US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

5 - Group Effort

//always subject to change//

The other Five are old. They should be thirty or forty--an age at least ten years older than me--and yet we are nearly the same.

After my curiosity got the best of me, I wound up rushing over to my mother to retrieve some solid answers. Once some ridiculously effortless calculations were done, thanks to Zeriah's brain, I discovered I was twelve years old when Brink was captured, him being twenty. A year later, Stella was snatched up at age nineteen while I enjoyed my first year as an official teenager. When Damon found no sign of others on Earth, he travelled elsewhere and snatched Xena from her beloved boyfriend's hands in that same year. Not even a year following Xena's arrival came fourteen-year-old Zeriah, who was as compliant as ever when Brink swiped him from his home planet just two years ago.

Then came the gap. The four year gap that pushed Damon over the edge.

Then came me.

No wonder the Five never disclosed their ages to me. They probably didn't even know how to age themselves properly. Any of them. Their ages practically plateaued since they left, because in no way was Brink any older than twenty-three--if that--and Stella would be pushing it if she were the same. Their universal travels must also explain why Brink and Stella weren't as connected to anyone on Earth when the virus hit. They'd been away for so long; it hardly made them flinch to hear about all of the deaths.

One thing is for sure: there's no way in hell I can wrap my brain around the phenomenon of time and space.

"Honestly, I stopped keeping track of all that," Stella admits in the middle of our conversation. "When we'd leave one place and come back, and months had gone by when only days had passed on another planet, it got complicated. There was no way to tell what day it was or how much time had truly elapsed."

"Well, at least I was able to catch up. I can't imagine being five or ten years younger than you guys. I'd feel like a kid," I say.

Zeriah chuckles and pats me on the on back. "Welcome to my world, girl."

I roll my eyes at his comment. Hardly a kid, I think, He's got to only be a couple years beneath me.

A sudden chill trickles down my spine like someone had slipped an ice cube down it. I shutter and can't help but mention the temperature aloud. "How cold is it in here, do you know?" I ask The Five, gazing at Stella in particular.

Her vibrant green eyes vanish behind her lids briefly before they bloom open again. "It's forty-seven degrees fahrenheit, according to my reading."

Having a functioning suit does have benefits; it's a shame mine has gone to waste. I miss out on cardinal directions, time, dates, temperatures—things I hardly paid any attention to while at the HQ. Now that those minor luxuries are gone, among other things the suit provided, I feel disadvantaged. Weaker. Plus, I'm freezing.

"Tell me we're opening that thing soon," I say, referring to the large hatch keeping us from the outside world and me from a heat source. Not only is my warmth the issue, but we need to get a move on. Teaching the revolutionaries how to forage for food, fire, and shelter should be on the top of our list now. Survival first, destination second.

I will not let a single person in this ship die.

"We are. We will be opening it today," Stella confirms, and wraps her arms around me to transfer heat over. Automatically, I check Travis's face, which looks almost offended at her gesture.

"I got it, Stella," he says, and replaces her arms with his. I bite my lips and thank her telepathically.

"So, should we put together groups?" I ask. "You know...make one group in charge of fire, another food...and so on?"