Ruin - By N.M. Martinez Page 0,15

There isn't much more than crumbs on the plates this morning, but still I wipe at them with the rag while trying to ignore the way my stomach roils. There's no avoiding it. Henri will bring news of my mom.

After I've cleaned up the plates and cleaned up myself, there isn't anything else to do. The past couple of days I've been taking afternoon naps until Brandon gets home. But my stomach and that twitch in my leg that makes me bounce my knee when I sit won't let me settle. Brandon hasn't said anything more about it, but I know there's one thing I can probably do and in my heightened state of activity/awareness, it's probably not a bad idea.

Before I have a chance to think my way out of it, I'm at the front door and opening it cautiously. No one stands on the balcony, so I take a few steps out and leave the door open in case I need to rush back in.

The morning air is fresh and cool against my face. I give a slight shiver and rub at my arms as I look around. Down below, people hang around out front doing thing much of interest. Most are just talking and laughing. From three stories up it's hard to really absorb any minute or important details about them.

On the balcony across the way and one floor down, two people stand close in discussion. One looks to be a very large male who towers over the shorter and more delicate frame of a woman wearing clothes very much like I am. She leans away from him slightly, but there's hardly any distance between them. He lifts one large hand to her face and stands much closer to her. The girl only comes to his chest. She stands stiffly and doesn't look directly up at him.

I turn away and look out over the buildings, trying to put the scene from my head. One of the things they taught us in school is that there were more men than women experimented on. So as dangerous as it is to be here at all, being female and being here is even worse.

The buildings go far off into the distance. Most of them are tall buildings that reach high into the sky. They are in much better condition than the buildings I first saw when we drove in, though they are all dirty and stained. Some of them have green tints to them where mold or something is growing up the wall. Others have dark stains and spots where paint is starting to fade or chip off and reveal the plaster or wood underneath.

This was a city once. Not everyone who lived and worked here was a scientist. Some were just the support for the labs-- janitors, cooks, maintenance men and women. All of them regular people who happened to live on this side of the fence. It's something that I never gave thought to when I was learning about The Revolution and the Wildlands in school. Real people lived here with their families, raising children in a place they believed was safe.

I chew on my lip. How many died? There are buildings as far as I can see, and if they were even half way filled, I still can't imagine the number of people that would have once roamed with their families, greeting friends on their way to work. The buildings further out look as if they're sagging, starting to rot and fall apart from disuse.

Behind me a door squeaks open. I turn quickly, ready to dive back into Brandon's apartment, until the boy stepping out looks up at me. His eyes open wide at the sight of me, and then he smiles. Everything about his face seems open and honest and-- normal. Like any of the guys back home. He seems closer to my age than Brandon, but still I freeze in the face of his apparent kindness.

"Hi," he says as he shuts the door behind him. "I'm Mitchell. Is it okay if I join you?"

The door to Brandon's isn't far away. It still sits partially ajar, waiting for me to slip back through. But there's nothing for me to do in Brandon's apartment except to wait for Henri to show. I look at Mitchell and shrug even as my stomach twists. "Yeah. Sure."

He steps up to the railing with me and leans on it with his forearms so that his face it at least level with