The Green Rising

Chapter Thirty-two

Two weeks later, Rosie and Maggie played tag upstairs, their squeals filling the house with energy, and enough noise to have me on the verge of a full-blown headache. “Come on, girls. Can you please settle down?”

“We want to go outside, Mommy,” Rosabel said.

I peered over the rims of my wireframes. “It’s too windy. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Jessa’s outside.” Maggie jutted her lower lip.

“She’s hunting, and if we’re lucky, she’ll bring us back something for dinner.” I returned my attention to an old thriller I’d found in the attic a couple of days ago.

“I hope it’s not rabbit again,” Rosie said, “or squirrel.” She made a bleching sound.

All three girls had been well behaved, but since the snow had melted to mud, they were becoming accustomed to going outside a couple times each day. The woods was their playground offering countless hiding places and an infinity of construction parts for forts, dolls, and toy guns. We were laughing, smiling, and interacting better; we could almost pass for happy, except for Luc’s absence and our country being under attack looming over us constantly.

The day after Carrie had died, Jessa had asked to go hunting. She'd gone for a couple of hours each day and she'd brought something back each time. She was especially happy and seemed to relish her newfound role of provider for us. We all turned up our noses at eating rabbits and squirrels, but if it kept us from tapping into our supplies, we'd eat the squeal of a pig.

Abi had been on television thrice since the Parrishes’ deaths. Luc was still missing and I would do a fist pump each time his name was listed among the fugitives. What once took the general an hour was now being read through in twenty minutes as more ‘criminals’ were being reported, and ‘good citizens’ rewarded for their tattling. The Order had shown a family of ‘do-gooders’ earning their own one-room cabin still on-site at a reprogramming station in Alabama, but away from the prying eyes of the other new recruits. At least they were together. It didn’t matter that they didn’t stop at selling their own souls.

“Green has risen” had become the words heard repeatedly throughout Abi’s broadcasts, and the footage of green robes attending assemblies in DC, Chicago, Seattle, Miami, even Lafayette, Indiana, had me convinced that she was right. Green had risen, and it was going to crush anyone who didn't belong.

It was especially painful when footage of the Lafayette station was rolled. I’d hoped to see a cousin, uncle, or my dad as the mess hall came into focus, but I didn’t recognize anyone. Then again, anyone I knew was more likely to fight the greenies than join them. They were probably dead.

The stairs creaked, and light bobbed into the living room, breaking my reverie. “Did you shoot anything, Jess?”

“Two rabbits,” she answered to the girls’ chagrin. “I’m just kidding. Tom Turkey is going onto our plates tonight. We should have enough for tomorrow, too. It’s waiting downstairs to be cooked.”

Turkey! I hadn’t believed Luc when he said Jessa was a great shot with the bow and arrow, but she was proving me wrong each day. He would be so proud of her hunting prowess. “Wow. If you keep this up, we won’t have to worry about food. Good job, sweetie.”

I handed Rosabel and Jessa a turkey leg to share. "I know it's not quite Thanksgiving, but close." 

A hunk of meat hung out of Rosabel's mouth. "This is better than Thanksgiving." Maggie nodded in agreement as she chewed the sample I'd stripped off the leg we were sharing.

"So how did you find the turkey?" I asked. 

She waited until her mouth was empty to reply. "I pretty much just stumbled upon the thing. I heard it gobbling and I shot it.