They stood there in silence for a moment after the people rushed the wounded man out of sight.
“C’mon.” Becca bumped Madison’s arm. “Help us feed the cows.”
“’Kay.” Madison twisted to look Eva in the eye. “You okay?”
The scrawny girl took a deep breath. “Yeah. Thought someone was trying to kill us, but he had an accident.”
Stuff doesn’t matter. We could die from anything any time. Madison put her other arm around Becca and squeezed her friends together, beyond thrilled to have time with them.
“What are you getting emo about now?” asked Becca.
“A farm accident,” said Madison. “The world isn’t safe anymore.”
“It wasn’t safe before,” whispered Eva.
“Yeah, but it’s more dangerous now.” Madison exhaled. “I’m trying to deal. Remember, I’m the crazy kid who kept talking to a dead phone.”
Becca nudged her. “You’re not crazy, just… trying to deal.”
“I don’t want you guys to die.” Madison fought off the urge to cry. “I’m okay. Dr. Tegan said it’s normal for me to get super emotional about small things after what happened. Part of the process.”
“Yeah.” Becca smiled. “Let’s go feed the cows. They’ll make you feel better.”
“Okay.” Madison smiled.
4
No Normal but What We Make
Harper sliced potatoes into chunks beside the kitchen sink.
The repetitive soft thunk of the knife hitting the cutting board in the otherwise silent house proved relaxing. It wouldn’t be long before the kids returned from the farm and their voices filled the air outside. Harper almost laughed at the idea of surviving a nuclear apocalypse and ending up cutting vegetables in a reasonably normal kitchen. She pictured herself in full ‘apocalypse-chic’ regalia, which for a girl her age probably meant a leather bikini with spikes all over the place, her hair dyed hot pink or something silly, and two big machetes on her back—at least according to Hollywood. The mental image of ‘wasteland badass girl’ slicing potatoes reached a point of ridiculous to where she laughed out loud.
“Probably why they don’t show the normal stuff in movies, right? Hey, Bloodsaw, you wanna go cut some people’s heads off? Yeah, sure. Gimme a sec to finish the potatoes first.”
A streak of white dashing across the back yard made her look up, out the window.
Why is there a chicken in the yard? She chuckled. Probably got out. Wonder how long it’s been running around. Hope it’s gone by the time Cliff gets home or it’s going to end up in a pot.
She kept cutting potatoes for the soup-stew-something she and Carrie intended to put together for dinner. Tonight, they’d use up the last of the boxed pasta, simple macaroni elbows… but it had to be the only remaining dry pasta anywhere in Evergreen. They probably would’ve used it months ago if it hadn’t been stuffed out of sight in the cabinet. One box of elbows wouldn’t work for her entire new family, but adding it to a stew helped stretch it over another portion or two.
Madison ran by in the backyard, the chicken following her.
Oh… Harper laughed in her head. Guess she adopted one. Ack. Gotta tell Cliff not to kill it.
Jonathan, Mila, Lorelei, Christopher Dominguez, Becca, and Eva ran around, playing some sort of ‘laser sword tag’ game they’d invented. One kid had a pool noodle—a.k.a laser sword—and tried to wallop someone else. As soon as they got a ‘kill,’ the person they hit took the ‘sword.’ Maybe they kept score, maybe they didn’t. It looked far too chaotic and random to have any real rules.
Harper gathered the potato chunks into a bowl. “Wow. Time really is going backward.”
“Huh?” Carrie looked up from the stew pot she’d been stirring. “What do you mean?”
“Womenfolk in the kitchen, kids playing outside instead of being in here on video games, Dad out doing ‘manly things.’”
Carrie laughed. “We’re making food because we’re here. You know darn well Cliff cooks whenever he’s got night patrol.”
“Yeah, I know.” Harper leaned on the counter. “Just making a joke. I should be used to the kids playing outside now. It’s just like Cliff’s stories about growing up. He says they didn’t even have video games for the home until he was like eight or nine years old.”
“Oh, the horror.” Carrie fake gasped.
