The girl peered up at her with an expression that said ‘duh, it’s chilly.’
Jonathan climbed the ladder and walked over, having to hold his waterlogged shorts up. He still looked underweight, but at least neither he nor Madison remained dangerously thin.
“Maddie,” called Harper. “It’s been about two hours… time to go home.”
“Okay!” Madison dove under, swimming toward the ladder.
“Well, you folks have a good rest of the day.” Mrs. Wheatley stood and approached the pool edge, calling for Robin to also get out of the water.
The kids waved at her.
“See ya later.” Terrence got up and jumped back into the pool.
Yeah. What a day all right. Harper toweled Lorelei off then dressed her like a toddler. The child’s quiet shivering made her worry the girl had gotten more of a chill than she admitted.
Crap. Please don’t get sick.
5
A Small Light in the Great Dark
Lorelei tolerated becoming a blanket burrito after they got home. She snuggled up on the sofa while Madison and Jonathan played a board game on the living room floor. Harper rattled around the house doing her best to clean without a working vacuum and limited supplies. The house had some cleaning products from the former owner, but they wouldn’t last much longer. Someone, somewhere had to know what people used before the invention of Lysol.
She paused in scrubbing the kitchen sink to wonder how far back civilization would slip before recovering. Two generations forward, would anyone even remember things like computers, airplanes, working cars, or video games? Or would society revert to a bunch of barely-dressed primitives running around with spears and living in tents? Everyone laughed at Lorelei streaking the pool before, but sixty years from now, would that be normal? Did enough people inside the former United States even remember how to make clothing? Or cloth? Harper couldn’t think of where cloth even came from besides ‘the store.’
Dad used to complain that no one made anything here. Everything came from like China or something.
Of course, people made their own things back in the day, but the colonists also came from a world where that had been the norm. Everyone alive in the US at the moment simply went to a store or ordered stuff online. One thing going to a new country and bringing knowledge along. Totally different to be dependent on industries that ceased existing. Eventually, perhaps not in Harper’s lifetime, there wouldn’t be any more clothing to scavenge. At some point, the houses would eventually collapse. People would have only what they could make out of scraps.
Why am I depressing myself by worrying about crap like this? I won’t be around. She frowned, picturing herself as a barely mobile old woman navigating the overgrown streets of Evergreen while teens in animal hide ponchos carrying spears emerged from tents to run off on a hunting expedition.
Okay, now I’m taking things a little too far. This isn’t a movie. Society will rebuild itself. We’re more likely to recreate the Wild West than turn tribal.
Becca and Mila arrived, which precipitated the kids all migrating out to the backyard.
She didn’t expect Cliff would be home early enough for dinner, so she planned on cooking at the normal time. They had a few things in the cabinet he could eat without too much prep, or he could always stop at Earl’s for whatever they had available. That place had taken on the burden of feeding single people. The quartermaster instituted a policy of issuing limited food to people without families, basically providing breakfast they could eat at home but asking them to go to Earl’s for lunch and dinner. It both made distribution of resources easier and saved on firewood.
After a passable attempt at cleaning out the bathroom, Harper flopped on the couch to rest. She stared down at her hands, wondering how on Earth her mother had managed a real job plus chasing two kids around, plus her half of the housework… until Harper hit about twelve and the chores began mounting. Her mother had been superhuman, even willing to grab a pistol and kill people to protect her children.
Dammit, Mom. I miss you guys so much. Harper grabbed a pillow off the couch and cried into it for a while, trying to stay quiet so the kids didn’t hear her and become sad, too. Every argument or fight she’d ever had with her parents came to mind and set off another wave of grief. She apologized over and over in her mind.
At the creak of the back door, Harper hurriedly composed herself. Figuring her eyes would be red, she fake sneezed a few times to generate a believable excuse for it. Madison walked around the end of the couch, sat next to her, and clung.
Oh, no. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” muttered Madison.
