They’d both been dancing around each other for several months now. The sexual tension growing between them. Since the night he’d slept with her on the couch, it had been in his mind. He’d wakened during the night, with the smell of her in his nostrils. It had stirred him. He had pulled her closer and had fallen back to sleep, dreaming erotic dreams. Since then, every touch, accidental or not, sent waves of desire through him. He’d fought the urge but had seen the desire in her eyes as well. Both were fighting it, because he was still tethered to Laura.
He knew he’d always love his wife, but she was gone and with each passing day, he knew he’d never be with her. He was coming to love Trish, she was an amazing woman, kind and smart and talented. A nurse and a farmer. He smiled as he watched her shovel. She was strong too. She’d been through a lot during those first months, so had he. But she was resilient.
They’d been out walking the property last month. Gathering deadfall, he was pulling the cart and she was gathering. It was a peaceful moment in their lives. She’d turned to laugh at him and had caught her foot in a snag, her laughter had turned to startlement as she fell forward. He’d caught her and held her. He’d kissed her then, wrapping his arms around her, supporting her. It had been a passionate and devastating kiss. It had severed the link to Laura, and he’d been shaken up by it.
Later that night, he made love to Trish. It had been slow and sweet and there had been no regrets for either of them. Now, they shared her bed, and each night, they made love to the sound of the dogs’ snoring below.
Both turned when they heard gasping and saw a man come stumbling through the thicket that edged the field. He was an older man, Hogan put him in his late sixties to early seventies. He wore a bloody coat and absurd, bright yellow coveralls, streaked with dried blood. His face was pale as death and his breath came in sobs and gasps. Hogan hadn’t drawn his weapon. The man stumbled from the trees, clutching his coat closed and tightly to him.
“Please help me. For the love of Christ, please help me.” He rasped; his voice hoarse. He stumbled over the uneven ground and fell to his knees. Then Hogan heard something that turned his skin cold. A thin wail emitted from the man’s coat. He jumped forward as did Trish and grabbed the man by his arms and pulled him up. Down, within the recesses of the coat was a baby, a newborn.
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Topeka, KS
Megan pushed the large gas-powered tiller in front of her. The equipment was heavy, and she was sweating bullets, maneuvering it across the large field. There were others in the field with her. Ian, Tilly and others were moving tillers across vast expanses. They’d been bussed out from the Hive. They’d spent the previous week tilling the grounds around the Hive, getting it ready for planting. The field they were working on would hold corn. They were to work this field, then they would be taken to another. They’d been at this location for a couple days. There were children following behind, pulling out rocks and weeds.
The youngest child was six. Her mother and father were near, tilling as well. Whole families were working together. Families that had younger children were bussed out, either with one or both parents. It had been heart breaking to watch as families were split up. The Hive had been cold blooded about it. The families either cooperated or would be kicked out to fend for themselves. The news they were given, was that the surviving part of the United States was in a state of catastrophic emergency. No food or not enough coming in. Everyone had to pull together, or they’d all starve.
Looking over, she saw a woman, Ramona, she thought her name was. The woman had gotten pregnant and had been forced into an abortion. She’d been threatened with expulsion from the Hive, to starve or to be attacked by the violence outside the wire. The woman had wept bitterly but had complied.
Men were encouraged to get vasectomies, women, to either have their tubes tied or use some form of birth control. Pregnancies would not be tolerated. If a woman tried to hide the pregnancy, she’d either submit to abortion or be kicked out. The atmosphere in the Hive was oppressive. The people worked long hours and were given rations that just barely sustained them. They were promised that once the harvests started coming in, their diet would improve. The gardens in the upper tiers of the Hive were producing, but Megan had rarely seen any of that food on their plates.
She paused for a moment, looking around the field. The children carried five-gallon buckets and walked along the tilled-up earth, dragging the large buckets. Farther down, along the rows of disturbed earth, robins were busily feasting on excavated earthworms. The occasional woodpecker swooped in for a wriggling treat. There was a small flock of redwing blackbirds that waited long-sufferingly for the robins to leave, then they’d swoop down to help themselves. Above, the sky was a cerulean blue, beautiful and cloudless. A soft smile lit her face when she saw Sandhill cranes flying in a V formation, far above her. She wondered where they were going. Megan then rotated her head and tried to shift the ache from her shoulders. There were hundreds of people out in the vast fields. And so many children, children that should be in school or playing. When the subject of school came up,
