Cliff snickered.
“How long do you think it’ll be before they have electricity back? I really want a hot bath.” Harper ate a spoonful of chicken soup.
“For the time being, it’s a question of heating water over a fire out back. Spent a few hours building a thing today outta cinderblocks. Couple metal pails of boiling water added to the tub should make for a warm bath. Old West style.” He chuckled. “I’ll be cutting wood soon enough, but we can’t blow through it too fast. Probably once a week for the bath thing, maybe once every two.”
“Eww.” Madison scrunched up her nose. “Every two weeks?”
“Yep. If wood’s low, you might wind up having to share a bath, too.” He grinned. “Or you could just keep stinking.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
After dinner, the kids stretched and did dance stuff in the living room while Cliff took the AR-15 apart on the table to clean it. Harper rinsed off the dishes and put them away, then sat at the table watching Cliff work and chatting about gun maintenance.
Once it became difficult to see inside due to lack of light, Cliff lit a candle. “One thing I don’t understand—”
“Just one?” Harper smiled.
“Hah. You’re a funny kid.” He poked her in the arm. “What the hell did people do back in the 1800s when it got dark? I do kinda miss the PlayStation.”
Harper shrugged. “Guess they went to bed. Woke up at the butt crack of dawn. Not much to do in the dark except read by candle light or, well… back then people had tons of kids.”
Cliff coughed. “I’ve already got three. That’s plenty.”
“Are you sure? Carrie seems to like you.”
He stuck his tongue out like Madison had earlier.
Harper giggled. “Anyway… I think I’m going to sleep. My legs hurt from all that walking.”
“Heh. All that walking. I’ve got some Army stories for you about walking.”
“C’mon you guys.” Harper collected the kids and ushered them to bed.
She grabbed one of the toothpaste tubes Madison grabbed from that house and had the kids brush, rationing out the paste to last as long as possible by giving them only pea-sized blots. The closet only had two toothbrushes, so Harper used her finger. Madison offered to share a brush with her, but she couldn’t quite go that far.
Once in the bedroom, Harper undressed and put on a man’s T-shirt as a nightgown. It felt wonderful to be able to sleep in a real bed without having to stay dressed. Spending almost two weeks wearing the same underwear all day and sleeping in it hadn’t registered at the time, but looking back on it, the idea made her skin crawl. Madison also changed into a T-shirt nightgown and crawled into bed.
A sheet, three blankets, a comforter, and an afghan made for a cozy nest, even without the fire burning all night long. Madison snuggled against her side, offering a physical demonstration of why old-timey families often shared beds: warmth.
Harper barely had time to think much about her day before sleep snuck up on her.
For breakfast, everyone munched on bowls of dry Lucky Charms and shared a can of peaches.
Harper didn’t so much mind the food, as she’d resigned herself to the truth of having something to eat at all made for a good day. She did, however, hate that she couldn’t be normal and start each day with a nice hot shower the way she’d done since she’d been old enough for showers instead of baths. She missed nice shampoo, scented soap, bath bombs, and so on.
At the thought she’d likely never use nice shampoo again, she choked up.
Only Madison noticed her at the verge of tears and stopped eating to give her a ‘what’s wrong?’ look.
Ugh. Why am I tweaking out about shampoo? I still have Madison. And Jonathan doesn’t even have any bio family left. I should be tweaking out that we might run out of food, or firewood, or bullets, or some crazy idiot showing up. She sighed.
“Harp?” whispered Madison.
“I’m okay. Just worrying.”
“What about?” asked Cliff.
“Is ‘yes’ a valid answer?” She managed a weak smile.
He nodded. “Considering the circumstances, yeah.”
After breakfast, everyone left the house at the same time. Cliff headed straight south ignoring the road, while Harper took the kids to school via the same route she went the previous day. She didn’t stop too long at the bus barrier, only enough to exchange good mornings with the sentries.
