The Hive: A Post-Apocalyptic Life by S.A. Ison

The Hive: A Post-Apocalyptic Life by S.A. Ison

Author:S.A. Ison [Ison, S.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-17T22:00:00+00:00


SIX

Franktown, CO

Milly wiped her hands dry. She’d finished up the dishes. Everyone was in the living room, around the woodstove. The room was toasty and snug. A soft smile curved on her face as she watched her granddaughters. Christmas had been solemn among the adults, but they’d managed to make it magical for the girls. Milly had gone into the attic and had rummaged through the old junk that she kept up there, unable to throw any of it away. She’d found Laura and Marybeth’s old toys and games. She’d selected a couple things and had brought them down and cleaned them up. They had a few years’ worth of Christmas toys; all they would need to do was resurrect them. Perhaps Quinn and Bart could also make things, in the future, like a swing or some such.

Laura had helped her clean the found toys up. The toys weren’t new, but they were in good condition.

“Thanks mom, the girls were really happy this morning.” Laura grinned, walking over to her mother. She slid her arms around her mother’s neck and kissed her on the cheek.

“Well, we can’t go to stores, but we can make do. Those cloth dolls you made, turned out sweet. I think the girls liked those the best.” Milly grinned at her daughter.

“Sure, if you don’t take in the crappy sewing.” Laura chuckled, her eyes crinkling. Milly hugged her daughter. Since shooting that bastard in the front yard, her daughter had finally stepped up to the plate and accepted the new world they lived in. She had stopped moping around for Hogan, who was never coming home. Milly loved her son-in-law, but the man was lost to them. If the reports they heard on the radio were even fractionally true, then there was no coming back from this. Their government had made a horrible situation worse.

All they could do, was pick up the pieces and move on. She also saw something budding between Quinn and her daughter. She smiled. Quinn was a good man. Zoe had been a sweet woman and had died too soon. But Milly was a pragmatist, and life went on, with or without the dead. Laura went back over to sit on the floor, they were playing a board game. Quinn was holding Allain and Alexa laid up against him. Laura was saying something, and Quinn grinned.

Milly watched the interlocutors; their body language spoke more than their words. Bart said it was a confluence of romance. She tittered at the thought. Bart was such a romantic. Christ. She looked at her husband, who was sound asleep in his lounger. His mouth slightly opened, a book resting on his stomach. He’d taken his boots off and his feet popped out from the knitted afghan that covered him. One toe poked shyly through a hole in the sock. She’d have to mend that.

Quinn had shot a turkey the day before, so they had turkey for their Christmas dinner. They’d all eaten their fill, for once setting aside the careful measure of food.



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