Shadowed Silence An Ecological Dystopian Adventure - The Silent Lands Chronicles:: (Book Four Of The Silent Lands Chronicles)

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Shadowed Silence An Ecological Dystopian Adventure - The Silent Lands Chronicles:: (Book Four Of The Silent Lands Chronicles) Page 2

by E. A. Darl


  Mitch turned off the highway onto the dirt road that led out to Cory's home. "So..." he hesitated, "So, are you moving into town?"

  "No. Mom and Dad both have taken jobs with one of the government operations.”

  “Where?”

  “Back East.”

  “Nooo,” Mitch groaned. He pulled the car up in front of the house and set the car in park.

  The two boys sat in the idling car for a few moments, speechless and staring out the windshield.

  Mitch looked at Cory. “If you get a job here, you could stay with us. I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind.”

  “Man, listen,” said Cory softly. “There are no jobs here. There’s nothing here. My mom and dad can get me on with the company they will be working for. If I can get my foot in the door with a government operation, I can get opportunities I won’t ever have here.” He turned to Mitch. “Look, you can come with us. There are jobs there. We aren’t moving until I’m done with high school - at least my mom and I aren’t - so you’ve got time to consider it.”

  Mitch sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “You’ve got time. I’m serious, dude. It would be great to have my best friend close by.”

  The two friends looked at each other for a moment as the car engine rattled quietly.

  “Well this sucks,” Mitch grumbled.

  “Yeah.” With a sigh, Cory unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. “Thanks for the ride, as usual Mitch. See you tomorrow?”

  “Sure thing. Say hi to your mom and dad for me.”

  “I will.” He slammed the passenger door and moved to the back of the car to get his bag out of the trunk. With a wave to Mitch, he climbed the broad porch steps as the car pulled back out on the gravel road.

  Mitch drove home with a heavy heart.

  Chapter 3

  Big Plans

  The chickadee's quick movements caught his eye as the tiny bird flitted through the tree branches, hunting for bugs. Hopping from branch to branch, its distinctive gray and white plumage stood out against the pale bark and yellowing leaves of the old ash tree.

  Harvey drove with his windows down. It was hot for early September, he mused. It felt like it had been hot for years. Things would cool down by November, he hoped. Some rain and cooler temperatures would be nice.

  He watched the chickadee for a moment before he pulled away from the curb and continued on his beat. Several abandoned houses in this neighborhood required a police presence on a daily basis. No one could afford to buy them, and no one could afford to tear them down, so they sat, slowly deteriorating over the last couple of years. It was a shame, too. The once elegant houses now rested in dilapidated slumber, no longer useful to anyone.

  It appeared as if the chickadee was the only resident of this quiet neighborhood. Most of the homes along the street were occupied, though, carefully maintained by invisible owners as they hid behind the new security bars Harvey could see on the lower windows. There was a time when such things weren't needed in this neighborhood.

  Everyone was afraid. It was evident in the closed feeling of the homes, the lack of people, the empty streets. Children didn't play outside much anymore. The first ones to abandon hope and move to the bigger cities were the families with children. They had the most to fear, the most to fight for, it seemed. There were jobs in the big cities, schools with resources, opportunities that just didn't exist here in this small town any more.

  Even the birds were leaving, it seemed, or dying out. Harvey could remember the lilac bushes around his house when he was a kid. They were filled with sparrows year round, chattering noisily and taking turns at his mother's bird feeder. There were always chickadees, wrens, and finches in the trees, hunting bugs and interacting in smaller groups. They would come and go in organized, high-energy flocks and talk amongst themselves, as the sun would set on cooling summer evenings.

  Harvey couldn't remember the last time he saw a finch. Even the numbers of the pigeons on the courthouse were dwindling. There were still crows, though, and magpies. The carrion birds always did well in lean times. But then, they thrived on the demise of other creatures.

