"I can't believe they left without me," murmured Finn from the room's filthy corner.

Hours had passed since the launch. The sun had long traveled beyond the skyline, no moons or stars could be seen; streams of rain ran down the windows, at least of those that still had a glass, letting everything behind them appear in a blur.

Finn and Lena had found shelter beneath the platform on which they had rested on earlier when the rocket was swallowed by the storm.

Wind entered through cramped holes in the walls, suffusing the room with an agonizing chill. 

Lena sat crisscrossed in a different corner, in the comfort of a nest made of books, of which she was reading one. She had a passion for stories, mainly because, from the true horrors of her life, it was the only distraction she obtained. 

The arms of Finn's sweatshirt left only the tips of her fingers in the cold, and it all covered at least a quarter of her legs.

Where they endured was the closest to a home Lena had. Here was where she slept during most nights, though she only owned a blanket, no bed, not even a mattress or pillow. No electricity, no personal items, no furniture, no objects whatsoever. Just a mucky blanket, which she now picked up from the wooden floor. 

She walked up to Finn, who was rubbing his arms to cause the molecules in his skin to move faster. He tried to keep his body temperature at a tolerable level during the blizzardy gale.

On one side, the building faced the city, and on the other, a desert lay as far and as wide as the eye could see. It was one of the oldest buildings, but for as long as she could remember, Lena had been the only one to set foot inside.

"Take it," she said and held the blanket to his face.

"I'm fine," Finn growled. 

She lowered her arm. "Do you want your sweatshirt back?"

"No."

"Finn, you're freezing. I can tell by your shaking."

Finn didn't look at her, but when she begged him to take the blanket, he did. He never expected to be left behind, but now that he was, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone for good. 

He thought it over and over, but he didn't see a way to look at the information on the external hard drive. He would have needed a working computer, and there was no way he could get back into the KSP building unrecognized. He felt cursed; finally, he owned the information he had wished for, only to be unable to read its content.

"This is a cruel joke," continued his mumbling.

"Could it be bait?" asked Lena, trying to help him make sense of it all. "Maybe they want you to go back to the KSP building."

"They are professional astronauts; they would never leave someone behind, not even for bait. They care about their team, my father most of all. He wouldn't leave, unless—"

Lena waited patiently, but Finn never finished his sentence.

"Unless what?"

Finn thought about the options of answers. The only reason his father would leave would be if he had stopped loving his only son.

"Nothing," replied Finn, sunk in emotions. "I can't make sense of it."

The rain boxed the metal sheets on the roof with even more force. 

Finn walked over to one of the windows. It was large, taller than him, and rounded at the top. With a black frame and a blanket of dust. The rain appeared to be falling horizontally due to the wind carrying it on its course through the alleys. Fog stood within the city like a prisoner.

"You shouldn't stand near the window," said the soft voice behind him, "someone might see you."

Still mute, he walked to the door of the room. It had a lock, but it was broken. The red color was slowly crumbling off its surface, revealing the door's brown nature. Finn slid down the back of the dry paint, bringing his knees up to his chest.

"How long will the rain last?"

"There is no way of knowing. Maybe it stops in a few hours, but sometimes it goes on for weeks."

"Weeks?" said Finn louder than intended. "Fortem will have reached Kepler by then."

"Who is Fortem?"

"It's our rocket's name. By the time the weather clears, the rocket will be too distant to return for my rescue."

"At least the storm missed our location. It could have hit us far worse." 

With her fingers, Lena curled a strand of her hair, thinking about words that might be comforting to hear.

The room lit up with light, and not one second later a loud thunderclap caused them both to jump and quiver. A large stone came bursting through the window glass and split it into a thousand pieces. 

Lena couldn't hold back a high-pitched shriek and covered her head with her hands as if it could protect her from flying rocks.

"Don't scream," said Finn, who was not one bit less scared than her, but conducted enough to hide it. "We don't want to attract any attention."

