Smoke and Mirrors Read online

  Smoke

  And

  Mirrors

  S.R.

  Copyright © 2018 by Savanna Roberts. All rights reserved

  Cover Illustration by Nina Elise.

  This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

  Printed in the United States of America

  To Dad and Mom,

  for instilling in me that adventure is an inevitable part of life,

  as well as my love of freshly fallen snow

  Smoke

  And

  Mirrors

  S.R.

  Treaty of Newburgh

  We, the signers of this declaration, solemnly vow to take over the United States of America as a ruling Council and to rebuild America to its former glory.

  We vow to fix the economy and repair all the physical destruction that occurred during the war.

  We vow to treat the American people with respect and dignity, offering them every fair and just right they deserve. We also acknowledge that they are human, and in chaos, humanity reacts with violence and fear; in which case, the American peoples’ actions during the war shall be pardoned.

  We vow to continue to give them freedom of religion, but the State Religion shall be that of Buddhism.

  We vow to teach all generations of the lessons learned during the war and subsequent Second Great Depression.

  We vow to allow freedom of speech.

  We vow to continue to make advances in the sciences and technologies.

  We vow to not erase the American culture, but instead fuse it with the Chinese culture.

  We vow to rule as a true Council body, discussing amongst ourselves any problems that arise regardless of which district it is in, and to solve the problem as a body and not on our own.

  We vow to never raise a hand against another Council member, nor try to take over another district.

  We vow to stay true to the Buddhist teachings that we have learned, mastered, and believe in.

  We vow to apply our principles to leading America out of its darkness and into a new era.

  We acknowledge that we will be referred to as the Chang Council.

  We acknowledge that America will be split up into twelve separate financial districts with twelve main cities becoming the capitals of those districts.

  We acknowledge that America will continue to remain one country under the one Council.

  We acknowledge that we are under China, and that the Jun are under us, in authority.

  We acknowledge that a military peacekeeping force shall be stationed in the outlying countryside in order to reduce violence and crime, and to oversee the rebuilding of the nation outside of the Financial Centers. This force shall be known as the Jun.

  We acknowledge that the President of the United States of America has officially agreed to this for the bettering of the country and has signed a separate document allowing us to reside over America in his and the American government’s place.

  Signed on this day, April 13, 2090,

  Shi-Shun Lei-Min Yan Zedong Da-Guo

  Hui-Li Jianhong Ning Qiang-Fu

  Jia-Che Ru Bai-An Tao-Qing

  One

  Deric

  Snow is probably the only reason my family remembers to look for happiness. Our hardest times always seem to be in the winter; but in our darkest moments, snow always seems to arrive. Tensions and hurts can be instantly forgotten. Previous wrongs can be righted. The past doesn’t matter, since the future looks brighter, covered in a blanket of untouched snow. As one, my family inhales the cold, frigid air…and they breathe.

  In my opinion, snow is the only good our world has left.

  ◆◆◆

  Christina’s coughing again. I can hear it all the way in my room, the noise jerking me out of my sleep. An old mattress creaks as someone – probably Calvin – gets up to go check on her. I get up too, my stomach clenching as I wonder if we have any medicine left.

  I slide the ratty curtains back, blinking in the dim light. Calvin’s silhouette rummages through the bookshelf we use as a makeshift pantry, searching for cough drops or a bottle of pills. A couple of flashlights hanging from wires from the ceiling are out, making the room dimmer than usual.

  Calvin seems to find what he needs. He carries a small bottle into one of the two closed off offices, Christina’s room, and shuts the door behind him.

  I wait up, wanting to make sure Christina’s okay. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, wondering what’s taking Calvin so long, wishing I could be checking on Christina instead, and also thinking about why the floor has to be so dang cold all the time.

  The bedroom door scrapes open and out comes Calvin, whispering a goodnight. He shuts the door and turns around; if he was startled by me, his placid expression doesn’t show it.

  “Is she…?” I begin.

  “Asleep now,” Calvin finishes. “But we’re out of cough drops. And Abrei.” He bends down to the floor to place the empty pill bottle in the trashcan silently, so as not to wake the others.

  “I’ll have Miriam stop by the market tomorrow.” My reply is quick, automatic. Christina’s health is one of my top priorities.

  Calvin merely nods and retires back to his sectioned off corner of the warehouse room, shutting his curtain for privacy. His mattress creaks again as he settles on it.

  I run my fingers through my hair, creating a mental list for Miriam for the next morning: Get flashlight batteries, buy water, get cough drops and Abrei for Christina, see if there are any bargain mattresses…

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement near Rhianna’s curtains. “Penn!” I hiss, turning. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Penn turns to look at me, a grin spreading across his face. “Sleep walking?”

  I resist the urge to go over and smack him. “Stop watching her and get in your room.”

  Penn’s sly grin only grows bigger as he heads for his room. “She sleeps real cute, you know.” He winks and then closes his curtain.

