His palms stung when they hit the cement floor. His father's sizeable black army boots ground into the floor near his head.
"Get up."
Rea pushed with both hands and made it to his knees. Pain beat at him where his father's fist had been. He forced back tears. His girlfriend was gone, his friend Eric left, and his mom was dead. He didn't want to get up. Why bother when his dad would knock him down again?
The blood in his mouth gathered over his tongue. He spat. A mixture of saliva and blood clung to his lips. The tip of his father's boot crushed his fingers. Rea gritted his teeth. He refused to cry or admit he was hurt. Rea was already a disappointment. He wouldn't add to it.
"Get up, lazy piece of crap." Rea didn't have time to move. His father's foot met his ribs. Air whooshed out of his lungs. "I told you to be at training at seven. You'll train with my old army squad, or I'll throw you into the snow." When his dad crouched next to him, his hot breath fanned Rea's neck. "I wish you'd died in the Oil Wars instead of your brothers. If your mother were alive, she'd say you were worthless."
His father's voice was cold and calculating on that last sentence. He said the words like they were a fact. Rea knew that the previous sentence was a lie. He had only ever told one person in his life that he had a unique ability. Rea knew when someone was lying. His father didn't know Rea's secret. That he could feel a lie in his gut, his mom would've been proud of him. Proud that he kept living every day when so much was gone. When the world was covered in ice, and so many people died, she'd asked him to keep going. He was trying.
Blood decorated the cement floor of his bedroom. Rea pushed again and finally came to a standing position. His father stood in front of him and smiled. His old man crossed his arms over his massive chest. The action pulled at the fabric of his army uniform.
"You're no fighter, Joseph-Rea MacBain, but you will be. By the way, today is a holiday. Happy Ice Year. I got you something."
Rea was more prepared this time. His father's huge, meaty fist came toward his face. This time, he ducked. Stumbling forward, Rea almost nose-dived into the table next to his door. His balance was still off. That is what happened when you got hit in the face multiple times. Quickly, Rea used his tongue to check if he still had all his teeth.
After he righted himself, Rea moved to the pathetic kitchen area of his room. He looked for the best place to run. His dad was in front of the door that exited into the underground base hallway. No escape there.
His father chuckled. "You look like someone punched your face."
Rea refrained from saying anything. There was no point. After his mother died, his father had gone crazy. He always was mean, but now he was truly out of his mind. His old army buddies couldn't see it, but Rea did. Maybe living underground is what had gotten to his father.
"I got a surprise for you."
All the muscles in Rea's body poised to dash away. Those words were normally not a good omen. The last time his dad said that he'd told him his girlfriend left. Rea pushed that heartbreak out of his mind. So what if she was gone? If she didn't care anymore, then neither did he. All he cared about was surviving his father until he could leave here too. Maybe she was smarter than he was. Nothing had stopped her from going. Not even him.
Rea's father turned away from him. A tiny bit of tension lifted from Rea's shoulders. His father's massive six-foot frame lumbered over to the door that led out into the base they had built together.
He threw open the wooden door. Standing there was a skinny kid that had to be a few years younger than Rea— maybe fifteen or sixteen.
As the boy stared, he trembled visibly and pushed his glasses up his nose. The action was like a nervous tic. He played with the buttons on his huge knee-length coat. His tan-colored hair matched the jacket exactly.
"This is Adam. Keep him out of my way. I've a meeting with the underground builders. I'll see you at seven tomorrow." Rea's father's harsh words accompanied him stomping to the door. The young boy paled as his eyes went wide. Rea made a mad dash toward the boy and stepped between his father and Adam. The kid, maybe out of a sense of self-preservation, stooped behind Rea. His father's hand struck Rea upside the head before he strode out of the room.
Rea's shoulders slumped with relief. The air around him was easier to breathe with his father gone. He rubbed his ear where his father had hit him. He didn't acknowledge Adam. Instead, Rea lifted his palms to look at the scratches on his hands.
"You should wash your hands and clean the cuts."
Rea looked up. The boy had taken a few steps into the room and pushed up the big black-rimmed glasses that were perched on his narrow nose.
"Whatever, Adam."
"My name's Gears. I don't go by Adam." The boy headed over to the sink. To Rea's amazement, he took off his coat. He threw the jacket over one of the chairs by the table. He was wearing another layer underneath. That second jacket came off next.
After the fabric layers were removed, Gears shook off a backpack that he'd hidden under them. The zipper on the first pouch was tugged down, and the kid produced a pink rag. He used the sink to wet the cloth before standing directly in front of Rea.
"My dad just called you Adam," Rea pointed out when he recovered from the way Gears seemed to have made himself at home.
"Yeah, but I go by Gears. That's what my dad used to call me." Tears welled up in the boy's eyes.
"You can call me Mac." Rea looked up at the ceiling, pretending like he didn't see the wealth of emotion.