  Harvey turned the corner to start down the next street, taking time to look down the alleys and between houses. Squatters in the abandoned buildings were less concerning than looters who might be stripping the homes of valuable resources. Times were tough, and Harvey tended to look the other way if someone was seeking shelter in an empty house for the short term. There were rumors that some investor was working on turning some of the bigger, abandoned homes into cheap studio apartments for low-income people. There was already a waiting list of hundreds of names at City Hall, on the off chance that the rumor was true. People were desperate, and cheap housing was better than no housing.

  The next street over was more populated. Rows of duplexes and low apartment blocks lined the street. Most people were at work or school this time of day, but he could see a few people sitting out on their balconies or front steps, trying to take advantage of the slight breeze. Seniors, mainly. Harvey raised his hand in greeting to three elderly women who were sitting on a shaded front porch.

  "How are you doing, Ladies?"

  They waved back.

  "Just fine, Officer," called out the woman in the blue housedress. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

  "It certainly is," he replied. With a second wave, he carried on.

  Harvey didn't know why his wife was so worried. He may be a cop, but not much happened in this city. She really had no reason to fear for his safety. He always got the quiet beats, too. After twenty years, he had seniority, so for the sake of his wife, he took the safe jobs. Maybe after they retired, they could move somewhere more interesting. Until then, he was needed here.

  He turned the next corner and headed back to the station. Aside from the occasional car, he heard the distant call of a single crow and a warning bark from a dog somewhere.

  Otherwise, all was silent.

  MITCH TOOK HOLD OF Kendra's hand as they left the movie theatre. He dropped the empty popcorn bag into the garbage and held the door open for his girlfriend as they stepped out into the warm night.

  "That was great," he said. "I've been waiting to see that one for months. We always get the new releases two weeks after everyone else and it sucks to have to wait."

  "Yeah, it was good." She hitched her purse up on her shoulder and looked around at the parked cars.

  "Good? Don't you mean fantastic?"

  She glanced at him. "Sure, whatever."

  He shook his head, chuckling. "Fine, I won't take you to any more action movies."

  She didn't say anything as he opened the passenger side door and she got in. He climbed into the driver's seat and started his car, backing out carefully and pulling out of the parking lot.

  "So, you want to get something to eat?"

  Kendra shrugged and pushed a strand of dark blonde hair away from her face, not looking at him. "No, I'm good. I told my mom I wouldn't be too late."

  "Okay, could we just talk for a bit?"

  "Sure."

  Mitch drove three blocks to a small playground and pulled his car over, next to the curb. Turning off the key, he turned to smile at her. "Come on, when was the last time you played on the swings after dark?"

  She smiled back at him and they both got out of the car, running over the dry, dusty grass to the tall swings at the back of the park. Laughing, the two young people jumped on the swings and pushed back to start the worn swings swooping back and forth in the empty, dark playground. Gripping the cool chains, Mitch used his body weight to push his swing higher, yelling in childish glee.

  The night air felt almost cool as it rushed past his face and he grinned with sheer, uninhibited joy. The dark, cloudless sky glittered with millions of sparkling stars that wavered in the rising heat, making them twinkle. Mitch watched the stars as he reached the top of his swing on a backward swoop and felt a sudden longing to launch himself skyward to soar in
the crystalline heavens.

  Kendra's giggles spurred him on, and when he reached a decent height on a forward swing, he released the chains with a whoop, and let his momentum carry him through the air, to land on his feet in the sand. He hit the ground hard and used his football training to bend his knees and roll forward. Once he regained his feet, he thrust his fists in the air in triumph.

  "I'm an astronaut," he laughed.

  "What are you, six?" Kendra chuckled and dragged her feet in the sand to slow herself down.

  "Maybe. Remember how much easier life was, when we were six?" Mitch dropped down to sit on the sand, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his arms.

  "For you, maybe. We didn't have much when I was little. Mom barely made enough to keep us fed. I just want to get done with high school and get a job and move into my own place." She hopped off the swing and came over to sit next to him.