A little ways past it up Route 74, she decided to start the argument. “I can’t stay at the classroom all day again today. I’m supposed to be doing the militia thing, so I gotta do that or I’ll get in trouble.”
“Okay,” said Jonathan.
Madison squeezed her hand tighter. “Tell them to let you guard the school.”
“I’ll ask about that, but I’ve still got to learn my way around here.”
Her sister emitted a grunt-whine and stared at the road.
Clattering from up ahead drew Harper’s attention to an athletic woman pushing a large cart down the highway. It looked like one of those things people used at Home Depot to buy lumber and held a stack of silver-edged tiles the size of house windows as well as a big toolbox. The woman slowed to a stop when they got close.
“Hey. You must be new here.” She eyed the shotgun. “Militia?”
“Yeah. Harper Cody.” She offered a handshake.
“Jeanette Ortiz.”
“Oh, the electrician? Those are solar panels, right?”
“Yep.” Jeanette patted the stack. “Collecting them from wherever I can find them. Idea is to make an array for the town, though we’re way short on the number of panels it’ll take for that. First priority is to get some juice to the medical center.”
“Umm… you gave the school power before the doctors?” asked Harper.
“School already had panels on the roof. That didn’t take much work to fix. EMP flash just killed a couple breakers and the voltage controller. Basically anything with chips or transistors.”
“Panels?”
“Nah. They’re fine. Might be a tiny bit of performance degradation, but they still work.”
“Cool. Hey, can I make a suggestion?”
“Shoot.”
Harper grinned. “If it’s going to be too difficult to give power to the whole town, can you set up like a bath house or something so we don’t need to use firewood for heating bathwater and stuff?”
“Hmm. That’s not altogether a bad idea. I’ll run it by the mayor.”
“You do electric stuff?” asked Madison.
“That’s right.” Jeanette smiled at her.
“Can you fix my phone? It won’t turn on.”
“Oh, I don’t work on those kinds of electronics. I fix power lines and circuit breakers, hot water heaters, lights, that stuff.”
Madison sighed, nodded, and stared at the ground.
“Anyway. I need to get this back to the storage room.” Jeanette shook hands again. “Nice meeting you.”
“Same.”
Harper continued on toward the school, again cutting across the field. Upon rounding the corner of the building to the front, she stopped short at the sight of a young man with unruly brown hair in a long coat standing near the main doors. He reminded her of the weird kid at her school who everyone thought would ‘do something’ one day. She squeezed the pistol grip on the shotgun, but kept her finger away from the trigger.
Come on, Harp. You can do this. You’re supposed to be a cop now, remember.
She silently cleared her throat and approached him.
He glanced over at a scuff from her sneaker. “Hey.”
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Not much. You?” She glanced from him to the school and back. “Kinda odd to just be standing here like that.”
“Kinda odd to see a kid with a shotgun.”
“Yeah, well, it’s an odd world these days.” She widened her stance, but kept the gun in a relaxed grip.
“Guess
they put you on the militia, huh?”
“Is that the shadow man?” asked Madison, a little above a whisper.
Harper froze with a sudden spike of panic. Wait. No. That’s just some kid being mental.
He chuckled. “Shadow man? You’ve been talking to Mila?”
“You know Mila?” asked Harper.
“Not personally. I’ve seen her a few times while dropping off this kid I’m looking after.”
“You have a kid?” Harper blinked.
“Not the usual way. I’m only nineteen.” He smiled. “Was out there wandering. Found this half-starved little girl all alone in a gas station, asleep on the sofa in the waiting room by the mechanic shop. Brought her here ’cause I heard about this place being safe. Wound up turning into dad.”
“Lorelei?”
He nodded at her. “Yeah. The doctor thinks she’ll be okay, but it’s hard getting her to eat. Can’t have too much at once since she had so little for so long. I’m Tyler, by the way.”
“Harper.”
“Pretty name. Unusual. Totally works for you.”
