Therese brushed a hand over the girl’s head, moving her long, brown hair off her face. The child stared into nowhere, her expression terrified, pupils dilated wide. She continued to breathe rapidly, her heart racing.
“Something at the power system must have blown up,” said Harper. “Maybe a transformer. It’s not a nuke.”
“Agreed. If it was another bomb, we would not be here to wonder what happened.” Therese reached to take hold of Emmy.
Harper passed the girl over, patting the child’s back reassuringly. “Breathe, Emmy. Slow it down, okay? You’re safe.”
Renee ran in, stopping short at the door to watch.
After another few minutes of Harper and Therese gently reassuring her, Emmy burst into sobbing tears.
“It’s okay to be scared.” Harper smiled. “There’s no more sky fire. The bad people used it all up last year. They can’t do it again.”
Emmy made a face like she didn’t fully believe it, but offered no protest. Harper smiled, patting the girl’s cheek while sneakily checking her eyes—no longer dilated too wide.
“Are you ready to go outside?” asked Therese.
“Umm.” Emmy glanced at the door. “Did they all die?”
“No, hon.” Therese kissed her atop the head. “Everyone is just fine. No one died.”
“I wanna see,” whispered Emmy.
Harper stood.
Therese carried the child to the doorway. Emmy peered out at the pool—where everyone had more or less resumed having fun like nothing happened.
“Not sky fire.” Harper smiled. “Someone probably just dropped a real heavy object.”
“Nothing’s heavy enough to sound like that if someone drops it,” said Emmy.
“Big hollow trash dumpster? You’re right, though. I don’t think anything fell. But it wasn’t sky fire.”
“How do you know?” Emmy scrunched up her nose.
“Sky fire isn’t a short, loud boom. It’s more of a rumble that gets louder and louder until the whole world is shaking.” Harper cringed at her memories of hiding in the basement with her parents, stuff falling from shelves all around them, the roaring outside so loud they couldn’t even scream at each other and be heard. She swallowed the fear and sadness, somehow managing to keep a straight face for Emmy.
“Oh. Yeah.” The child let out a big breath. “Okay. Do I have to go home now or can I swim more?”
“We can stay a bit longer if you want to.” Therese smiled and set the girl on her feet.
Emmy hurried off toward the diving board.
“Thank you,” said Therese.
“No problem.”
Harper trudged back to where she’d been sitting.
Renee followed. “What happened there?”
“Em had a panic attack. Almost ran blindly into the pool. Water plus someone who isn’t able to perceive the reality in front of them aren’t a great combination.”
“That poor kid.” Renee sat. “How sad is it to think PTSD is the new normal. Anyone who doesn’t have at least a mild case of it has gotta be a psycho.”
Harper hugged herself. “Sign me up for a straitjacket then.”
“You’re not psycho. Just dealing with it.”
“We all are.” Harper hugged her, then sat on her chair. “Some more than others, but we’re all fighting our demons. How are yours doing by the way?”
“Still quiet. Figure I’ve either mostly coped with everything or I’m going to fall to pieces someday at random.”
Harper looked over at her. “’Nee…”
“Think I’m okay. You, Cliff, and idiot found me before anything seriously bad happened.”
“Ugh.” Harper angry-sighed straight up at the umbrella. “I still can’t believe Eric shot you.”
“I got super lucky. Just a little mark on the skin now. No like pain or anything. Easy to forget it happened. And if taking a .22 bullet was the price of freedom from those creeps, I’m happy to pay it.”
Emmy cannonballed into the pool.
“My brain’s about to explode.” Harper massaged the bridge of her nose.
“Why?” Renee snickered.
“We’re talking about you getting shot, having horrible memories about the day everything went to hell, and the kids are just playing in the pool like any other summer.”
Renee poked her in the arm. “Little jealous?”
“Maybe a bit, but I don’t envy them.” Harper glanced to the south, wondering what exploded. “Let them be happy while they can.”
10
A Curse Broken
Following a nice afternoon at the pool, Harper spent an hour trimming the grass in the backyard—with her teeth.
Unintentionally.
Cliff worked with her on self-defense techniques, which more often than not resulted in her flying face first to the ground. Madison and Jonathan—much to both of their surprise—wanted in on it, too. Lorelei sat on the porch watching, playing with her dolls.
Of course, by the time they’d returned home from the pool, she’d heard confirmation a transformer at the solar farm blew up. According to Cliff, Jeanette and her team believed they could get another transformer up and running via cannibalized parts. If they couldn’t, they faced a choice between trying to find a way to salvage a comparable unit from the old Evergreen power station or hand-building a new one out of lower-tech parts. When they originally moved the now-dead one to the tennis court area, the town still had working trucks. Cliff intended to push the windmill idea. If they could make wind-powered generators, they could distribute them around closer to each house, thus removing the need for a transformer to push electricity over longer distances.
Fortunately, no one had been killed or seriously injured by flying shrapnel.
No electricity meant a return to candles and cooking by firewood for as long as it took to replace the bad transformer. Unfortunately, it also meant the hot water heater no longer worked. They would once again need to heat water in buckets and share baths only once a week to make the firewood last. Harper kept telling herself people survived not having electricity centuries ago, so she could deal.