Harper put an arm around her. “Okay.” Maybe this is SUC. Spontaneous unexplained clinginess. No, ‘suck’ is a bad acronym.
Madison squeezed tighter.
“Did something scare you?”
“No.”
“Not a bear, is it?”
Madison shook her head.
“Did someone say something mean?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“What for? You don’t have anything to apologize over.”
“Your birthday is in a couple days.” Madison sniffled, then peered up at her. “I’m sorry ’cause I’m happy you’re not gonna ever move out to college or get married and go away somewhere I’ll never see you again.”
“Aww.” Harper hugged her tight. “I’d live at home forever if it would bring Mom and Dad back.”
“But it won’t… I know they’re gone.” Madison wiped her eyes. “Is it okay that I’m happy you’re gonna stay with me? I feel bad ’cause it’s kinda like also being happy they died.”
“Not the same thing at all, Termite. And yeah, you can be happy that I’m gonna be here for you.”
Madison smiled. “Sorry for being a little baby.”
“It’s okay to be emotional. We had a rough year.”
“Yikes.” Madison rolled her eyes with a teary chuckle. “Just a little. We had way more than just a ‘rough’ year. I should be in therapy, but all the therapists are dead.”
Harper snickered. “Well, that works. We don’t have any money to pay them.”
“Heh.”
“Seriously, if you want to talk to someone, Dr. Hale’s there.”
Madison peered up at her, pale face framed in long jet-black hair. “Nah. I’ve made a deal with my mental trauma. It’s only allowed to bother me in nightmares now. Not when I’m awake.”
Harper ruffled her hair. “Right.”
The floor lamp by the front window came on.
Madison went wide-eyed, staring at it. “Harp…”
“Whoa. Is that light on?”
Cheers rang out in the distance. Something went bang like a celebratory firework, but she doubted whatever exploded had been meant to.
“Ooh!” Madison spun around, kneeling on the couch while facing backward. “The stove’s lit up.”
“Eep!” Harper leapt to her feet intending to sprint for the kitchen, but stopped herself once she realized her little sister meant the clock, not the cooking coils. She ran to the wall and hit the nearest light switch. Ceiling lights in the kitchen came on. Madison dashed down the hall to the bedroom, emitting a squeal of delight when the lights worked. She zipped across the hall and turned on the one in the bathroom.
“Hey,” called Harper. “Don’t waste elec—holy crap, the electricity’s on.”
Madison dashed to Jonathan’s bedroom and turned that light on, then ran down the hall to the living room, crashed into Harper, and started bouncing around in circles with her, cheering. They ran around the house together for a few minutes, turning stuff off and on. Predictably, the television didn’t have any signal—but it came on.
“Oh, whoa… the EMP didn’t fry this TV,” whispered Harper. “Lucky.”
“Not so lucky.” Madison turned it off. “TV’s no use without channels.”
“Yeah.”
Madison looked up at her. “Are we seriously freaking out li
ke we won a free trip to Disney World because light bulbs work?”
Laughing, Harper said, “Yeah, we are. Wow, turning on the light used to be such a nothing thing to do.”
“How messed up is that? We’re screaming about the lights.” Madison frowned. “They nuked Mickey Mouse, didn’t they?”
“No idea. Nothing’s on the news.”
“Butt.” Madison stuck out her tongue.
“Maybe they did. Symbol of capitalism and all that.”
“Huh?”
Harper headed down the hall to turn off unneeded lights. “Something Cliff said. But I guess that would only be true if some communist country nuked us.”
“How long is the power gonna stay working?” Madison stood in the hallway, watching her go from room to room.
“Not sure.” Harper leaned into the bathroom to kill the light and stared at the bathtub. Hot water. No more bucket boiling. She closed her eyes. Oh, please let the solar system work for years. “Umm. We probably shouldn’t expect it will last forever. I think solar panels go bad after a while… and the whole power grid is basically loose wires run around town by people taking their best guess at what to do.”
