Mission Cure

CHAPTER THREE - M:FAC/1 - DREARY

DREARY

By eleven o'clock, after they'd watched a movie on Dreary's device, Jace was practically passed out. He was usually in bed by nine, unless she convinced him to stay up late with her, which was a rare occasion since he got pretty crabby at the stroke of ten. More often, Jace would head off to his own Chamber, leaving Dreary to entertain herself with books or solitaire in the confines of her room.

Every family had a Chamber which was modeled after a small, ranch-style house. And inside those Chambers were one living space, a bathroom, a couple of bedrooms, and a small kitchenette. Some were larger, like the one Roslava and Adrian occupied with their family of five (soon to be six). And some were smaller, like the one that belonged to Jace.

As soon as he bid her goodnight, Dreary wandered to the kitchen, not actually hungry but bored. She rifled through the cupboards for something to catch her attention and came away with a bag of cashews.

"Where did you come from?" she asked out loud. Nuts were not something the Fleet produced. They took too much space and time for something that yielded little nutrition. But there were stores of them somewhere, and every once in a while, a bag turned up. Dreary decided to keep the entire three pounds for herself and headed to her Chamber.

When she got there, Charlie was pacing in the living room, staring at his phone.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo," he answered without looking up.

"Did you find General Rhodes?"

That got his attention. His head jerked up quickly as he asked, "What do you mean?"

Dreary rolled her eyes. "Did you actually think Jace wouldn't tell me?"

He sighed and ruffled his hair. "Honestly, no."

"So, did you find him?"

Charlie shook his head, admitting, "Not yet."

"Did you search the lower deck to see if he was down there somewhere?"

Charlie nodded, grimly.

"What if he's hurt somewhere? What if he's stuck in his Chamber, unconscious..." Dreary's mind filled with gory images of the General. Charred and smoldering after being electrocuted to death trying to fix the power... Laying in a puddle of blood, his legs severed by a closed door, one hand reaching feebly for his phone... The list went on and on as her imagination carried her away.

"Sweetie."

Dreary felt a warm hand on her shoulder and focused in on her father's concerned face.

"This is exactly why I didn't want you knowing," he explained. "There are a hundred reasonable explanations for Rhodes not answering his calls, okay? We're going to figure this out. I don't want you worrying - that's what parents are for." He smiled.

"Alright," she said, giving him the answer he expected.

"What do you have there?" he pointed at the silver bag she was hugging to her chest.

With an impish smile, she showed him the label.

"Cashews!?" These were Charlie's absolute favorite snack in the entire universe. "Where did you find them?"

She shrugged like it was no big deal, even though it was. "In one of the pantries."

"You're sharing."

Dreary turned and riffled through a cupboard until she found a container that would hold half of the cashews. She poured his portion into the bowl and handed it to her father. He thanked her with a kiss on the forehead and warned her not to wake the boys as she headed to her room and closed the door.