The Sky Grew Dark (The End of the Golden Age) (6 page)

As soon as he walked away my mom turned to me.

“Did you have sex with him?”

I looked at her for a moment without answering. I thought about telling her it was none of her business.

“No.” Thoughts raced through my mind. This was not where I wanted this to go.

“He’s way too old for me, Mom.”

She laughed and it grated on my nerves.

“How old do you think he is?” She got this coy little smile. A smile she always has when she’s talking about sex and it seriously grosses me out.

              I got up and walked away.

             
“I’m going to check on the garden.”

             
I took the boys with me to provide a distraction. I was mad that my mom would assume I would hop into bed with some guy I didn’t know just weeks after my husband had died. I tried to shake it off. I wondered if we should just cancel our dinner with him.

             
When I got back to the cave I forgot about John and my mom. My grandpa was back.

He told us an outpost had been set up. It was only ten miles away, and we could trade meat, vegetables, and fish for other supplies like antibiotics, soap, and matches. He said we needed to be careful because small groups of thieves had formed and they were attacking people on the main roads.

It was also rumored that the Koreans had exhausted their resources, and we were readying ourselves for a counter-attack. As this information soaked in, I wondered how long it would be before things would get back to normal.

He opened up his backpack and pulled out a small leather case with four tiny syringes. The vaccination. I stared at it for a while, unable to comprehend that this little thing could have saved so much death and destruction. I noticed a strange symbol on the leather case and something about the case struck me as. After a few moments I realized that the case was caked with dry blood.

“Did you already use yours?” I inquired, realizing we needed five. He shook his head no.

“I’m not staying.” Was all he said, and he kissed my mom and ducked out of the cave.
             

We all stared as he disappeared. I tried to work through his
rationale. Maybe he thought we would do better without him. I couldn’t help but feel that yet another man in my life was abandoning me. I tried to push that out of my mind. I needed to think about the task at hand. There was no way we could go with him, so we just needed to move on.

I watched my mom while I quickly administered the vaccine. She seemed to be taking it pretty well, but it could be because she had found new hope in John. I wondered if she was attracted to him. He could be good looking. I just couldn’t tell with that beard. After engaging her in a conversation about the vaccine, we examined the box grandpa had brought and decided we should bury it. Who knows what story was behind that.

We took inventory of our stock and supplies, and with the newfound information about the nearby outpost, decided we would try and get some new clothes as soon as possible. Our clothes were worn and ragged, and Seamus looked like a castaway with the combination of the growth spurt he had over the winter and his short pants.

My mom and I planned to wait until the next litter of rabbits was born and then we would slaughter the other six rabbits, all at once, and take them for trade. Perhaps we could use any fish John gave us that week, too.

The next day and a half passed quietly. It was odd, since it seemed like something huge had happened every other day for the last six months. We were settling into our life here. It wasn’t ideal, but we were surviving and that was what was important.

As evening was drawing on we prepared for our dinner with John. We had washed all our clothes that day and tried to spruce things up a bit.

I heard a sharp intake of breath and looked up. A man had walked in our camp. Nobody moved for almost a minute. We all stared, wordlessly. Just as I had decided to dive for the gun I realized it was John. He had shaved his beard and looked like a different person. He had a bouquet of wildflowers, and presented them to my mom with a kiss on her cheek.

The boys ran up to him and started jumping around, clawing at him like he was some kind of a jungle gym. He looked across at me and held my gaze for a moment before turning his attention to the crazy monkeys attacking him. I felt a tightening in my stomach and turned away.

I spun to help my mom and saw my sister staring at me with a smirk.

“Too old, huh?”

I blushed and ducked my head.

“He looks younger without the beard.” I quietly replied, trying to hide my smile.

“Yeah…younger and hotter.”

I ignored the comment and started helping my mom finish up dinner. I could tell his presence relaxed her, and for the first time in months I felt peaceful. The boys were laughing and playing, and the winter finally seemed over. I knew we were going to be alright.

But I still wanted answers.

Excerpt from
The Breaking

Book II in The End of the Golden Age Trilogy

“Did you see him?” I he
ard a man ask, his ruff voice rumbled barely above a whisper. My eyes snapped open but I found only blackness. They were covered. I bolted, trying to free my eyes only to find my hands were tied behind me.

I heard scrambling and the sound of voices. My antics had alerted the others to my return to the present. I was on my side, my face smashed into the earth. I started choking as dirt filled my nose and mouth. My arms were sore and tired, and as I struggled to turn over I whimpered as a fresh wave of pain crept down my wrists. They were raw and felt on fire from being bound.

              Suddenly, the voices grew quiet. I stayed still, trying to hear what was going on. There was nothing except heavy footsteps, making their way to me until a hand grabbed my hair and snapped my head back.

             
“Where is he?” That gruff voice from the river breathed into my ear. I didn’t even know what to say. Who?

             
The hand tightened its grip, and I cried out, certain my scalp was bleeding. “Who? Who are you talking about?” I said as tears streamed down my face.

             
“Sergeant Martin. We know he has been hiding out over here.” He jerked my head around again, as if emphasizing his point.

             
“I don’t know him! I don’t know who you are talking about. Please let me go.” I bit my lip to try to stop crying.

             
“I don’t believe you, girly.” He said, leaning in close again. He sounded like he was smiling. “Who made those fancy fish traps? You seem like his type, some girl living out here alone, needing a big strong man to help you.” His mouth was inches from my face, his foul breath hot against my skin.

             
“My husband made them.” I whimpered. I had always envisioned myself taking control of a situation like this, not crying at the hands of a bully.

             
“And where is he now?” He asked. His voice said he was surprised that I had a husband.

             
“He’s dead. He died.” I began crying now. As the words came out of my mouth I knew they were a mistake. I shouldn’t have told him that. His hand roaming up the curve of my thigh confirmed that.

             
“So there’s nobody to hear you? Nobody to call for help?” Even with the blindfold on I was certain that now he was smiling. His hand reached my waist and he placed his hand flat on my belly. I jerked away. His touch sent chills down my body.

             
I heard a rustling noise and another voice snickering and I wondered how many of them were here. How long would they keep me? Rapid fire thoughts went through my mind. My family could be in danger. They couldn’t survive without me.

             
My thoughts were interrupted by a new set of hands, exploring. I clenched my teeth and tried to think about something else. I had read a story a while ago of a woman who had survived a rape attack. She said that she just let them do what they wanted, but that was easier said than done.

             
Another rustling and a breeze hit my face. I could sense some movement. Another voice joined in. I felt dizzy, like I was going to pass out. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. I wouldn’t let this happen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

E.L. Montclair was born in southern California and grew up living all across the Golden State. Her family has a culturally mixed history, one side growing up in the South and the other immigrating from Spain, giving her a rich view of the simple things in life.
Montclair now resides in Northern California with her family. She loves gardening, cooking from scratch, eating sustainably, and playing video games with her three boys.