“Dad would’ve said the same thing about before.” Madison emitted a mirthless laugh.
With the wasteful lights off, Harper headed back to the couch… and stared in disbelief at the floor lamp. “I wonder if this is how people felt in 1800-whatever the first time they saw electricity.”
“Probably not.” Madison trailed in and sat beside her. “They wouldn’t have seen electric lights before. We grew up thinking it’s no big deal, then lost it. To us, it’s like a sign the world isn’t completely broken anymore. To them, it would’ve been something new and weird.” She did a funny ‘old person’ voice. “I don’t need that new-fangled electricity. My candles and oil lamps work just fine.”
For the second time in ten minutes, something happened that made Harper gawk. Madison displayed her old sense of humor. The kid had cracked a joke. Her goofy side poked out from under the cloud of gloom. Harper laughed despite the tears welling in her eyes, and made a silly face.
“What in tarnation is that infernal thing?” asked Harper in a ‘little old lady’ voice.
Madison laughed.
“That’s funny.” Harper wiped her face.
“What are you crying for now?”
“Laugh tears.”
“Harp, you’re still a bad liar.”
She poked Madison in the side. “I don’t want you to make fun of me for being squishy.”
“But you are squishy. You cry when people step on bugs or kill mice in traps.”
“Mousetraps upset you, too.”
Madison folded her arms. “Stop changing the subject.”
“I’m just happy the lights came on… and seeing you happy kinda got me.”
“Aww. You’re right. You’re squishy.” Madison flopped against Harper.
Harper raspberried her.
They sat together for a few minutes in silence. Madison seemed happy or content, Harper’s mood swirling between joy, guilt, and worry. I really need to stop feeling like I’m doing something wrong whenever I catch myself being happy. Losing Mom and Dad wasn’t the end of the world… Oops. Yeah, it was. She bit her lip at the dark humor.
“I hope it keeps working for a long time.” Madison fidgeted.
“Me, too. We’re good until the solar panels quit. Or something else goes wrong.”
“Do you think the entire country is gone or are there enough people left to fix it?”
Harper gazed at the ceiling, trying to piece together an opinion based on things she’d overheard here and there. It didn’t sound terribly good in terms of getting back to anything resembling the civilization they knew within their lifetimes. The Army people said the East Coast had been wiped out, same with major cities on the West Coast. It make little sense for anyone to waste nukes on Third World countries, so perhaps enough civilization remained in parts of the globe to seed the redevelopment of certain technologies. But, even then, it would take a long time. What had been the USA could evolve into multiple different nations as easily as attempt to put the Union back together. Perhaps they’d even be invaded by the military from like Nicaragua or Guatemala or one of those places. Or even Mexico if no one sent nukes down there. Perhaps the old government had thought about such an eventuality and nuked Central America out of spite.
“Hard to say, Termite.” Harper fussed at her sister’s hair. “Everyone is probably still just trying to survive at this point. Cliff said the biggest threat after nuclear war is starvation. Most of our food came from the Midwest, the fancy stuff from overseas. There’s no ships anymore, most of the cars are dead, smashed bridges, no trains.” She shuddered at the idea of survivor groups possibly resorting to cannibalism if they had no other source of food. The blue gang is going to need to start farming or they’ll die out. If they find out about Evergreen, they’re gonna attack us. Maybe that’s why Scott went nuts. Starving people do crazy things.
Madison clutched the small sofa pillow. “That’s kinda scary.”
“Yeah. We’re kinda isolated in the mountains, so who knows what’s going on in the rest of the country. I don’t really care to go exploring, either.”
“Me neither. I just wanna be safe.”
“Yeah. So do I.” Harper sighed at the ceiling.
“Are people gonna work together or steal from each other?”
“Both. There will always be people who think stealing is easier.”
Madison looked up at her. “Should I be scared?”
“We shouldn’t live in fear all the time, but we need to be careful.”
