No one had worried about her since the Cataclysm eight years ago. She pushed her feelings back, something she wished she could do with those around her. A maelstrom of emotions bombarded her from the crowd: excitement, happiness, fear, joy, anger. Even after years of struggle to keep them out, other people's strong emotions still leaked into her mind like a winter's chill. Her empathy had its uses, like knowing who was too angry to approach, but sometimes the feelings were so overwhelming that she wanted to run off and hide.

A pair of guards strutted by, and Tatiana made herself as inconspicuous as possible. Unlike the people who had watched Atherton's walls during her last visit to town four years earlier, they 'felt' cruel. Hired thugs doing a job. Not citizens guarding their homes. One of them, a dirty-looking man with greasy hair and a half-buttoned uniform, grabbed a loaf of bread off a cart without pausing. The merchant said nothing, but Tatiana saw the muscles in her jaw twitch.

An old man with clothes as worn and patched as Tatiana's glared at the guard. "Damn mercenaries. They think they own this town."

His companion nudged him. "Shh, they'll hear you. Besides, their boss already does own most of Atherton. Just be glad they haven't come after us."

The old man wrinkled his nose. "We should leave."

"And go where, Pops? Long Island's under water. Most of New Jersey is a ghost town. I know northern Kentucky isn't your idea of home, but we have family here."

"Humph. There should be an American flag flying in this square."

"Pops, it's time to accept there is no more USA. Cataclysm killed it."

The voices faded as they walked away. Tatiana held Fifi close, adjusting the sling that held the tiny white poodle. Fifi was more than capable of taking care of herself now, but her size and coloration drew too much attention. It was better she remained hidden.

"Look, they're coming!"

A procession of cloaked figures exited a large white building to the slow, rhythmic beat of a drum, like a death march. The figures moved toward the center of the town square where a tall pole stood shrouded in gray cloth.

Tatiana watched from a distance, away from the milling crowd, knowing what would transpire. She'd seen similar Clear Sky Day ceremonies in other towns. Ten ribbons wove around the pole, each representing one of the ten months the sun had been blocked after the Cataclysm. Still in their gray cloaks, the dancers began to step around the pole, unweaving the ribbons as the drums intensified their rhythm. The crowd began to clap and stomp their feet to the tempo, spurring the dancers to pick up their pace. Bit by bit the ribbons came unwound until the cloth on top fell free, revealing a gold-painted sun sculpture. At the same time, the dancers tossed off their cloaks. Waves of joy rode on the crowd's roar as the noonday sun glinted on its land-bound model.

Tatiana closed her eyes, fighting back tears. Clear Sky Day meant different things to different people. It was a rebirth of life, as miraculous as a woman's womb. But for Tatiana and others, it also meant the beginning of isolation, fear, and loneliness.

A voice rang out right next to Tatiana. "The Day of Reckoning destroyed our old world eight years ago. The miracle of Clear Sky Day gave birth to a new one. Celebrate our renewal with a Clear Sky Day sweet."

The man pressed a sticky egg-shaped confection into Tatiana's hand before she could react, then continued dispensing treats through the crowd. Her chest tightened. It wasn't the blue pants or plain cotton shirt he wore that made Tatiana's breath catch. She ducked behind a tree. Her vision blurred, but the neatly painted yellow and orange star on the man's forehead was already etched in her mind. She'd seen more of that brand on both men and women over the last few years. Would He be with them? Would He be right behind her, that haunting shadow she'd dodged for nearly four years?

A warm wet tongue touched her hand, soothing her mind. The panic withdrew. Tatiana glanced down. She didn't remember sticking her hand into Fifi's sling. It used to be Tatiana calming and caring for the sickly pup, but that was a long time ago. Honey from the sweet oozed between the fingers of her other hand, crushed and forgotten. She stuffed it into the sling for Fifi. One of them should enjoy it, and her stomach was too knotted to eat.

Hands clasped her shoulders as she stepped away from the tree. A body pressed against her back, a hard bulge making clear both gender and desire. One filthy arm slipped across her chest and held her tight. Another hand slid down her side and began to claw at her skirt.

"You're a sweet little thing. My kinda Clear Sky Day treat."

His words slurred together and the smell of booze was seconded by that of old sweat. Images again blurred Tatiana's vision, memories that refused to die. Memories that made her stomach twist. She kicked back and caught the man in the knee, loosening his grip enough for her to slip out of his meaty grasp and turn. Tatiana expected to face a drunken townsperson. Instead she found herself face to face with a guard in a stain-splattered dusty-green uniform. Her throat tightened as she backed away. The man's face flushed, and he teetered for a moment, then he lunged.

Tatiana dodged, bumping into a passerby. People looked and hurried away. No one intervened. She clutched Fifi tightly, hoping no one could hear the dog's growing snarl. Energy tingled her fingers, and she felt Fifi tremble beneath her hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, soldier?"

The newcomer, a scar-faced man with a metal star on his sleeveless uniform, smashed his fist into the drunken guard's head with cold efficiency. The eagle tattoo on his bulging right bicep flexed as he bent down and whispered in the drunk's ear. Sun glinted off his shaved head.

At a flick of his hand, two guards grabbed the drunk and dragged him off. People around them scurried away, eyes averted. The scar-faced guard vanished. Tatiana tried to still her trembling hands. It wasn't too late to flee this place.

So much had changed in this town since her last visit, on a cold November day four years ago. The small northern Kentucky town had been just a few blocks of patched-up buildings and farms then. Now it bustled, nearly a mile wide, not counting the fields. It was bigger, prospering, yet something didn't...