When the self-defense practice came to an end, Cliff got started cooked venison outside on the cinder block grill. After eating, the kids played in the yard while Harper rushed to the couch and grabbed The Secret Garden, eager to get in as much reading as possible before the sun went down. No electricity also meant no working lights. As soon as it became dark, they couldn’t really do much else but sleep or sit around in the void talking.
Renee and Carrie went home next door to do some cleaning. Harper pushed aside a little nagging guilt at knowing she ought to clean around the house a bit. Only a few chapters left to go. She could clean tomorrow afternoon. Cliff settled into his recliner and resumed studying the technical manual.
Not even twenty minutes later, it started raining.
Madison and Jonathan rushed inside via the back door.
“Lore! Come on. Rain’s going to make you melt,” yelled Madison.
“No it isn’t,” shouted Lorelei from the yard. “All the ray-dation’s gone.”
Madison leaned out the door. “Seriously, c’mon inside.”
“Mom!” yelled Lorelei.
Harper kept reading for a few seconds before it hit her. Oh, crap. She means me. She twisted around to look over the back of the sofa at the kitchen and the door to the yard behind the house. “You’re probably right about the radiation after this long, but it’s starting to get chilly at night. Too cold to be wet outside.”
“Aww, okay.” Lorelei scampered into the house.
Madison shut the door, then huffed at the ceiling in a ‘kids are so exhausting’ sort of way.
Harper resumed reading while the kids dragged a board game out onto the living room floor. Jonathan grumbled occasionally about the electricity being dead, thus no PlayStation. Madison didn’t seem to care much at all about losing power.
“Video games…” Cliff looked up from his book.
“Light bulbs, hot water on demand, the stove, refrigerators, a handful of crap I don’t understand at the medical center. All that stuff needs power, but the biggest loss is video games?”
“Uhh. No, it’s not the biggest loss. Just the one that’s annoying,” said Jonathan.
“Losing hot water isn’t annoying?” Cliff chuckled.
“No. It’s worse than annoying. Not sure what to call it.” The boy scratched his head. “Not having the PlayStation is annoying but doesn’t mean anything.”
“Really expensive junk,” muttered Madison. “Without electricity.”
“A lot of what we used to have is real expensive junk.” Cliff chuckled. “I have warm fuzzy thoughts thinking about Lamborghinis and million-dollar yachts fried by EMP. All the money and resources society put into useless crap only a tiny percent of the people could use. Sometimes, I wonder if this whole thing is the Universe slapping us upside the head for being stupid.”
Harper poked a finger into the page to mark her place. “Nukes… speaking of another stupidly expensive thing society made we shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah. They should have left war the way it was meant to be fought.” Cliff raised a finger. “By people crawling through mud with guns that jam half the time.”
“Huh?” asked Jonathan. “Why would anyone want a gun that always jams?”
“Ask the people who accepted the M-16,” muttered Cliff.
Madison rolled dice for the board game. “We should get oil lamps. How did people get oil in old times?”
“Animal fats and seeds, I think.” Cliff turned a page in the manual. “We can probably find something about it in the library.”
Jonathan picked up the dice and rolled them. “Is the electricity going to work again?”
“The lights stopped working all the time where I used to live.” Lorelei, sprawled on her front beside the game board, scissored her feet back and forth. “Just yell bad words at someone on the phone and the ’lectric will turn back on.”
“No phones. I’d have to walk down the street and yell bad words at Jeanette. Pretty sure she won’t appreciate it.” Cliff winked.
Conversation petered out except for the kids talking about the game they played. Harper continued reading despite the weakening sun. She finally reached the end of the book with perhaps ten minutes of usable daylight remaining.
“Woooo!” shouted Harper.
She jumped off the couch, waving the book around over her head, screaming, cheering, and damn near crying tears of joy.
Cliff blinked at her. “You must be reading a different version of that than I did years ago.”
The kids stared up at her in bewildered awe.
“The curse is broken!” Harper hugged the book to her chest. “I finished it!”
He chuckled. “I haven’t seen a person that happy to successfully finish reading a book since I was stationed at an Army base in Alabama.”
“Ouch,” muttered Madison.
“No…” Harper held the book over her head in both hands like some ancient high priest making an offering to the gods. “This book has been my curse since we moved into this house. Now, it’s broken.”
“You are weird, Harp,” said Madison. “But that’s why I love you.”
Harper fell over backward, landing on the sofa. “Every time I’ve tried to read this, some catastrophe would happen and interrupt me. I never thought I’d be able to finish it.”
“Ahh.” Cliff smiled. “Now your reaction makes a bit more sense.”
“I don’ wanna read books if it’s gonna make me scream like that,” said Lorelei.
“They won’t. Harp’s just being a dork.” Madison handed Lorelei the dice. “Your turn.”
“What do you need to roll to land on bed?” asked Harper.
“Aww,” whined the kids at the same time.
She pointed at the window. “It’s going to be dark in five minutes and the lights don’t work. C’mon. Go brush your teeth and get changed while you can still see.”