“Right?” Harper held her leg out. “And here we are literally barefoot in the kitchen.”
“Hah. Be glad we still have a kitchen at all.”
“No doubt.” She grabbed the next potato and plonked it down on the cutting board. “Hey, can I ask you something serious?”
Carrie put the lid on the stew pot. “Of course.”
“I’m kinda struggling with Lorelei.”
“What now? Is she out there naked again?” Carrie approached to look out the window over the sink.
“No. I think she’s starting to get the message clothes need to stay on except for bath time… or rain. I mean struggling in the sense it feels more like I’m her older sister than a mom. We’re not far enough apart in age, I guess.”
Carrie patted her shoulder. “There are plenty of older sisters and brothers who step up to take care of their little siblings when something happens to the parents. You shouldn’t stress out about being ‘mom’ enough. Do the best you can.”
“Yeah…” Harper cut another potato in half. “Tegan said something about being mom… I shouldn’t like try to be her best friend. I’m just worried after everything she’s been through. I don’t want to put my foot down over something trivial and upset her. Am I being too soft on her? Mind letting me know if I mess up?”
“As much as I can.” Carrie playfully elbowed her before returning to tend the pot. “Being older than you doesn’t mean I know how to wrangle kids. I’ll offer whatever advice I can. Not sure how much it applies anymore, considering the world ain’t what it used to be. Just try to be ‘mom’ first, friend second. It’s more important to do what’s right for her than make sure she likes you.”
Harper collected the potato chunks into the bowl. “This is Lore we’re talking about. She likes everyone no matter what they do to her. The poor girl is broken.”
“She ain’t broken.” Carrie reached for the spice rack, but sighed at all the nothing it held. “I sure do miss seasoning. How messed up is it that simple salt and pepper feel like exotic spices from a faraway land? Anyway, Lore ain’t broke. She’s just trying to come to terms with the cards life dealt her. Remember what Dr. Hale said. Keep on giving her a stable home and she’ll be okay.”
“Yeah.” Harper sighed, moving on to carrots. “At least she’s keeping her dress on more often than not lately.”
Carrie laughed. “Small progress is still progress.”
“She’s doing really well. I’ve been trying to do what Tegan said and not make too big a deal about it to avoid traumatizing her into being ashamed of her body or neurotic about clothing. Hard to believe she had it so rough before.”
“Abused?” asked Carrie.
“Not like that. I think her mother just neglected her to the point she didn’t buy her clothes or didn’t care if she wore them or not. Sorta took ‘free range parenting’ to a ridiculous extreme.”
“Kids can be resilient. And a lot of them go through a weird phase with clothes. My sister’s son loved streaking around the house. He outgrew it by six, though. And yes, I know Lorelei is six, but she’s been coping with things kids shouldn’t have to cope with.” Carrie put the lid on the pot, turned to face Harper, and leaned against the counter. “I’m pretty sure her mother started off trying to do the best she could, then crashed hard. I’m no psychologist, but—”
“You Googled?”
“Hah. No. Saw a documentary a while back about a neglected kid. His mother didn’t really feed him or even talk to him when he was a toddler. Police found him at like seven, nearly starved to death. In the documentary, they showed him at like sixteen. His adoptive parents had to lock the
fridge, or he’d just eat everything until he threw up. Lore is pretty darn normal by comparison. Her mother had to have bonded with her in the critical early years, but fell flat on her face later on. Probably due to drugs.”
Harper stared at the handful of carrots she held down to the board. “What is normal anymore?”
“Whatever we make it.” Carrie waved randomly. “We’re not quite back in the Old West, but we’re also not really in the modern world anymore.”
“Gotta pee!” yelled Madison.
Harper looked up at the window as her sister tossed the pool noodle to Jonathan, then ran inside, leaving a trail of bare dirt footprints across the kitchen floor before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom.
“See? Now I feel like Mom.” Harper grabbed a towel and crouched to wipe the linoleum.
Carrie laughed.
A few minutes later, when Madison zoomed back into the kitchen, Harper caught her. “Hey, you tracked dirt all over the floor.”
