The coffee swirled in the cup as she circled the spoon, using a little of her sugar allowance to take the bitter edge off. Her eyes flicked up out of the window and she saw her father rush up to the door, running through the heavy rain. Mina rushed to the door and pulled it open and quickly closed it once he was inside. “Rain was never this bad” He said shaking himself as he pulled off the navy blue uniform of the System.

“So you always say” Mina replied, dead bolting the door once again. She walked back to the tiny apartment kitchen that was also her front room, with an uncomfortable padded bench of a settee in the centre. Her father sat down and she handed him the coffee. 

“Thanks, love” He said as he took a sip. Mina sat down beside him with a cup of water and she took a sip. “Aren’t you having one?” He asked her. Mina shook her head, but before she could speak and say why, her father cut her off. “Your rations gone again?”

“In this cold weather it helps those in the infirmary” She said simply.

“Mina… You must stop giving away your rations” Her father said with a sigh, shaking his head as he reached into his pocket.

“No… it’s fine” She said, stopping him from handing over his tokens. “Besides, if everything goes to plan, I won’t need anymore. Just feel bad for my patients” Mina concluded.

“You’ve trained Evan up well, he’ll do fine. Besides, it is about time you stopped worrying about everyone else, and concentrate on you” Her father said, rubbing her on her shoulder. Mina smiled at him and nudged his shoulder with her head before she sat up and sipped from the slightly warm water. “Anyway… I have the list of people” he said, changing the subject.

“Oh yeah?” Mina asked, turning back to him and taking the paper off him and reading down the list. Now, Mina knew everyone in Barrowside. Being the senior medic, it was her job to know everyone. She had records of everyone, having to do routine medicals on them to ensure they were healthy and not infected. It was an interesting list for sure, and there were certainly some personalities on there. Her name lingered on one name a little longer than necessary, Cristi Caravaggio. But she nodded and folded the list up before tossing it into the fire burner, having memorised it and needing all evidence gone.

“They’re all going to meet at the Social tonight” He informed, draining his coffee and getting to his feet. 

“Oh yes, third Friday” The blonde said. Every third Friday the Social room stocked up on alcohol (fermented fruits with sugar and whatever else tossed in, her father likened it to old mead) and the Social would be the one place they could talk without being over heard.

“Make sure you’re there for free time” Her father said, kissing her on her forehead. “I’ll catch you in the morning” He added, pulling on his jacket before rushing back out into the rain.

Mina turned back around and looked at the small apartment that had been her home since she was 17. It was small with two rooms, but it was hers. There was the living room and kitchen that contained the bare minimum. There was a bookshelf filled with literature and her medical books. The walls were the same pale green as every other building, with the same worn cream flooring. The settee was hand made in the work sector, brown in colour and filled with aged stuffing. There was a wood burner connected to the chimney tunnel for heating, which was currently crackling with life. The kitchen was uniform white, and gaudy in her opinion. There was a heated metal plate over the fire below and where she did most of her cooking. There was a cupboard filled with mismatching plates and cups and bowls, and where all her packaged food and canned goods were stored. She had been saving up for a while, storing all her food to take with them. The other room was her bedroom, the wooden bed with stuffed mattress, and the cupboard filled with clothes. And that was about it. She shared the communal bathroom with two other apartments, and they had a tight schedule to run by. But the level 2’s had it a lot better than the dorms of 4 and 5. A large block with ten bedrooms, and bunk beds in each room; no privacy. There was a communal bathroom with showers and a communal kitchen and diner. Barrowside was not a pleasant place to live. Everything was run to order and routine, and there was little freedom. It was the reason why she was planning to take a group to the rumoured Haven down in the south, the rumoured free living area that the System was trying to keep secret.

An hour or so later she walked into her bedroom and stripped out of the jumpsuit she wore for work and folded it into the corner, ready to go to Laundrette, and she opened the cupboard. Pulling out a pair of jeans and a white vest, she got herself dressed and pushed her feet into a pair of boots that were over jeans. She pulled on the community issued navy jacket and pulled the hood up over her naturally curled hair. Free time was about to start, and the social was in the centre of the square. She took a token, enough to get herself a drink, before exiting the apartment and heading out into the rain.

She ran through the rain and to the empty market square and headed straight to The Social. It was a bar fashioned out of a wooden stall, and a large wooden roof held up by wooden pillars. Beneath it was decking that supported benches and tables holding candles, and that was their bar. Once under the shelter she removed her hood and jacket, although it rained it was still muggy and warm. She placed the jacket onto the table and swapped her token for a large drink. “Ah, the Scavs found something a bit better than the juice” The server informed.

“Good… That last batch was a bit on the sour side” Mina said with a light smile.

“Sugar shortage” The man said as he produced a bottle with a faded label on it. “The canes got attacked by some rats, so had to be destroyed” He informed, hooking a metal thing under the lid and pulling. “Lager” He informed handing it over. “Scavs found a whole tanker full down on the west coast” He added as she took a sip. It wasn’t the best, but it was better than whatever they had served last week. She went to hand over her token and he waved aside his hand. “On me… For helping my little boy last week” He said, before walking to the next person.

She picked up her drink and made her way back to the table and took her seat, and she pulled a hair tie from her pocket. She piled her hair on top of her head before securing it in place, the odd curl here and there falling free. And so she waited, looking at the closed stalls of the market square as she waited for her party to arrive.