Page 3 of Bait (After the End #2)

“Oh, the usual male nonsense, Leo.” He barked out a laugh and shook his head. Then offered me a fond look, which should’ve reminded me of my father. But my father had never been very fatherly. “I’m going to the kitchens.” He nodded at that and reluctantly pushed the button.

Leonel was likely in his fifties, which was quite old in the bunker.

He was a first-generation dweller and probably knew more about the history of this place than anyone.

Leo not only operated the elevators but maintained them.

I knew he’d had a wife, but she’d passed when I was still little.

His son Xavier was on the council guard. He was Becker’s man.

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head at my question, but I could see that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Just this machine getting fussy again.” He tapped the metal door of the elevator fondly, as if he was petting a skittish animal. “Now that Torch isn’t here to work his magic—” He stopped short when he realized what he’d said. Immediately his expression turned apologetic.

Torch was a bit of a sensitive topic. He’d been my brother’s best friend and personal guard.

But his career had not started as an upper-level guard.

Like his father, Torch was a born tradesman.

Trained to be a mechanic, until his friendship with the son of the Corvados lifted him out.

Like Leo, Torch was first gen, came to the bunker as a child with his father.

I’d always had complicated feelings about Torch.

He was older and not particularly nice to me, but I’d felt drawn to him.

At first, I thought it was just curiosity.

He was so brooding and serious, while my brother was gregarious and playful.

But my interest in him never seemed to subside.

Maybe it was my gut telling me to be careful around him.

I didn’t want to think about his betrayal.

But it invaded my mind anyway, and instantly I was gripped by the horror of that night.

It had been two months after my brother disappeared.

I was distraught and alone. Grieving for the last family I’d had.

Torch, who had promised my brother to protect me if anything ever happened to him, had barely spoken to me since the funeral.

When he finally did come to me, it was in the middle of the night, and he was raving mad.

I woke up to him trying to pull me out of my bed.

His breath rank with the smell of lower-level barley liquor.

I pushed him away, demanded he get out, but he would not see reason.

He tugged me hard by the arm. He kept screaming in my face as I fought him.

Thinking back, I could see that I was angry at Torch.

I felt abandoned by him. When I’d needed him most, he’d deserted me.

So I ignored his pleas that I listen to him.

When he wouldn’t leave, I pushed the alarm button, and the guards took him away.

I never saw him again, and I was too much of a coward to investigate what happened to him.

“I’m sorry, Mija.” Leo whispered as we reached the first floor with a loud clang.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” Leo had seen us all be born and grow. One of the few dwellers who had access to all the levels.

“Do you ever think of the surface, Leo?” I asked before I could stop myself.

I was out of the elevator now, with the little cart by my side.

It was a bit of a faux pas to ask the OGs about life before.

As kids it was drilled into us that remembering their past lives could trigger the dreaded cabin fever syndrome from which people could not recover.

I’d never been particularly curious about life pre-Burst, but suddenly I needed to know.

Leo sighed and lifted his shoulder in a melancholy expression.

“My Samira and I were barely twenty-three when we came down here. I’ll be fifty-four in a few weeks.

” He looked up at the grated ceiling and flinched as if he was surprised not to find the sky there.

“It’s a long time to not see the sun.” I nodded, as if I understood exactly what he meant, but the closest I’d gotten to the sun was my mandatory four hours a week of light therapy.

“You know what I miss?” he finally asked in a conspiratorial voice. “I miss drying in the sun.”

“Like after a shower?” I asked, trying to picture it. I’d never seen an outdoor shower in any of the pre-Burst movies we had. He laughed and shook his head.

“After swimming in a lake or the ocean,” he explained, with a whimsical smile on his face. “Running out and just lying on the grass or the sand until you dried out.”

“That sounds nice.” I looked around the corridor with its concrete walls and concrete ceilings.

The drab overhead lighting that flickered constantly and suppressed a sigh.

I imagined myself doing it, coming out of my small shower stall after my once-a-week three-minute shower and just standing in my room to dry.

It didn’t seem very appealing. We had a pool—which I used regularly—but it was underground and even the park with the gigantic solar lights didn’t quite warm you up.

Now that I thought about it, I’d rarely ever been hot.

The climate was controlled by ventilators and heaters.

We were deep down in the ground, and it was naturally chilly, so heaters kept things mild.

Even on the occasion they stopped working, temperatures rarely became uncomfortable.

“Thanks for sharing that, Leo.” I waved goodbye before the elevators doors closed, and I walked down the corridor to the kitchen, without knowing that was the last time I’d ever see Leonel.