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We thought we were ready for flu season in Year Three. People stockpiled food preparing to stay put until the disease ran its course. The National Guard deployed to hospitals, and triage centers were set up before a single person fell ill. The general feeling was that we had prepared adequately for the coming disaster. Rumors had been started about the disease losing its virulence. Year One we lost half the people of Zero Year, we foolishly assured ourselves that the death rate would decline again.
History of a Changed World - Angus T. Moss
TILLY WENT ONTO THE front terrace where she could see out over the fields. The setting sun threw a few long bars of light through the thick blanket of clouds. An unseasonably cool breeze raised goose bumps along her arms. A harbinger of winter. She knew they weren’t ready, but if the weather cooperated, they should have plenty of time to bring in enough food to get them through.
The door behind her clanged opened. She recognized his footsteps as he came up beside her.
“Problem?” Martin asked.
“Where are they?”
“Who?”
“The refugees. We put out the flyers. People should be arriving.” Tilly turned her gaze to the long driveway.
“Just because we invited them doesn’t mean they want to come.”
“Were we too vague?” Tilly asked. They had wrestled with the wording. If they said they had food to share, it would only invite trouble. Couldn’t sound too eager or too friendly. They wanted people to know that High Meadow was a safe place, but they didn’t want to open themselves to attack.
“The men are still posting them. Too soon to know.”
At Angus’s urging, Martin had sent a team of men out, in one of the newly acquired black vans, to post flyers at the closed train stations. They were also to keep eyes out for open stations and extra supplies.
“Any word from Creamery?”
Martin grunted a negative.
“Should we worry?”
Martin huffed out an ambiguous chuckled. “You will always worry, Tilly. Should you worry about the men? Not yet. I’ll let you know.”
“Very well,” she said with resignation. Martin had no answers for her, but he didn’t have any new problems either. She should be content with that.
“Have you named the kittens yet?”
A smile tugged at Tilly’s mouth. She had forgotten what a blessing pets could be, especially babies. The children were delighted by the kittens. They were a lovely distraction while the adults worried themselves over the harder things, like surviving the winter. Several names had come up immediately, and it had almost come to blows over who won. “Pumpkin for the orange one. I suggested Marmalade, but none of the children knew what that was.” Tilly bit her lip, forcing down the ever-hovering grief for her lost world. “Um, then Stripy, Shadow and Snowball.”
“How unique,” Martin mumbled.
“There was quite a brawl,” she said with a chuckle. “I almost called you in for back up.”
“If that’s the worst danger in a day, I’d be happy with it.”
The words struck Tilly silent. Martin hadn’t meant to be cruel, but he had reminded her of how precarious things were in this world. They could be attacked by raiders at any time. A storm could destroy the crops or kill the chickens. Every normal day was a gift, and they shouldn’t look beyond the present. Life was difficult when you forced yourself to drink in short sips, but she didn’t have the luxury of only living for today. She had to plan their winter with no solid numbers. Regardless of her lists and preparations, refugees would arrive when they would. She couldn’t make them come any sooner.
“You’re shivering. Looks like a storm coming in.”
Martin put a warm hand on her shoulder making her realize how chilled she’d gotten. “We had no warning. I hope that means that it won’t be a bad one.”
Martin raised his eyes to the sullen gray sky. Darker clouds sat on the horizon. “Won’t be here for awhile.”
Tilly heard Harlan calling to the horses in the new pasture. They came when he whistled like obedient dogs. “They must know they need shelter at night,” she said aloud.
“The horses? They’re smart. They know where they’re safe.”
“Chickens and horses and now cats,” Tilly said hoping Martin didn’t hear the longing in her voice. “It’s almost like the world is sorting itself out, finally.”
“Don’t.” Martin said in a harsh voice.
Tilly turned, finding a dark look on his face, his brown eyes narrow with anger. “What?”
“Don’t fall into that trap. Nothing will ever be normal again. The minute you let your guard down, we’ll all be dead.” He turned abruptly, marching into the building.
She looked back to the sky, seeking a glimpse of the fading light, but it had all gone.