Beyond Midnight

The oppressive summer heat of 2033 pressed down on the old middle school, now the makeshift compound Soleil called home. Dust motes danced in the sparse beams of light filtering through the grimy cafeteria windows, illuminating the grim reality of their survival.

"You sure you don't want any?" Soleil offered, nudging her tray of grits towards Elodie, who sat beside her, nervously picking at a loose thread on her worn dress.

Elodie shook her head, her fiery red hair catching the light as she mumbled, "Nah, I'm not hungry."

Soleil sighed, shoveling another spoonful of bland grits into her mouth. The air in the cafeteria was thick with the din of hundreds of voices, but to Soleil, it was just noise. She scanned the room, observing the separate tables for men, women, and children, another stark reminder of their rigidly defined roles. Women, endless streams of them, surrounded by countless children—the living proof of their purpose: repopulation.

Her eyes lingered on a young mother, surrounded by a gaggle of toddlers, a tight, almost desperate smile plastered on her face. Soleil wondered if the happiness was real, or just another performance. The thought curdled her appetite.

"Soleil."

The familiar southern drawl, sharp and precise, cut through the noise. Soleil didn't need to look up to know it was Momma, already sensing the impending lecture. She chewed slowly, deliberately, before turning.

Her mother stood there, hand on hip, eyes fixed not on Soleil, but on Elodie. Elodie, sensing the shift, cleared her throat awkwardly.

"I'm gonna go," Elodie mumbled, fleeing the table with surprising speed, leaving Soleil to face her mother alone. Momma slid into the vacated seat, an almost imperceptible smirk on her lips, a silent testament to her ability to make people vanish.