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Seed of Hope

End of Times

By Becky ByrnsPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
2
The Author

I saw the spire looming in the distance as I quickened my footsteps and kept my gaze fixed forward.

"Just keep moving." I spoke out loud to myself. The darkness began to creep across the dirt road in front of me. There was so little light during the day. I had to eke out a living on 6 hours of light a day. Our food was in short supply. The Earth seemed to turn a dusty grey. It was like a corpse in repose, slowly rotting with each passing minute. Earth was in decomposition and those few of us left were subjected to the horrors of watching this decrepitude and ultimate death of our world. I let my thoughts drift to happier times but kept my stride swift.

"Allie!" I heard him in my mind. That sound reverberated through my whole being. It was Ben. The sides of my cheeks gradually began to stretch upwards to a smile. I longed for the eternal days of summer. Our last summer together. The last summer this world would ever see. Candlestick, Tennessee was the most beautiful small town in the world, at least in my eyes. Our farm, our family and our world were small. We had just 50 acres, but it was more than enough for our two children to live happy and healthy.

"Hey girl." My smile disappeared. This sound was not in my mind. This was real flesh and blood speaking to me. I forced my gaze to leave the comfort of the approaching spire. I steeled my jaw, imagined my whole body puffing up like a blowfish to look larger, scarier, if possible. I turned my head toward the voice. There, behind a withering Oak tree that once stood grander than any Romanesque statue, was a large human, at least I hoped it was human. I met it's gaze with a fierceness that would have frightened any human. This wretched darkness made it impossible to see. I was not usually out this time of day, but I had to retrieve the satchel that Ben had left for me.

"Do you have any food in that bag?" The voice spoke again. This time it sounded darker.

"No." I said it meeker than I meant to. I wanted to yell it in a way that would elicit terror, but I only managed to speak with a mousy squeak.

"This is not food." I yelled as I held the satchel up to prove it was too small to contain food and promptly progressed to a jog returning my gaze to the spire. It seemed further away in the encroaching darkness. I heard steps behind me. Despite the slow destruction of this world, I had stayed healthy with my son, Oliver and my daughter, Bree. We were taught to live off the land by my husband, Ben. We lost him in the eruption and were forever a broken family. However, the lessons he had taught us kept us strong during the dark winter that lasted 10 months after the initial pyroclastic flow. It had destroyed most of the continental United States over 8 years ago and with that destruction over 90% of the population had perished. We were lucky, not only in the specialized knowledge we had gleaned from Ben over the years, but geographically as well. Our area of Tennessee made the perfect escape. There is plentiful limestone in our area, which had created a generous cave system in and around our farm. We had previously used the caves for storage. They were cool year around and a small stream deep inside contained fresh water. Those caves saved our lives I had just enough time to grab the kids and rush them into the closest cave to our home before the pyroclastic flow hit. We had several years' worth of canned food already stored there as well as fresh water from the underground stream.

I heard the steps speed up behind me. Whoever following me was breathing hard. I was barely even winded as I broke into a run. There was no chance I was going to be caught. The spire drew closer as I sped along our once paved driveway the was now scorched black. As I drew within around 50 yards of the single white spire sticking awkwardly out of the ground, I turned my run into a sprint.

"Ollie, now!" I yelled as I heard the panting of the stranger running behind me. When I was just a few short steps from the spire the ground suddenly parted and I descended a homemade stone staircase. The spire was our landmark. It was the only thing left from our once quant farmhouse. As soon as I disappeared down the steps the ground closed back up. It was really a sliding steel door we had found in the caves and rigged to slide open and close with a lever at the bottom of the staircase.

"Kid, that was close." I said just slightly short of breath.

"Sorry mom. I was helping Bree in the growing room." Oliver's big blue eyes and scruffy brown hair peaked around the door wild with worry. He had only been 6 years old when our world was destroyed and he had to grow up alarmingly fast. Now, he was 14 years old on the outside, but he had the wisdom of an old man.

"Ollie, you dork." Bree stepped into the room from the growing room wiping sweat from her brow. Tall, lean and mean, Bree looked like I did at 16 years old, except she was fearless.

"I would have seen mom on camera earlier if Bree had not been bossing me around." Oliver scowled at his sister and demonstrated his best teenage eye roll.

"Did you get it?" Bree said as she stepped closer to me and offered a hug. She was always thinking a step ahead. Though she looked like me, she had her father's brilliant mind.

