American library books » Other » Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 by Gandy, A. (read book .txt) 📕

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cases you could hardly tell there had been a home before. It’s both sad and impressive, to see nature taking back over what humanity once thought they owned. Turns out, we are nothing more than a blip on the earth’s timeline. Flaring brightly for a time, but now blinking out.

Then, out of the wildness the familiar sight of tended pastures comes into view. The road winds, and a wooden archway announces we’ve arrived at Branch Farms. The shuttle slowly bumps onto the narrow drive, and we meander back to a faded red farmhouse with clapboard siding. The pastures lining each side of the drive are dotted with various farm animals, all spread out and enjoying the sunshine. My heart warms at the sight, and the homesickness that wells up inside of me can’t be denied.

I look over at Patrick and find him perusing me instead of the surroundings. “Thank you for setting this up. It’s lovely here.”

He smiles, and the genuine warmth he has for me edges out the homesickness bit by bit. Perhaps home really is where the heart is, because there’s no denying that a piece of my heart has been claimed by the man in front of me. “I hoped it would make you happy, to get away from the resort for a while.” He leans in and kisses me on the forehead. “Come on, let’s go explore.”

I happily hop from my seat, and nudge a snoring Peter with my foot before walking to the front. “Some ferocious guard you are, sleeping on the job.”

He jolts to attention, and takes in our new location. “Hey, I had the late shift last night. And moving vehicles are my Achilles’ heel. Martinez was on duty for the drive.” He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand before standing and stretching. “I’m ready to go. What are we even doing at this place? It just looks like a farm, no different than back home.”

I sigh with contentment. “Exactly.”

I exit the bus with a pep in my step, and suck in a lungful of the sweet, grassy air. The pungent scent of farm animals mingles with it, and while many wouldn’t find that pleasant, for me it’s like coming home. I look around, greedily taking in the sights of this beautiful farming setup. They’ve got large pastures cross-fenced along the entire front, but behind the house I see several of the most enormous geometric greenhouses I’ve ever seen. They are all reflecting light, and at stark odds with the well-worn home they sit behind.

As I’m staring in awe at the behemoth glass structures, a woman with a graying bun atop her head and well-worn flannel shirt comes out of the house with the slap of the screen door. “Hey, y’all. You must be from the honeymoon resort,” she says in a friendly tone. “I’m Marie Branch, owner of the farm here and your tour guide today.” She walks right up and shakes hands with each of us in turn. Her grip is firm, and her hands are calloused. “My husband and son are around here somewhere, so I’ll introduce them when we run into them.”

“Hi Marie, nice to meet you! I’m Sadie, and this is Patrick, Peter, and Martinez. Hey, what’s your first name, actually?” It hits me that I don’t know it, but definitely should.

He snorts. “You can call me Martinez.”

“Okay, then, Martinez it is. Now, have any of you ever been to a farm before? Because we have some ground rules,” Marie says.

“Yes! Our family owns and runs a ranch out of Jackson Flats! I’m so excited to see your setup and what you do differently up here that we might be able to try out at home. Well, when we eventually make it home, anyways.” My happy chatter trails off with the reality rushing in that this is going to be a great day, but it’s still only one day.

This isn’t forever. Try to enjoy it while it lasts. I shake off my wave of gloom. Patrick worked his magic to make this day happen for me, and I’m going to enjoy every minute.

“Well, that’s fantastic! I wondered why we suddenly got a tour request, but that makes much more sense. We’ve been supplying the resort since they opened it, and never once had a couple come out to visit. We’re mighty glad to have you. Since you know what you’re doing, I’ll skip the boring stuff. So, if you run cattle at home, would you rather start off with the mobile milk shed or the hydroponic farm?”

I look over at Patrick with unfettered glee. “Hydroponics! Is that what’s in those massive shiny greenhouses?”

She chuckles at my childlike enthusiasm. “Sure is. Come on, we’ll start over there.”

✽✽✽

Our farm tour speeds by in a blur of sunshine, grass, and cutting-edge farm technology. The amount of knowledge Marie has about sustainability and food culture and preservation is mind-boggling, even to a rancher like me. We have to worry about herd genetics and diversity, but she’s got to keep hundreds of different plant species thriving, seeds to collect and store, and pollination rates to calculate that leave me reeling. It is hands down my favorite activity, outside of riding Hercules, that we’ve done in all the months of being away from home.

Then, as the icing on the cake, she served us an absolute feast for lunch with fresh-made bread, wild berry jam, and a pecan pie to finish everything off. I am stuffed to the gills, and enjoying my back porch rocking chair while I digest. Martinez wandered off to give Drake and Don a hand with some heavy lifting, and Marie told us to sit a spell while she catches up on office work, so it’s just the three of us on the back porch for the moment.

I take in the rolling pastures and clucking chickens and realize that this is the most alone we’ve been with Peter since he’s arrived. Living in the guest house is

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