Tempest [ON HOLD]

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Two days had gone by since the announcement that war had been declared. For two days, the great city of New York was silent. The streets lay deserted; not a pedestrian or taxi in sight. Neon signs flashed eerily as an audible winter wind sliced its way through the bare, shivering trees. Blinds and curtains were pulled shut as though shutting out the world would make the looming war disappear. New York City citizens stayed glued to their television screens, unsure of what would happen next.

On the morning of February 3rd, news anchor Christie Laurent delivered the news that sent shock waves not only through New York City, but through other independent North American cities as well:

"It's a historic day in the city of New York as government officials have ultimately decided to issue a military draft for the first time in New York history. All able-bodied men are required to enlist immediately. Female volunteers are welcome, but not mandatory. Failure to enlist will result in incarceration-"

I clicked the television off. Maya and Tom sat next to me on the couch, the three of us stone-faced. For a while, none of us spoke. We all knew what would happen; Tom would have to enlist in the military. The sense of family I had begun to feel again was being violently ripped away from me. Glancing at Tom out of the corner of my eye, I placed my hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked at me and gave me a sad smile, squeezing my hand in return.

Maya stood abruptly, walking swiftly to her room. The door slammed shut.

Tom sighed. "I should go comfort her." 

He stood and turned to me. "She and I need some alone time. Would you mind giving us a few hours?"

I nodded in agreement. Tom's last sense of family was being ripped away from him too. I grabbed my coat and my keys. As I exited the apartment, the sound of Maya's anguished wailing filled the hall. I cringed as I felt a pang of sadness rip through my body. Stepping into the elevator, I found myself face-to-face with none other than Ling, the intriguing Asian girl who'd saved my I.D. Like the last time, she was dressed in boys clothes; a large flannel shirt over a black t-shirt with loose jeans.

She took one look at my face and said, "Come with me." 

I shook my head, not wanting to follow this girl anywhere, yet wanting to at the same time. 

"You look like you need a friend." Ling said, "Come on, we'll go to my apartment." 

Not having the energy to argue, I followed Ling down to her floor, silently praying that she was not a serial axe murderer.  

When we reached the interior of her studio apartment, I stood awkwardly by the door. 

"Sit." Ling said simply, "I'll make us some tea."

I looked around the room. Everything was neatly arrayed, although it resembled the hideout of a teenage boy. Pushed against the window wall was a bed, covered in a black and white checkered comforter. The walls were aquamarine with a white accent wall, mostly covered in photographs and posters. A small wooden table with two chairs sat against the kitchenette. A bathroom lay around the corner.

Ling returned with two steaming mugs of what looked like milky coffee. She motioned for me to join her at the table.

"Have you ever had milk tea before?" she asked in her slight accent. 

"No?" I replied uncertainly. 

Ling handed me a mug. I eyed it suspiciously. 

"Try it." She urged, taking a large gulp of her own.