Ben had warned us for years that climate change was real and someday something cataclysmic was going to happen. We just had no idea a caldera volcano in Yellowstone National Park would cause the demise of our world.

"Mom! What is in the satchel?" Oliver tugged at the strap which was still looped several times around my wrist.

"I don't know." I replied as I slowly extricated it from my wrist.

"Open it please." Bree urged as she filled a bucket with water from the cave stream that snaked through our underground home. All three of us slowly descended to the limestone floor to examine the contents of the satchel. Bree and Oliver both looked on pensively as I began to open the leather satchel. It had taken years of periodically searching through the rubble of Ben's office to find this prize. Ben was not just a farmer. He had been a brilliant research scientist. He had written papers on edaphology and had received his PhD in the study of soil. If we had not had the cave system, the fresh water, and his research we never would have survived for 8 years in a literal hole in the ground.

We subsisted on canned food and stream water for a couple of years. The first time I ventured out to find his office and search through the rubble, I had located his soil studies which utilized florescent lighting. We had tried to plant the corn we had stored in the cave and with treatment of the soil and batteries running the florescent lights we had managed to grow a very small garden underground. It took us years to cultivate the soil and begin to reap the rewards of our work. After all these years our battery supply was almost gone. We used the light of day when we could, but it was so dangerous above. The ones that were left were starving just like us. Most were only able to survive by stealing and killing others. We had been working for a couple of years on a project to convert corn oil into an energy source that might be used to generate light for our gardens. None of this would have been possible without Ben's research papers. We were recently devastated to have lost our whole corn crop to a flood from the stream. We had enough food to live for another six months or so but losing our only source of potential fuel had left us without hope for a future. Every precious item we found in Ben's destroyed office might be the answer to our problem. Each item I brought back was our potential salvation.

My hands shook as I pulled a small box out of the satchel. Both Bree and Oliver held their breath. They both knew what the loss of our corn crop meant for our future. I carefully opened the small box only to reveal something that did not even seem real. It was something my mind could not comprehend after 8 years of struggling to survive.

"It's a stupid piece of jewelry!" Bree jumped up and started to walk away.

In my hand was a rather large locket. It was in the shape of a heart. It was silver with pearl inlay. It was so large I actually thought it was close to true in size. It was almost the size of my closed fist.

"Can we use it as a weapon?" Oliver said, smiling.

"No! I am sure dad had a reason for giving this to us." I said as I managed to pry open the locket and on either side where pictures. There was a picture of Bree and a picture of Ollie. These were taken not long before the eruption. I felt a wave of emotion. My eyes glazed over and I wiped a tear.

"What a waste of time." Bree yelled behind me as she had moved back to gathering buckets of water for the growing room.

"Bree, it is not a waste of time. Your father loved us." I said becoming progressively annoyed.

"Dad left us!" She yelled again dropping her water bucket. The splash spreading through the room and soaking Oliver's feet. I found myself counting to 10 in my mind to avoid saying something I would regret. After all, they will both still children. I could not expect them to have adult emotions, not yet.

Bree stormed over to me and grabbed the locket. She held it in her hand and waved her arms wildly.

"This is what he left us? I stupid picture locket?" She yelled growing increasingly angry.

"It may have been something he planned to give me." I yelled back finally losing my temper.

"Gee, thanks dad!" Bree screamed toward the ceiling. She raised her arm in the air and hurled the locket towards the wall with a speed that was astonishing.

All three of us watched in astonishment as the locket smashed against the hard limestone and fractured into tiny pieces. Small pieces of shrapnel scattered around the room. My vision was clouded with rage as Bree began to cry. I walked over to her and embraced her.

"Mom!" Oliver spoke with urgency.

"Hold on kid." I said as I stroked Bree's hair trying to calm her down.

"Mom!" Oliver yelled.

"What?" I turned towards Oliver irritated. His hands were full of tiny pieces of the locket. He was holding them up towards me.

"I know honey. It is broken." I tried to muster a smile.

"No, mom." Oliver was speechless. His hands shaking.

"Ollie?" I let go of Bree to tend to Oliver. I thought he might faint.

"Seeds. Mom, dad left us seeds. This is corn." Tears started to stream down his face.

"Oh my God!" Bree and I walked over and looked at the small seeds in his hands. We would have to start over. We were accustomed to starting over. This was our chance. Ben had given us one last chance to survive.

Short Story
2

About the Creator

Becky Byrns

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