“Okay.” She huffed. “Nuclear war is stupid.”
Harper poked her again. “Talk about understatement.”
“Are we gonna run out of food? Mr. Rollins said the smoke shortened the growing season.”
“What?” Harper asked, trying not to sound as frightened as that question made her.
“During farm school, he said the explosions lit fires and made a lot of smoke and stuff. It’s gonna make everything a little colder and less rain, so plants won’t grow as long. That’s why they made the farms so big even though there aren’t that many people here. An’ there’s no bug killing stuff anymore.”
“I think he’s talking about what could possibly happen, but it might not be that bad. The corn is growing, and the sky isn’t too hazy. Might not be that way all over the world, but we could’ve been lucky here.”
“We’d be luckier if stupid people didn’t push stupid buttons.”
“That, I agree with.”
Jonathan walked in. “Maddie?”
“Here.”
He came around the side of the couch. “What’s up? Oh, holy crap! The light’s on!”
Harper smiled. “Yeah.”
“Guys!” Jonathan ran to the back door. “Guys, come here. Check this out!”
“I should get started on dinner,” said Harper. “About that time.”
Madison grinned. “Hey. We have clocks again, but I don’t think it’s one in the morning. What time is it?”
“No clue.” Harper patted the cushion twice, then stood.
Lorelei, Becca, and Mila walked in, grilling Jonathan about what got him shouting. He pointed at the bulb.
The house filled with squeals.
Harper cringed, though couldn’t help but laugh. She headed to the kitchen to get started on dinner, leaving the kids to run around the house again. As soon as she opened the cabinet to stare at the dwindling supply of cans, she found herself dreading that something horrible would happen soon. Madison had acted silly. The power came back on. Too many good things too close together. This new world always seemed to punish happiness. Nothing nice occurred without subsequent punishment. She’d thought the only teenage boy left in the world liked her, then he tried to kill Madison. Later, when a whole busload of teenage boys arrived, she avoided all of them. Except maybe one. But what
would go wrong next? What would the world do to jam the knife in a little deeper because she’d dared to smile today?
Cliff went out on a scavenger run. She bowed her head. No. Please, no.
6
Hidden Threat
Three long air-horn blasts sounded outside.
“Dammit,” whispered Harper. “Fire.”
The kids rushed into the kitchen, all staring up at her in fear.
She spun to face them. “Calm down. That’s a fire alarm. I gotta go check it out.”
Madison grabbed her arm.
“No one’s shooting at anyone. It’s only a fire.” Harper squeezed her. “C’mon. I gotta go.”
She rushed outside, not bothering to grab the Mossberg from the bedroom. The .45 on her belt would provide enough defense for a fire scene… hopefully.
“Carrie?” shouted Harper.
Their next door neighbor appeared in a window of her house. “Yeah?”
“Fire call. Can you please watch the kids?”
“Of course. Be right there.”
Another three-long tone sounded in air horn.
Harper waited the minute or so it took Carrie to hurry outside and cross into the yard, told her the Mossberg sat in the bedroom if she needed it, then ran toward the commotion. She followed Hilltop Drive to the highway and crossed Route 74 into the trees to the southwest. Shouting, more air horns, and smoke led her to a house relatively close on the south side of Elk View Drive, perched up high on a hill, nearly half engulfed in bright orange flames already.
Militia members ran back and forth between it and three houses across the street, running buckets of water up and down the big hill rather than follow the winding driveway. Harper scrambled down the hill, heading for a red-walled house. Someone in the chaos handed her a big orange bucket. She carried it inside, waiting in line to fill it from the bathtub. Dennis Prosser moved away from the tub with a full bucket, scooting past her to the door. She held her bucket under the water, but by the time it filled three-quarters of the way, she doubted she’d be able to carry it completely filled, so decided to leave with it mostly full. With a grunt, she hauled it up and stumbled outside, sloshing and splashing after the others.
The Lucky Ones (Evergreen Book 3) Page 6