  "Okay, so here's what I'm thinking," he said. "I can't wait to be done with high school either." He leaned forward and took both her hands in his. "As soon as we graduate, let's get out of here. Let's pack a couple backpacks and just start travelling. We can work odd jobs on the way to make a bit of cash, hitchhike, stay in hostels or whatever. When we make enough money, we'll fly across the ocean and backpack across another continent. Let's go see the world while we can. What do you think of that?"

  Kendra pulled her hands out of his and sat back, studying him closely.

  "What? Just like that? Just up and walk out of here right after grad?"

  Mitch grinned, nodding. "Yeah, why not?"

  She was silent for a moment, looking around the dark playground.

  "Please say yes," he prodded. "It wouldn't be any fun without you. I can't think of anyone I'd rather travel with."

  She smiled then, and leaned forward to hug him. "Sure, Mitch. If you promise it will be fun."

  "It will, I promise." He grinned, and then kissed her, with the passion of youth.

  A single cricket chirped an unanswered serenade from the parched underbrush.

  Chapter 4

  Questionable Opportunity

  Kendra stuffed her modern literature book into her backpack and pushed her locker closed, spinning the combination lock a few times. Giving it a final tug, she walked away to head to her next class. A flash of pink caught her attention as Serena hurried up beside her, bouncing with excitement, as usual.

  "Is there ever a time you're not cheerful," she asked her dark-haired friend.

  "Not really, but I have lots to be cheerful about." Grinning, she flashed her hand in front of Kendra's face. "Take a look."

  "Oh my god." Kendra grabbed Serena's hand and pulled it closer, studying the emerald-studded ring on her friends' finger. "Is it real?"

  Serena yanked her hand away, pouting. "Of course it's real." She held her hand out in front of her, gazing fondly at the ring.

  "Where did you get it?"

  "Where do you think? From HIM, of course."

  "Him? Meaning, the invisible, mysterious boyfriend, who your parents know nothing about?"

  "Exactly."

  "So how do you intend to explain the ring?"

  The girls turned the corner and trotted down the wide staircase, pushing past the steady stream of kids ascending the stairwell.

  "Well, I take it off when I'm at home, silly. I can't let them see this."

  "Then what's the point?"

  Serena hugged her notebook to her chest. "After graduation, we'll announce our engagement, and he'll meet my parents then."

  "Oh, so you're engaged now?"

  "Not yet. Not exactly."

  "What does that mean?"

  "This is just a promise ring. He'll give me a real diamond ring when we get actually engaged."

  "He's that rich? What does he do?"

  Serena glanced sideways at Kendra. "He's kind of self-employed."

  Now Kendra returned the look. "Doing what?"

  "Oh, all sorts of things." Serena avoided her probing gaze. "But the fact of the matter is that I'll always have what I want, and I'll never be poor again."

  "And what does he want in return?"

  Serena turned and grinned at her friend. "My undying love and loyalty."

  "I'm sure that's all."

  "Well, maybe my help with his business sometimes."

  "What kind of help?"

  "Long story. I'll explain later." She stopped, turning to stand in front of Kendra. "Listen, you could have a piece of this, too. You'll lack for nothing, and here's the best part," she forged ahead when Kendra started to shake her head. "You'll be helping the people in the town. People who really need help."

  Kendra frowned at Serena. "What's this about?"

  "Look, you're going to need a job once you graduate, and there aren't a lot of jobs out there right now. This will give you the security that you need."

  Kendra thought of Mitch's plans to travel the world. It sounded romantic, but what were they going to do with no money and no home? Doubt swirled in her chest and she bit her lip. She had never had security in her life. And helping people? How could that be a bad thing?

  "Okay, I'm listening."

  THE NEWS HIT THE TOWN like an imploding building. The cereals manufacturing plant had been on the planning committee's drawing board for two years, promising jobs and an influx of badly needed cash into the floundering city. The investment backers released a statement that morning, announcing their intention to move their proposed build location to a larger center, citing production and staffing shortages and costs. Just like that, four hundred jobs vanished like steam on a hot afternoon, and the residents of Melina were devastated.