“Sorry, Mom.” Madison smiled.
Harper sighed, hugged her, then let go. “What happened to your shoes?”
“They’re in my room. They’re too small for me now and kinda hurt.”
“Okay, yeah. It’s been a while.” Harper ruffled her sister’s hair. “We’ll go see if the quartermaster has anything after dinner. It’s going to get too cold to go barefoot outside soon.”
Madison looked down.
“What’s wrong, Termite?”
“Heh. Just thinking about how much I whined at Mom when she took me shopping. I want to apologize.”
Harper let out a long, slow breath. “Kids are kids. Mom knew you didn’t intend to be annoying on purpose. If there’s anything like ghosts or an afterlife, I’m sure she’s forgiven you.”
“I hope so,” whispered Madison.
“There’s a chicken in the yard.”
“Rosie,” said Madison.
“Explain.” Harper folded her arms.
“I already told you about her.”
“Yes, but not why she’s here.”
Madison pulled her hair out of her eyes. “I don’t want her to be killed for food. She’s a pet chicken, not a food chicken. She knows me and wants hugs and stuff. It would ruin me if they killed her.”
“Okay…” Harper patted her shoulder. “I’m not going to get involved here, but if Mr. Rollins or someone from the farm management gets upset, you need to prepare yourself for the possibility they might want her back on the farm.”
“I know.” Madison tapped her big toe on the floor. “But we have so many chickens. They can let me save one.”
It’s like the war to her. So many people where we used to live in Lakewood, but I only saved Madison. “Okay.”
Madison ran outside—and promptly ate a pool noodle to the face. Jonathan had been hiding against the wall by the door.
The ‘hey, not fair’ argument lasted five minutes, but ended with everyone outside laughing.
“Not bad,” said Carrie. “Almost sounded like a mom there.”
“Thanks.” Harper gave a halfhearted chuckle… and resumed slicing carrots.
5
The Thing About Stuff
The storeroom had shoes in Madison’s size, if a little big.
Liz Trujillo, the quartermaster, joked about kids not needing shoes until their feet stopped getting bigger—to save time and materials—once the Walmart raid stash dried up. As far as Harper could remember, she stopped outgrowing shoes around fourteen. Madison promised to take good care of them so some other kid might inherit her new ones in a year when they no longer fit her.
Back home, Harper flopped on the couch and dared to crack open The Secret Garden. She’d made it up to chapter eighteen, but every time she tried to read it, something happened. Merely touching the book at all set her nerves on edge. However, she didn’t believe in curses, jinxes, ghosts, shadow men, magic, or other forms of woo. Skepticism didn’t stop her from worrying too much about becoming comfortable in Evergreen or taking risks like going out on expeditions. They’d found safety here. Leaving town felt like taunting a tiger.
Even accepting the town as a safe place seemed as if it would guarantee tragedy. The instant she let her guard down and tried to feel as if they might know happiness here, something bad would happen to Madison, or her… or the rest of her new family.
Plenty of bad already came their way, though. She’d lost both parents, several friends, the Tyler situation, had to shoot people. Her deepening love for Logan only served to increase her anxiety. As soon as she truly accepted she loved him, fate would take him away as it had done with Tyler.
Harper stared at the first page of chapter eighteen without reading it, thinking about Logan and whether or not she should suggest they go all the way in bed. They’d done just about everything possible short of that or ‘butt stuff’ as he awkwardly, jokingly referred to it. Granted, she didn’t know a lot about sex, so ‘just about everything’ to her probably didn’t encompass very much at all. Merely thinking about ‘mouth stuff’ made her blush. More than half the girls in her class claimed to have done that for their boyfriends, many talking about going down on them as no big deal. Whether or not they really had or simply bragged, she didn’t know, nor wanted to.
Nearly losing Logan to a gunshot a few months ago erased her worry about going too fast to avoid being dumb and getting hurt. She really did love him, as much as she figured someone her age could believe themselves truly in love. Living in a reality where anyone could die tomorrow made the notion of ‘saving herself’ seem sad in a naïvely unrealistic way. She didn’t want to throw away her virginity to be rid of it like Darci had. Her friend once believed doing so made her an adult. No, Harper wanted to share the joy of making love before anything happened to one or both of them. Afraid someone might catch her turning red in the face, she stopped thinking about Logan and turned her attention to the book.
