Introduction
Did we really make it? Everything we went through wasn’t for nothing. The pain and suffering. The waiting and despair. That was the price of hope. Our last chance - and somehow, it had paid off. They really do still exist. The Fireflies.
Closing her eyes, Abby took a deep breath. Or at least, she tried to. Her lungs felt heavy, as though they were filled with water. The air caught in her throat, squeezing it tightly. Her battered body had stopped obeying her. The very same body that had once been her greatest weapon. Her armor, which she had worked so hard to build, training every muscle relentlessly for years. Now, it was nothing but a shadow - a useless reflection and a reminder of everything she had been through. She sat on a couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders, one that was supposed to keep her warm. But she couldn’t feel its warmth. Even an ordinary blanket was an unbearable weight on her now-fragile shoulders, pressing down on her even more.
- Abby, right?
The man’s voice pulled Abby’s thoughts back to reality. Though still dazed and barely able to make sense of her surroundings, Abby tried to piece everything together. She and Lev had actually managed to reach Santa Catalina Island, where they had been met on the shore by people. Not just people - the Fireflies. Abby hadn’t remembered how many of them there were, whether they had weapons, what they had said, what they had asked, or if they had asked anything at all. She didn’t know how she had found the strength to make it from the shore to their base, or how long the journey had taken. But now she was here. Sitting on a couch in one of their offices.
Slowly opening her tired eyes, Abby saw a cup being held out to her.
- Yes. Thank you.
Her voice was hoarse, unusually quiet. The corners of her lips lifted into the faintest of smiles, while her gaze remained fixed on the cup, steam rising from it.
- My name is Ryan, - the man introduced himself. - I’m the leader of the Fireflies. Or, more precisely, what’s left of them.
Abby nodded. She recognized Ryan’s voice. He was the one she’d spoken to over the radio in Santa Barbara. The leader of the Fireflies, she repeated silently, trying to comprehend the weight of those two words. Finally, her gaze shifted toward Ryan. He didn’t seem much older than her. Chestnut curls, dark eyes, no scars or freckles, Abby automatically noted, analyzing his appearance.
- I don’t remember seeing you in Salt Lake City.
Carefully, Abby took the cup from his hands. The hot ceramic should have burned her palms, but she felt nothing. Still staring at the rising steam, she couldn’t bring herself to take a sip.
- Because I wasn’t there. My division was based in Los Angeles. We were devastated by what happened at the hospital that day...
At the mere mention of that day, something tightened between her ribs. Abby tried to take another deep breath, but to no avail. Ryan silently watched her. His elbows rested on his knees, his body leaning forward and shortening the distance between them.
- And what happened to you? Why did your journey from Santa Barbara take so long?
We were captured. Abby’s left hand instinctively reached for the back of her head. Her short hair tickled her skin unpleasantly, making her body shudder. The Rattlers, flashed through her mind. And then came everything they had done to her.
- I thought we were going to die there, on that beach... But we were rescued.
- Rescued? By whom?
- A girl.
She cut the answer short. There wasn’t enough time in the world to tell him everything. And it would hurt. Too much.
- Is that your son?
Ryan nodded toward Lev.
Lev was resting in Abby’s lap. Exhausted, he had fallen asleep as soon as they had been brought to the base. Just like Abby, he had changed beyond recognition. Only the scars beneath his cheekbones remained unchanged. Adjusting the blanket covering him, Abby gently squeezed his shoulder. At her touch, the tense muscles in Lev’s body relaxed slightly.
I’m so glad he’s with me, she thought.That he’s okay.
- No. Not exactly. We’re not related. But... I don’t have anyone else but him, - she answered softly. - His name is Lev.
- Family isn’t always about blood. It’s about caring. Because in this life, the most important thing is having someone to care for.
Those words, coming from Ryan, didn’t sound like a meaningless cliché. His voice was filled with confidence and deep sincerity. Like the first rays of morning sunlight piercing through impenetrable darkness, he radiated a sense of calm that seemed to consume the space around him.
And Abby with it.
- Abby, - he broke the silence. - I can only imagine what you’ve been through. But know this - you can stay here for as long as you want. You don’t have to run anymore. You’re safe now. The Fireflies don’t abandon their own.
With every word Ryan spoke, the tightness in Abby’s chest began to loosen. The relentless anxiety that had already become an inseparable part of her began to lose its grip. Slowly inhaling, Abby felt the air gradually sink deeper, filling her lungs, her ribs rising - this time without pain. Why does this stranger have such an effect on me? No matter how hard Abby tried to understand it, to analyze everything, her body reacted faster than her mind. With a deep exhale, tears rolled down her cheeks. Bitter and hot, they touched her lips, which she pressed tightly together in an attempt to suppress a sob. Stop. Don’t be weak. She repeated the words silently, over and over, until suddenly she felt Ryan’s palm against her. Warm. Steady. Reliable. Just like the look in his eyes, as if it were saying: I’ll take care of you. I promise.
She no longer had the strength to hold herself together. To keep fighting. To protect herself and Lev. She had no choice left. She allowed herself to trust him. Because somewhere deep inside her, something had broken.
Something that could never be healed again.