Something about this guy didn’t quite sit right with her, but he seemed nice, didn’t have any obvious weapons, and if he saved Lorelei, he couldn’t be bad. Stupid jerks. She frowned mentally at the kids at her old school who used to tease that kid… Elijah or Ethan something. He’d had the same kind of off-center vibe as Tyler, though as far as she knew, he never spoke to anyone except teachers who asked him direct questions. At least this kid… well, nineteen-year-old, spoke to her.
Then again, she did have a shotgun.
“Sec,” said Harper. “Be right back.”
She slung the Mossberg on its strap over her shoulder and walked the kids to the classroom. Jonathan ran over to his group and jumped in the desk, getting into the conversation without hesitation. Madison whisper-begged her to stay. After a few minutes of going in verbal circles, Harper got her to calm down by saying the sooner she could find her way around town, the sooner they might let her stay at the school as a ‘guard.’ Madison sniffled, hugged her tight, then trudged over to the desks.
Harper had a quick chat with Violet about wanting to spend the day here, but couldn’t because she had an assignment from the militia. Though Violet clearly wanted help, she understood. Harper waved at Madison. Despite feeling like a complete monster for leaving, she forced herself to. When she left the building, she found Tyler standing where he’d been before. She walked over to him.
“Bad?” he asked. “You look like someone died.”
“My sister’s been real clingy since we had to leave home. I can’t keep bringing her on patrol.”
“Patrol?”
“You know, militia.”
Tyler grinned. “Seriously? Are you even eighteen yet?”
“Like seven months away from it.”
He whistled a few bars of a song she didn’t recognize. At her clueless expression, he feigned shock. “Come on, Winger? Seventeen?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, you poor deprived child.”
Harper folded her arms. “What are you talking about?”
“How can you not know of one of the greatest Eighties bands ever?”
“Probably because I’m A: normal, and B: the Eighties happened forever ago.”
He fake scoffed. “Poor kid. Bet your parents know it.”
She stormed past him. “My parents are dead, asshole.”
“Hey, wait.” Tyler ran up alongside her, jogging to keep pace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Harper slowed to a normal walk. “Okay, so you didn’t know. It’s still… well… whatever.”
“Sorry. Sometimes I forget there’s been a war. I guess I shouldn’t just assume everyone’s parents are still around like that.”
She glanced over at him. He didn’t seem to be trying to hit on her, or maybe he did and her frazzled emotions couldn’t tell. The boy did look genuinely apologetic. “Are yours?”
“Not sure.”
“Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be.”
“Harper?” called a distant woman.
She stopped and looked ahead down the road.
A dark-haired woman wearing a camo jacket over jeans jogged up the street toward her. A compound bow, also camouflage, over her shoulder wobbled with her stride and a quiver of arrows hanging from her belt rattled. She also carried a smallish handgun in a holster on her right hip.
“Gotta take this call,” muttered Harper. “I think it’s work.”
Tyler snickered.
Harper headed toward the woman. “Yeah. That’s me.”
“Marcie Chapman.” She shook hands. “Walt figured you’d be at the school.”
“I know. I wasn’t gonna spend the day here, just dropping my siblings off.”
“Oh, that’s fine for now at least. That’s not why he sent me to find you. We’re putting together a scavenging trip and you’ve been tapped for it.”
“No!” shouted Madison. She bolted out of the bushes in front of the school and sprinted down the road, crashing into a hug. “Don’t go!”
Harper shot a helpless look at Marcie while cradling the back of Madison’s head. “It’s only—”
“Please don’t go away and leave me here!” Madison burst into tears. “Please!”
The girl had barely sniffled about their parents’ deaths. Seeing her explode in a fit of scream crying slapped rational thought out of Harper’s brain.
Tyler slipped away and wandered off down the road.
“Well, it’s only the briefing.” Marcie pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “Might as well bring her along for now.”
Harper watched Tyler stroll away. So far, she hadn’t seen anyone else in town that close to her age. Well, the fifteen-year-old was also two years apart, but he still looked like a boy. Tyler didn’t. As odd as he seemed, at least having a friend in her age group would be cool.