  I scowl and cross my arms, waiting till his mattress creaks too so I can be sure he’s in bed. When it does, I walk over and close Ree’s curtain firmly. Whether she sleeps cute or not is none of Penn’s business.

  I finally return to my part of the room, sliding the curtain back into place to section my space off. I lie down but stay awake, listening for anymore disturbances to take place. All remains silent, minus Calvin’s gentle snores.

  I roll over on my side and close my eyes, sighing. Tomorrow will be another busy day.

  ◆◆◆

  I wake up to the sound of humming. I withhold a groan and get up. A few years ago, I would’ve laid there, thinking it was Mom and that everything was as it should be. She would be up making unleavened bread, her specialty since we couldn’t afford yeast. She’d have a glass of milk waiting for me on the counter, right next to the book I had been reading the night before. But I’m too old for fairy tales now – my exhaustion reminds me of that. I push my curtain back, the rings scraping on the rusted rod holding it up.

  Christina is up and putting plates on our makeshift table – two old office desks pushed together in the center of the room. Her long blonde hair is bunched back in a thick braid, and her glasses have slid down her nose as she works. She’s beautiful, but she’s not supposed to be awake this early. Not with h
er health.

  “What are you doing?” I keep my voice low since none of the others are up.

  Christina turns to me, her oversized green sweater swishing with her, swallowing her thin figure. Her face is pale, but a smile dons her pale lips as she pushes her glasses back up her nose. “Getting your breakfast. Don’t look at me like that.” She turns back around and sets down the last chipped plate. “There we go.” She tosses her braid back over her shoulder and beams at her work.

  I want to appreciate it, I do, but I know better. “You don’t have to keep this up, Trina. You didn’t bother us last night, really; only Calvin and I were up.”

  Christina ignores me, humming again, and waltzes to the pantry. A smile touches the corners of my lips as she dances, but then I shake my head. Firm. Be firm. I cross my arms. “Christina, it’s too early for you to be up. Go back to bed.”

  She whirls around suddenly, so fast that I’m surprised she’s not dizzy, a mockingly serious expression on her face.

  “Deric Johnson, if you’ve nothing nice to say then don’t say anything at all. I’m making your breakfast. You go get ready for work.”

  And just like that, the matter is closed.

  I know better than to argue with her when she gets like this; she starts playfully teasing me and I lose either way. It’s best to retain a fraction of my pride than none at all.

  I go and close my curtain back to change into my work clothes, heart clenching in my chest when Christina tries to stifle one of her dry coughing fits that turns into wheezing. She has good days and bad days, and all too often, she makes herself worse by trying to be up and about on her good ones.

  I pull on jeans and two sweatshirts, then try not to wince as my feet ache in protest at being crammed into too-small work boots. Christina keeps saying we need to get me new ones, but I refuse; the money goes to necessities, not new clothing for me.

  “Cinnamon toast!” Penn’s cheer is certainly loud enough to wake the others. “Trina, have I told you how positively lovely you look today?”

  “Shut up,” Calvin grunts.

  “You shut up,” Penn retorts. I grumble under my breath. Already causing trouble.

  I lace up my boots and head back into our main room. The toast is set out on the plates, and Christina’s working on homemade orange juice. Penn eyes the toast, fairly drooling at the treat – we can’t afford cinnamon often. Calvin stands off the side, looking blankly at the floor, his blue eyes dim. The heat from the outdated fire pit warms the air, though Christina has a window cracked nearby to let out the smoke.

  I glance up at the holographic clock flickering on the wall above the table; Miriam had found it a couple weeks ago in an abandoned house and thought it would help me get to work on time. It’s definitely easier than trying to judge the time based on the sky.

  6:45. I’m due at work soon.

  The sound of a slamming door makes me start, and Miriam enters the room. Christina smiles and wishes her a good morning, Calvin doesn’t even see her, and Penn totally ignores her since his eyes are still on the food. I look her over and already see it’s going to be a hard day. Dark circles hover under Miriam’s dull green eyes; I should’ve known she wouldn’t have slept with all the noise last night.

  She looks me over too and then gives a nod. “I need to head out,” she says to no one in particular.

  “Oh, please stay and eat. It won’t take too long,” Christina says. Miriam pulls her shoulders back, stiffening. I can sense her thinking of all the ways to avoid breakfast and just get away from the noise. But to my surprise, Miriam blows out a breath and nods.

  Christina beams and brings the plastic cups of juice over to the table. They’re not even halfway full, but I know she had to make do with what we have. Penn drops into his chair, reaching for a piece of toast. “Let’s eat.”

  Christina comes to stand beside me, touching my arm. “We’re missing Rhianna.”

  I hold Christina’s chair out for her and move to do the same with Miriam, but she flops in her chair before I can reach her and smirks at me. I smirk back, then walk to Rhianna’s corner of the room and knock on the wall nearest her curtain.