Lorelei stood, looked at the book in Harper’s grip, then smiled. “Will you read me this story?”
“Augh!” wailed Harper in fake torment. “It took me months to read it once and you want me to read it again right away?”
“Uh huh.” Lorelei grinned.
The kids laughed.
“Okay.” Harper lightly bonked her over the head with it. “Can’t start now since it’s almost dark. Maybe when the lights come back, or tomorrow after dinner.”
“Yaaaay!” Lorelei zoomed off down the hall, cheering.
“Sounds like you’ll be at it for another whole year.” Cliff winked.
Harper narrowed her eyes in challenge at The Secret Garden. “Nah. It’s like a video game. I beat the final boss. Second playthrough is easier.”
11
Down From the Clouds
Each day closer to the anniversary of the world’s end darkened Harper’s mood a little more.
She expected to have some emotional issues to work out, but hadn’t planned on them being primarily anger and disbelief. How could anyone have been so stupid and heartless as to set off a nuclear war, kill so many people all over the world, and push humanity’s progress back by centuries? Most likely, the true sadness lurked two months from now in November, closer to the time her parents died.
Alas, by then, she’d lost track of time, so she didn’t remember the day of the month when the Lawless invaded her former home. Second week of November came as close as her memory allowed. Perhaps she didn’t want to remember the specific day.
Though the weight of loss sat heavy on her back, Harper didn’t show it to the world. She figured everyone more or less had the same gloom to work out except for the youngest who hadn’t really gotten used to the civilized world. One couldn’t mourn something they’d never known. Walking patrol in the morning gave her both solitude and quiet to settle her mind. The kids would be at the farm until a little past noon. Once they came home, she’d be off duty. Dennis or Sadie alternated taking over the patrol of the area for the later shift.
August still had a week or so left. She tried to cope with the oncoming gloom by ignoring the days as much as possible, hoping to realize at some point September was almost over without noticing it started. The idea started off unworkable. She couldn’t force herself to be oblivious to the start of September due to Renee’s birthday falling on the second.
Gotta be rough for her. Is she always going to associate her birthday with the end of the world?
Memories of her best friend’s seventeenth last year nearly brought Harper to tears, primarily because she hadn’t seen Christina Menendez, Andrea Orton, and Veronica Jackson since the blast. She had no idea if they’d died to the strike itself, ended up somewhere safe like Evergreen, or anywhere in between. Her friends might be starving in some other Army survival camp, prisoners of a gang like the Lawless—if not the actual Lawless—or killed by random idiots.
Renee’s seventeenth birthday had been the last time she’d been with all five of her friends at the same time. They’d spent the whole day at Renee’s house goofing around, not so much a ‘party’ as it had been a day off from all the various clubs, sports, jobs, and other obligations intruding on life. On their last year of high school, they’d already gotten a taste of how little time the adult world would allow for getting together and doing ‘friend stuff.’ Not like when they’d been younger and could hang out for hours, without worrying about anything but how much time they had before their parents called, wanting them to go home. Even if the world hadn’t blown itself to hell, she probably wouldn’t have seen much of her friends by this point. Summer would be mostly over and they’d all have been going in different directions to various colleges or jobs. Andrea wanted to be an artist and talked of attending a place more like a trade school for graphic design than traditional college. Veronica always joked about becoming an action movie star or stunt double. The girl loved martial arts more than most people loved food.
&nbs
p; If any of them survived, it’s her.
Knowing her friends would be scattered around different states by now even if the war didn’t happen offered little comfort. However, she also knew she couldn’t do anything to change it, nor could she have stopped them from going to college.
Ugh. Growing up sucks. Harper kicked a rock off the road.
Living in a reality where she had no cell phone to tell the time bothered her far less than she could have imagined. She’d gotten fairly comfortable using the sun to determine the difference between before and after noon, enough to where when she couldn’t say one way or the other, she figured it to be noon. Worked on nice days. When overcast, people tended to guess. The whole town still more or less stayed inside during heavy rain due to the old fear of droplets carrying radiation out of the upper atmosphere back to earth.
Considering they’d all been eating vegetables and meat from the farm for months, crops exposed to the rain, it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to freak out over bad weather anymore. Whatever fallout might’ve hopped a ride on a raindrop back to earth had long since done so.
As Harper rounded the bend in South Hiwan Drive passing Pinehurst, Darci came running up the grassy hill off to the left. She appeared upset, eyes reddened from crying. An oversized olive drab T-shirt and black military-style pants with tons of pockets totally didn’t fit the ‘Darci aesthetic.’ Her friend typically preferred goth clothes.
Aww crap. I knew it. Lucas dumped her or they had a fight.
Harper stopped short, waiting for her friend to run up to her. “Darce? You okay? What’s wrong?”
“I’m… I… it’s all gone. The whole world.” Darci broke down in tears.
Hello, Guinness? Is there a record for most delayed reaction to a massively significant event? Harper couldn’t think of anything to say in two seconds that didn’t sound flippant, so she simply hugged her friend.
Evergreen (Book 5): The Nuclear Frontier Page 8