Greenhouse: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (Insularity Book 1) by Stephanie Mylchreest

Author:Stephanie Mylchreest [Mylchreest, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The morning bathes me in tiny specks of light that pierce the shelter of the old willow tree. The dawn air is cold and fresh and my sleeping pack warm. Hunger finally drives me out. My body aches and it is good to stretch. Abigail packed some boiled eggs and more bread. There is also a thin slice of cheese wrapped in paper. A mug of hot tea would be nice but I make do with water, now chilled by the night.

Loud, raucous sounds fill the air around me as the forest inhabitants shake off the night. Birds call to one another and the trees themselves pulsate with slow, meandering life. A solid night of sleep has served me well. I am eager to meet Abigail but it will be an hour or so until she’ll be back, so I take a walk to pass the time.

Our willow tree is close to my village and I find myself drawn closer. Soon I can see the cluster of white-walled log houses through the trees and I slow down, moving more quietly and carefully. I stand behind a large oak, check I am well hidden, and watch the village wake up. My neighbors open their doors and fetch wood for the morning fire. People attend to their sewage-gas generators, filling the digester with manure and food scraps. Philip Parson, my friend Marissa’s father, empties the slurry from his generator into the forest nearby. One by one, smoke pours out of the narrow chimneys. I smell freshly baked flat bread and steaming porridge. Everything is as it should be.

I carefully skirt around the village closer to my home. The doors and windows remain closed. There is no smoke from the chimney and no sign of my family. From my vantage point I can also view Abigail’s home and I watch as her mother opens the front door. Her face is drawn and tired. She is dressed for work in the fields. I almost miss seeing Abigail as she drops out of her window and runs towards the closest thicket of trees. I had better hurry back to our place. She will be unhappy that I left the safety of the willow tree to loiter near our village, risking capture.

I make it back before Abigail and I pace around the perimeter of the tree impatiently, waiting for her. Soon enough I hear Abigail’s whistle announcing her arrival and she walks through the forest and into the small clearing around the willow tree. I am surprised her father is with her. I’m not sure how he has avoided work duty but I am happy to see him.

We all enter the safety of the tree’s cover and Abigail’s father embraces me. “It’s good to see you, son,” he says in a low voice, holding my hand in his. He has the same wiry black hair as Abigail and his hands are slender and calloused. He is family. I’ve known him my entire life.

“It’s good to see you too.

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