"Sorry." Lena curled up like a cat, with her back to Finn, who began to feel guilty.

"Just keep your body down, we'll be fine," was his way of apologizing.

Unseen by Finn, a shy smile settled on Lena's face. She hid it with his large sweatshirt.

For what remained of that night, it was the last conversation they had. After a while, they both fell asleep, Finn in one corner and Lena in the other.

"Finn," was the first thing he heard before opening his eyes. "Finn, wake up."

Finn blinked to adjust his eyes to the light. Without turning his body, he could hear the rain and knew the storm had not passed yet. 

Lena touched his shoulder, whereupon he slapped her hand away from his skin. His body shot up into a ninety-degree angle.

"It's dawn," said Lena, ignoring the fact that Finn had violently hit her hand.

"What?" His tired eyes scrutinized the room. It was more deserted than before; some books were missing.

Lena, kneeling next to Finn, wore the same hoodie she had worn when they first met in the dark, which opened the question if she had left the room while Finn slept soundly. She dropped a bag and described the food she had brought for him, which confirmed his speculation.

"Did you steal it?" asked Finn, still trying to wake up properly. How he could have slept so long, on a floor so firm, remained a mystery to him.

"No. I traded it with—a friend."

"A friend?"

"She was friends with my mother. We don't talk much, but she is the closest to a family I have."

"You shouldn't have left! It's too dangerous."

Lena took no notice of his concern. "I also brought you this." She showed him another gift: A green gas mask. "The air is fairly bad today."

"Did you trade this too?"

"No, it's—mine. It's better you wear it, for my lungs are strong enough to handle the air, while yours are not."

Finn rubbed his eye with one hand, while the other balanced against the wood to uphold his sore body.

"I have bad news," Lena revealed a piece of paper from behind her back and held it in the air. It was soaked, but not spoiled enough to conceal the print on it.

"Is that me?" asked Finn as he recognized the boy with white hair on the paper. Above his face was a small text requesting the citizens to turn him in for a reward. "Well?" 

The answer was too obvious to need verbalized confirmation, and Lena bothered not to say yes. 

"Alright—Were you followed?"

"No," answered Lena, her eyes watery.

"What is it?"

She slid another paper over for Finn to review. It had the same design as the previous sign, though a different face for the search.

The description was slightly altered, too. Deliver her dead, alive, or with undeniable proof of death, were the words in bold that stole the focus from the image with her face. Rewarded with a seven-day ration.

She fought to hold her tears but one fell on the paper anyway. "My life is worth no more than one week's ration of food! But apparently it's enough for the whole town to be looking for me!"

Finn stood up in earnest.

"Are there any other rockets on Pluviam?" Finn asked Lena.

"No, no rockets. But behind an old factory, a group of soldiers is camping out to preserve some flying vehicles. I'd say they are somewhat like a rocket, just too crowded to carry any more than two people."

"Two people you say? That's all we need!"

"We?"

"Yes, we." Finn picked up his sweatshirt, "We need to get you out of here."

"No one ever leaves Pluviam unauthorized."

"Everything started with a first time at some point, am I right? Today, we'll be first. For as long as the storm gives us cover, we stand a good chance of fleeing undetected."

"We stand a good chance of dying! Finn, no one who's sane would try to leave during weather like this. Just take a look out of the window, it's not smart."

"Exactly. No one will follow us."

"True, but—"

"Do you know where the factory is?" interrupted Finn.

"Yes, but—"

"Can you get us there without anyone noticing?"

"Probably, but—"

"Do you have a better plan?" asked Finn, expecting her to utter her objections.

"No, but—" Lena paused to let Finn interrupt her, but he did not, "do you even know how to fly such a vehicle?"

Finn put on his sweatshirt and picked up the gas mask. He looked straight ahead, his shoulders pulled back, his chest puffed and filled with confidence and courage.

"Nope, but I know someone who might."