“Ugh, not again,” muttered Jonathan.
Harper peered over the top of the book.
Jonathan and Mila lay on the floor, attempting to use the PlayStation. It worked in stints between fluctuations in the electrical power that caused the system to shut off or restart. Naturally, it made playing games frustrating… but the kids kept trying.
Might as well enjoy it while they can. I’m sure we’ll see the end of electrical power as a thing in our lifetimes.
Having developed and lost it could allow future generations to rebuild technology more easily, but it would still take decades. If she made it to old age, she might end up in a place like a 1930s or 1940s-era care home. Should she and Logan have kids, they’d probably keep ‘grandma’ as comfortable as possible until she died at home. Maybe society would reestablish a national power grid by the time she became elderly, but no guarantee. She thought it less likely she’d live past her seventies—if even to them—than civilization would get anywhere near back to what it had been before the war in her lifetime.
Madison and Lorelei played out in the yard, content to enjoy the last few hours of daylight.
Unlike her previous life, Harper couldn’t spend all her free time hanging out with friends and goofing off, so she tried her best to enjoy idle moments whenever they happened. She read for a while, in between wondering what Renee and Darci were up to. Her new friend, Grace, put in long hours at the medical center, learning. Renee worked with a group learning how to make fabric from plants like flax, ultimately with the goal of manufacturing clothing by hand like in the old days. Darci still slacked, not having any official ‘job.’
Cliff sat in his favorite recliner reading some sort of technical manual so he could help Jeanette out if the idea of making windmill generators ever got the go ahead. Solar panels wouldn’t last forever. Replacing them required all sorts of chemicals and high-tech manufacturing processes humanity no longer possessed. Making wind turbines sounded like a much more sustainable idea. The Earth would never run out of wind, and it took much less of a technical infrastructure to produc
e mechanical parts—as opposed to advanced chemical composites, or whatever alchemy they made solar panels out of.
She read for an hour or so in peace.
“Harp?” called Madison from the hall.
“Yeah?” She looked up.
“C’mere.”
Figures. I dared trying to read this book again. Harper stuffed the bookmark in place, got up, and headed down the hall to find Madison standing by the bathroom door, pointing. “What?”
“It’s on the toilet seat.”
She leaned in the doorway to look. A smallish beetle wandered around on the seat. Why is Maddie afraid of a little bug? With a shrug, Harper stepped into the bathroom and coaxed the insect to climb onto her hand. Madison followed her as she carried the bug outside, across the yard, and let it go on the wooden fence.
“Thanks,” whispered Madison.
“It’s only a bug. Nothing to be afraid of.”
Madison smiled. “No, I meant thank you for still taking it outside. You didn’t smash it.”
“Huh? Why would I?” Harper blinked.
“Sorry. I was worried you having to shoot people might hurt you in the brain. I’m glad you’re still yourself. I wasn’t afraid of it… wanted to see what you’d do.”
Stunned, Harper stood there in silence for a few seconds before pulling her little sister into a hug. “Yeah, I’ve changed a bit. We all have. But I’m still the same person inside.” Or trying to be.
“Cool,” mumbled Madison into Harper’s shoulder.
“I’m glad to see you acting happy again.”
Madison tossed her head to swing her hair off her eyes. “Yeah. I used to be sad about all the stuff we can’t do anymore, all the stuff that’s gone. But Mom and Dad always complained about being stuck in ‘the rat race,’ having to work all day. I dunno. Maybe this is better. I like taking care of the animals and being with them more than playing video games, and I don’t have to study my butt off to get into college, then end up owing a ton of money only to get a job that makes me sad. Then I get married to have kids who’ll do all the same things all over again. I think it’s more important we live to be happy and to survive.”
Evergreen (Book 5): The Nuclear Frontier Page 4
