Free Horizon (03) by Sophie Littlefield Page A

in the fireplace. The rule was that fires were only for the public space, both for conservation and safety. There was no way to put large fires out besides an old-fashioned bucket brigade, and everyone had seen city blocks consumed by fire during the worst times and remembered just how quickly it could reduce a building to nothing.
    But one of them must have gone around quietly spreading the word to the neighbors, because an hour after dark Red laid the twigs and some crumpled comic books under the dry kindling and soon he had a roaring fire going, one that reminded Sammi of long-ago nights before her dad left, when they’d end a day of skiing by picking up ribs from Mountain Smokehouse, and her mom would open a good bottle of wine and they’d all curl up in front of the fire. That fireplace had been beautiful. The stone was faux, but Sammi’s mom had had it installed all the way up the two-story wall, with the oil painting that she’d paid a fortune for hung above it and iron candleholders arranged on the mantel. Sammi always grumbled about having to stay home with them instead of going out with her friends, but she secretly loved these evenings, cuddled under a quilt watching the fire while her parents drank wine and laughed about ridiculous stuff on the couch.
    This fireplace was junk, a metal box with a brick hearth and a strip of molding for a mantel, on which Zihna had lined up pretty rocks she found while out walking. It didn’t draw well at all and the house quickly filled up with smoke, but Sage stared into the flames and drank the weak tea that Zihna gave her, the rest of them on the carpet, except for Red, who sat with his arm around Sage and she let him, soundless tears leaking slowly down her face while he mumbled words that only she could hear, dad words, and Sammi thought angrily that he was more of a father to Sage than her own father was to her.
    She wasn’t moving back in with him. He and Nathan came straight to the quarantine house as soon as they heard that Phillip had been locked up. Valerie must have told him, and Sammi was pissed at her, too. All she wanted was to be here where Sage needed her, though if she was honest about it Sage hadn’t given her and Kyra a second look since they all came back.
    Phillip was all alone in that dark little place. Sage knew he wasn’t sick but Sammi had seen his eyes. Sage said she would stay right outside the house so he could talk to her but maybe she forgot that, or maybe they made her leave, because not long after Sammi came back here, Old Mike and Earl brought her home. Later, when Red and Zihna went to bed, Sammi would ask Sage if she wanted to go back near Phillip, they could take sleeping bags, a tarp. It would be cold, though, unless they took the blankets from the beds.
    After the fire had burned down to glowing embers, and Sage had fallen asleep in the corner of the couch, Red got up and tucked the blankets carefully around her. To Sammi he whispered, “Let’s let her sleep here for now. If she gets up, she can come upstairs, but this way she’ll be nice and warm.”
    “I can sleep down here with her,” Sammi whispered back. “I don’t mind.”
    Zihna got her a stack of blankets and a pillow and then the two old people went to their room, leaning into each other, Red moving slowly because of his bum hip that always seemed to be worse late at night and in the morning. Sammi made herself a pallet, but she didn’t get in. She sat with her arms around her knees and watched the fire for a while as the last of the logs burned low and the embers snapped and popped. The heat felt wonderful, reaching into her bones in a way like nothing had warmed her lately. She was both sleepy and oddly awake, stealing glances at Sage, who had bunched the blankets under her chin like a child.
    “Sage,” she whispered, feeling guilty that they were comfortable here when Phillip was alone, and no doubt frightened. But Sage didn’t stir, didn’t so much as twitch in