Mara shivered as she stared out into the dark warehouse from the illuminated island at its center. The thin mats they sat on in their makeshift classroom provided little insulation from the cement floor cooled by the fall evening. While it wasn’t actually cold outside, everything about the dark, drafty open space seemed to draw heat from her. She pulled her hair over her ears and twisted her cable-knit sweater so it sat closer to her body.
Ping startled her when he stepped out of the shadows carrying a small square space heater. “It won’t do much good to turn on the main heat,” he said, pointing to the silver ductwork crisscrossing the ceiling above. “By the time the heat made it down to us, we’d be gone. This should help make things a little more comfortable.”
“Where’s Sam?” Mara said.