Rea stood perfectly still when Gears grabbed one of his hands. The kid began swabbing at his palms. When his shock was under control, Rea tried to tug his hands away from the kid's grasp. The boy wasn't strong, but every time Rea got his hand away, Gears snatched his fingers back again. He wasn't a quitter. That was for sure. The choice here was to either hit the other boy or give in.
Rea gave in.
"It's okay. Don't look worried. I'm a doctor. I'll have you fixed up in no time," Gears kept dabbing at the scraps on his palms.
Rea couldn't help his smile. He raised an eyebrow and kept his hand out in front of him.
"A doctor, huh? Yeah, right. How old are you?"
Gears glared. "I'm fifteen, but I'm really smart."
"You couldn't be that smart if you ended up here."
"I'm here because my dad served with your father in the U.S. Army." Gears let go of his hand.
"There is no U.S. anymore. There is no army. All that is left is—" Rea abruptly stopped talking. Who cared? No one cared anymore that the U.S. lost to Canada when the Canadians were the only ones left with oil. The war had been short. Canada had taken over Alaska. After that, the U.S. fought to get it back. Everyone started to die when they couldn't last in the overwhelming cold. Canadians and Americans alike didn't make it. The ice didn't take sides.
Rea sighed. None of the Oil Wars mattered now. All that mattered was survival in a new ice era.
"I know that." Gears pushed up his glasses. "What I meant was before. When our parents were younger."
"Okay." Rea nodded. He wasn't sure what he should do with this kid, but Rea was a problem solver. He figured he should find him a place to sleep. Maybe he could put him in one of the areas of the base that wouldn't cave in. Underground living was challenging in that regard. That was a good idea. Rea would also warn Gears to stay out of his dad's way. He would have to make sure Gears was safe until he got the hang of living on the base. Rea supposed he could keep an eye on the doc until he found a new place to live. Everyone he met moved on. This boy would be no different. He would help him out until he was ready to find a new home.
"My parents are dead. My mom was killed in an avalanche, and my dad died in the Oil Wars."
Rea stared. He hadn't asked, but Gears seemed hell-bent on sharing with him.
"A lot of people died," Rea responded. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Rea never was good at dealing with people's feelings. Most of the time, the right words eluded him.
Gears frowned. He placed his backpack on Rea's bed on the other side of the room. He began rummaging in the pockets. He then went over to Rea's fridge and got out ice.
"You're probably in a bad mood because you don't feel well. I know I'm not in the mood to talk when I'm feeling under the weather." Gears handed him the ice and gestured toward Rea's face. Rea took a deep breath and didn't even try to hide his amusement. He slapped the ice to his fat lip. Who even said under the weather anymore?
"I came here after the UN asked for a treaty between Canada and the U.S.," Gears tossed that out as he walked back to his backpack. "I told your dad I could make clean drinking water for the base. I'm going to do that."
"Okay."
Gears didn't look at him. Rea figured he missed the crystal-clear look of confusion. How did someone make water? What was wrong with the water they had? Was it not clean? Rea guessed that if he asked Gears they would be here all night.
Rea shrugged. It wouldn't be so bad to have Gears around all evening explaining. He could keep him company for a short while. Rea was alone most of the time. A few hours of someone to talk to would be fine with him.
Gears pulled out what looked like small brown bandages. Rea studied the tiny adhesive rectangles. He hadn't seen those since he was a child.
After the meteor had hit Earth, medical supplies had become scarce. Only a few brave men were willing to scour the surface for items to retrieve out of the ice. After his father and an underground construction company had begun to build this base, that was the last time he'd seen anything as simple as a Band-Aid. His mother used to give him a Band-Aid when he was little.
Gears took out a round bottle of rubbing alcohol.
"I don't need that." Rea had the urge to back away, but he wasn't a coward. He could handle one nerdy boy playing doctor. Besides, it had been a long time since anyone had tried to help him. The last person who'd helped him had left when he needed her most.
Forget her. He was stronger now. Strong enough to be by himself.
"Yes, you do. If this gets infected, it will get yucky." Gears poured the clear liquid on a cotton ball. He took Rea's ice pack out of his hand.
"Yucky? Is that a fancy medical term, Doctor?"
"Yes, it is." Gears laughed. "And I'm not only a doctor. I'm a scientist too. I'm really smart."
When Gears wiped his hand, Rea bit his tongue from the sting. Even with his eyes watering from the pain, Gears made him smile.
"I'm going to make sure all the men and women have clean drinking water, and I'm going to care for people," Gears spoke to Rea's hands while he cleaned them. "My dad told me once that one day we'd need someone like me. I'm always helping. I know a lot of things."
Rea wanted to say that he doubted very much if this guy knew anything, but he didn't. He listened. This boy needed someone. Gears was younger than him, and his parents had died. The boy needed him. Rea wasn't going to admit he needed a friend as well.
Tomorrow, he would get him settled on the base and keep an eye on him until he left. It was the right thing to do. His mom would be proud of him for that.