  “Ree-Ree?”

  “Ten more minutes.”

  I shake my head. “Ree, it’s time to get up.”

  “I’m good.”

  I chuckle. “We have cinnamon toast.”

  The mattress creaks loudly, the curtain flinging back. Rhianna stands there, wide awake, balancing on one foot as she tries to pull a tattered woolen sock over the other. Her black hair is a mess of curls. “Cinnamon toast?”

  I smile at her, though my heart pangs in my chest. You deserve better.

  “Yes, there is. C’mon before Penn eats it all.”

  Rhianna scoots around me, pulling her hair back in a long, tangled ponytail as she heads to the table. She takes her seat by Penn, and I sit down beside of her.

  Once all of us are in our places, breakfast begins. Penn gobbles his toast as fast as he possibly can. Calvin remains solemn and quiet, as usual. Christina’s tired but doing her best to hide it while she listens and laughs at Rhianna’s eager chatter. Down at the very end, Miriam stays silent and nibbles on the edges of her toast while I explain to her what she needs to look for at the market today.

  I take a deep breath when I finish, surveying the others once more, trying to feel happy. They deserve better. All of them deserve better than this. They shouldn’t have to get excited about the idea of cinnamon toast for breakfast.

  Miriam slaps her empty cup on the table and scoots her chair back. “I’ve got to go.” She marches out, swinging two backpacks off the hook by the door.

  “Remember what to get. The money’s in the front poc-” I begin, but she’s already gone. “Pocket,” I finish and shrug. I drain the juice from my cup and stand. “I need to go too. Christina, you need to rest. Rhianna and Penn, work on the dishes and try not to be so loud. I’ll be back around four forty. Calvin?”

  I pause, looking him over. He hasn’t touched his food.

  “I’ll clean and keep an eye on Christina,” he murmurs, picking up his cup and swirling the juice around.

  I want to say more, but I’m on the verge of being late as it is. I carry my plate and cup to the buckets we use as wash and rinse tubs and carefully place them inside. Christina’s grabbed my coat and is waiting for me by the door. I cross over to her and slip the coat on.

  “Don’t be gone too late,” Christina whispers.

  I offer her a smile and gently push her glasses up on her nose. “I’ll try not to. Get some good sleep for me.”

  Christina smiles wearily and nods. “I’ll do my best.”

  I open the door to leave but then stop and grab Christina’s arm. “Trina,” I murmur, “thanks for breakfast.”

  The smile that lights up her face is all I need to get through the day.

  Two

  Miriam

  I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, watching my breath fog in the air. The overbearing silence of the city is comforting to me. It’s something Christina and Deric hate, but I find beauty in it. I can think. I can breathe. I don’t feel so crowded.

  And goodness knows I need a moment of silence since I live with Penn’s big mouth.

  I shiver, and chill bumps erupt over my skin, so I tug my jacket tighter around me. I’m sitting at the top of an old fire escape, dangling my legs off the edge. The side of the building I’m on is mostly still intact; the other side, however, has collapsed. Nobody in their right mind comes over to this part of the city. It’s too old; too dirty. Some even say it’s haunted, or a constant omen of bad luck.

  I smirk at the thought. Everyone gets goosebumps because this is where the old war originated – some sniper took out a government official because he was on his way to New York City with some of the only remaining cash in the states. Chaos broke loose, and the Chinese took advantage of the situation, sweeping in to restore order. Even still, it was four years before the fighting stopped, and
everything was different. China called for the repayment of their long-overdue loans, then took control when America was forced to default. And just like that, everything changed.

  I stand up, the fire escape creaking under my feet, and climb down the rickety ladder, before dropping the rest of the way to the ground. The dead grass crunches as I walk along, heading deeper into the “haunted” part of the city.

  Graffiti decorates the crumbling brick buildings; spray paint cans, old rags, moldy plastic containers, and ratty clothing litters the weeds. The air isn’t as thick here, being farther away from the enormous smoke columns of the Jun headquarters in Downing Park. I inhale and exhale again. The sun shines brightly overhead, cutting through the light haze of smoke, but to the west there are thick, fluffy gray clouds heading our way.

  Snow clouds.

  I almost cross my fingers like a little girl and wish for it to come. I need a good blizzard.

  I walk farther along the road and finally veer off down a side street. The houses here are more intact than the others and expensive looking – Victorian, I think they used to be called; I have a feeling I’ll have good luck with them. I walk to the left side of Ann Street and up the cracked concrete walkway to one of the houses. The front door’s paint is peeling, the wood rotted. I feel little remorse as I kick the door down. It breaks and splinters to the dusty floor, the wind blowing in from behind me and sweeping through the house.

  Sunlight streams through the open doorway, marking my shadow in the dust. This used to be a nice home. All the furniture in the living room is gone, but I hope other parts of the house haven’t been touched.