  "This is not good," Mom said as the story was announced on the evening news. "A lot of people were counting on that plant. Cereal grains and beef cattle are what are keeping this city on the map. If we lose that, how are people going to stay afloat?"

  "We still have a lot of cattle ranches around," offered Mitch hopefully. "There are two big packing plants just outside of town, and they have jobs."

  "Without the grain, you can't keep the cattle fed, son," said Dad softly, not taking his eyes from the television. "It's all connected."

  Mitch thought of the conversation he had with Cory, and told his parents what Cory had said.

  “Wow,” Dad shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that. With the Jameson cooperative folding up, that’s the third major operation in this area to go. No wonder the plans for the plant were scrapped. It’s just not viable.”

  “Is it really as bad as everyone is saying?” He looked from his dad to his mom, seeing worry etched in every line of their face.

  “Could be,” said Mom. “But it’s more than just a run of bad weather. Legislation is squeezing the profits of the smaller farms, making it harder for them and small businesses like local stores to compete, to stay ahead of things. We’re being taxed out of our livelihoods, and wages aren’t going up.”

  “But Cory says something else is going on. The wheat, corn and other grains aren’t growing because it’s so dry all the time, but the trees aren’t growing fruit any more, or not much. He said the other plants in his mom’s garden barely produce anything, either. She only got a small crop of tomatoes this year, hardly enough to can for the winter. What is stopping everything from growing fruits and vegetables?”

  Dad shrugged. “I don’t know much about gardening, but it seems to me that you need fertile soil to grow good crops. Maybe the soil is so depleted that it’s no good for crops anymore.”

  “Don’t forget pollinators,” Mom interjected.

  “What do you mean by pollinators?” asked Mitch.

  “The insects that pollinate food crops; butterflies, bees, wasps and such. Even some flies and other flying bugs contribute to pollinating. Think about it. How many insects did we hear at night this summer? Hmm? I remember when I was kid, the summer nights virtually vibrated with the songs of cicadas, crickets, and other bugs. We would even hear frogs and who knows what else, out singing
their songs. How about lightning bugs? Remember the lightning bugs you used to catch when you and Pam were kids? It’s been a couple of years since we saw any lightning bugs. They’re just...gone.” She lifted her hands helplessly, and dropped them in her lap.

  The three people sat in contemplative silence for a few moments.

  “Toxins?” asked Mitch. “Pollutants in the atmosphere? You’re right, though. Where are all the bugs?”

  “And the birds, too,” said Harvey.

  “Birds?”

  “Yeah. I was driving around on my beat today and I saw one little chickadee and remembered all the birds that hung around when I was a kids. You hardly see or hear a bird anymore.”

  “Something has changed, but I don’t know what it is,” said Mom. “I’m not the only one who is asking questions. Rumors fly around about government conspiracies, but those kinds of rumors have been around for as long as government has existed. Whatever is happening, the small towns are going to be the hardest hit. Just look at where we live. People are already packing up and leaving. I mean, I hate to panic and run at the first sign of trouble, but maybe they have a point.”

  “And what point would that be,” asked Harvey.

  She shrugged. “Maybe we need to go where the jobs are. I love it here, but we have to think ahead. If the farms are folding up, and the big cereal plant isn’t happening, how long do you think the store is going to last? Not to mention; how long do you think they are going to need three managers? At some point, my job is going to be redundant and I’ll be out of a job. Soon after that, there won’t be anything left of this town.”

  “Oh Jessica, these people are more resilient than that. I’m sure the government as a whole is working on making sure people don’t lose everything. Even locally, City Hall has plans in the works to take care of people in need and make sure the Federal government doesn’t forget whom they are working for: us. We’re a long way from the catastrophic destruction of civilization as we know it. We’ll be okay.”

  “You’re such an idealist. But I prefer to keep my eye on reality.”

 

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