The Last Flower on Earth

The Last Flower

The red light is more pleasuring to my eyes than blue, then again everything is not cast in blue now is it.

The floors? Red.

My shirt? Appears red.

Literally everything that isn't in my room? #FF0000 or close enough to it!

I'm tired of this colour since it always turns on when something wrong is happening, and if it's coming out of me then something really bad is happening.

I dress myself for the cold outdoors and wait for the lift doors to open before me.

I wait for the lift...

Lift this is your cue... come down to pick me up.

I guess I have to climb up and unstick it, I hate this part about as much as the colour red right now. Red in small quantities is good but dowsing an entire bunker in it is asking a lot.

I use the conveniently placed 'Force Door Open' button to make the doors open and allow me to ascend up the ladder and reach the surface for the repairs.

The lift is linked to the internal power station, and the internal power station is fueled by the exterior power grid. So, the reason everything is seemingly broken must be a wiring malfunction, maybe the outer casing was worn out to the point of being fully exposed.

I saw that the fault was around panel 6. I look around it to see that the wire was cut in half.

When coming up I did not account for this.

I thought a frayed wire would be the cause of the storming, but a clean-cut like this is alarming.

I look down at my chest where I got sliced by that creature. "No... can't be."

I dart to the little shack I made of excess steel plates which has all the tools I should need for repairs.

After some cutting and electrical tape, I leave the power grid and head back to the lift with a sense of satisfaction.

At the lift something caught my eye, I notice footsteps in the plains, they were a distance away but I can still see them. but since it was a side profile, I only saw the indentations.

I draw my knife and close the distance. And as I approach the details to become clearer. Those imprints lead to a bigger gap.

Something passed out. If it were one of those hate demons, I could figure out an efficient way to kill them. My mind wandered on the possibilities.

I ducked down in the thick snow, it's thick since I never travel this way, it's been piling up for a decade or so.

As I raise my head over to see what lies. I fall back in surprise, I even shout.

It was a girl.

I regain my footing and check her over. Silver hair, not grey hair. She's about my age, maybe a year younger. She has appropriate attire for the world, and she has a bag with her.

I take her two knives into my pockets and carry her unconscious body back to the lift. She is fairly light, then again food shouldn't be eaten in mass like in the movies, gluttony isn't something you should shrug off.

I lay the unconscious female on the couch, I wrap blankets around her. She is still alive, when I carried her, her breathing was visible.

As she... rested... I rummaged through her bag for any idea who she could be. A Group ID card? Health card?

None.

She has some canned food, a couple of books, one of which I don't have. She has those knives I took so she couldn't spring awake in my loving arms and shive the shit out of me. A box with a lot of little packages in it, in the bathroom I saw some of these, don't know what they do though. I put it down under the juncture that since I don't know, and she does that I shouldn't. With hindsight being twenty-twenty this was the correct assessment.

The bag was about empty now, there were some mundane things that to me are useless. Aside from the canteen, which was very close to empty.

She could've been holding out on drinking for fear of running out and passed out by dehydration.

I check that she is still with me, which she is. I tilt her up, one arm supporting her back and head and the other holding her canteen. Slowly the water leaves the container and enters her mouth, I learned this through the movies and shows. Usually, they jump to life soon after, but she didn't.

Even with the blankets, she was still very cool to the touch, this became very concerning. I'd much rather not dig another grave, especially for a girl as cute as she.

But even if she feels cold, that's a lot better than feeling hot, which means a fever. And I'd prefer digging a grave than dealing with a fever.

But if she were hypothetically fevering, I'd help as much as I can.

I turn on the television and wait for her to wake up. I sit anxiously, only able to half focus on the show. With the lingering thought that she may never wake eating away at my soul, the only obvious option is to wait. To wait and let this play out.

The closest bunker has to be about eight kilometres away, either way, that seems quite far, given how long a walk it would be. With all the crap you would have to push through or fallen buildings you would have to navigate around.

She had a tough time getting here, I should really let her rest.

With that thought, of the exhaustion she must have felt. I could shift some of that worry to the show.

Even if something interesting was happening, I still shot glances at the sleeping girl's face. Note how I stopped saying unconscious and said sleeping, because wrapped in that blanket it really does look like she's sleeping.

I pour myself a glass of water, thinking about her I pour an extra glass just in case.

And as I bundle myself up, I continue watching without a sense of loneliness. As this other person was almost right beside me. Comforting in a sense, though the fact they've never seen me before is a bit disturbing an angle to take.

I pause the show as I get tired and head to bed.

What an eventful day.