Madison kept screaming ‘please don’t go’ every so often while tugging at her.
“C’mon, Termite. It’s just a briefing.” She took her sister’s hand, which appeared to placate her for the moment.
Together, they followed Marcie back down Route 74. Violet didn’t come out chasing Madison, a fact that worried Harper. It also felt wrong to arbitrarily drag her away from school. But then again, normal society had gone off on break for a while. Maybe by the time Madison had a kid, they’d get in trouble for missing school again.
Or maybe something would go drastically wrong; Violet would die and humanity would devolve into primitive tribespeople who’d sooner eat a textbook than try to read it. A group like that might speak fondly of ‘the ancients’ who once ruled the Earth, worshipping old computers or phones like magical artifacts. She straddled both worlds, having grown up (as much as seventeen years constituted growing up) surrounded by modern things, and now stepped foot into an unknown world of primitivism. Would society slip back to the 1900s, the 1800s? Worse?
She didn’t want the modern world to end, but she had no say in what had already been done.
And the men who ‘hit the button’ certainly wouldn’t care what one teenage girl thought.
Maybe she had a point when joking with that lawyer.
People these days might just shoot politicians on sight.
22
Growing Up
Walter Holman raised a hand in greeting when Harper entered a large conference room at the militia HQ.
Five other people stood at the table. She recognized Ken Zhang, Darnell Buck, and Fred Mitchell, but not the thirtysomething blond man with striking blue eyes. A somewhat grungy Hispanic man stood beside him, smelling of industrial chemicals and looking like someone used him as a rag to clean up an oil spill.
Everyone glanced at Madison, who still clung to Harper’s side, sniveling.
“Harper,” said Walter by way of greeting. “Okay. Now that everyone’s here, I’ll get started. Rafael’s gotten one of the rigs working, so we’re going to
hit the Walmart in Littleton. We have no real information about what the situation is like there, since we’re a little short on helicopter recon.”
Chuckles went around the room. Harper forced a smile and faked laughing.
“The good news is, Rafael managed to work his magic. You’re going in with an operational tractor-trailer. The only walking you’ll have to do is in and out of the store. Primarily, your objective is to recover canned foodstuffs and bottled water, anything that’s still edible. Second priority is clothing. Considering the size of the store, I’m thinking you’ll be making several trips if things go well. We want to grab as much useful stuff as we can get our hands on before anyone else lays claim to it. We’re not going to forcibly take it if there’s already someone there. By all means defend yourselves, but we’re not going in there to strong-arm anyone.”
Harper exhaled with relief.
“Also,” said Walter, “if the area is too dangerous, back off. We’re not at the verge of starvation… yet. So, there’s no reason to take foolish risks.”
Everyone nodded.
Madison squeezed her tighter and started crying again.
“Colorado Springs took a direct hit,” said Marcie. “Ain’t nothing there worth a darn. Couple new arrivals showed up last night with good news about Littleton. Walt’s right. We gotta hit it fast before someone else does.”
“I wanna go too,” yelled Madison. “If you’re gonna make Harp go, I wanna go too. Please don’t make her leave me.”
Walter walked over and crouched to eye level with her. “Maybe in a few years, hon. We can’t send you out there. It’s too dangerous.”
“Harper shouldn’t go either then. She’s only seventeen. Not even old enough to drink.”
Ugh. What am I doing? Harper bit her lip, doubting herself. She didn’t belong ‘playing soldier’ like this. If she went out there and something happened to her, Madison would be completely alone—and ruined. She squeezed the strap, starting to tug it off her shoulder. Just give the shotgun to Walter and say I can’t do this. Maddie needs me more than I need this gun. I’m a chicken. I save beetles from bathtubs. A brief flash of screaming filled her head—her and Maddie home alone here in Evergreen, some faceless man kicking in the door. Being a chicken killed Dad.
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