Midnight by Anna Dove (books for new readers .TXT) 📕

established to continue mass food production during the transition. Haley was thrilled to be back in her childhood home. Lily, Elizabeth and Haley shared one bedroom, and the beds and cot were heavenly to sleep on. She knew the cracks and corners of this room, and it gave her a sublime sense of comfort to lay her head on the pillows and drift off to sleep to the sound of her parents voices downstairs. Here, safe and comfortable, she felt like she could stay forever, and she pushed away the nagging sense that they ought to consider returning to Washington. Elizabeth, too, seemed to be happy and comfortable, as did Carlos and Jack, and they all studiously avoided the topic, hoping that if no one brought it up, perhaps it would go away.

The next few days were spent very pleasantly. All the household members took turns chopping wood for fires, fishing, hunting, taking trips to the garden, drawing water from the neighborhood lake and boiling it to sterilize it, and performing the other household tasks. They ate at the dining room table and there was laughter, perhaps the first laughter that Haley had heard in four months. The newspapers came every day, one page updates on the societal progression and the state of various agencies and departments. In the evening, they would all congregate in the living room on the plush sofas and chairs, and Haley’s father would read aloud from The Tale of Two Cities in his deep, rich voice, in such a way that they could practically see Madame Defarge and Sydney Carton, feel the fog of London, and taste the wine spilt on the cobblestones.

The family was in possession of a little old radio, which had belonged to Haley’s great-great-grandmother during the Second World War. Haley’s brother Dayton, who before the attack had been a computer engineer, made it his personal project to repair the old thing, and within forty-eight hours he had done so spectacularly, so that they were now able to hear the 3pm broadcast from Washington clear as if the speaker had been standing right in front of them.

One week after their arrival, they had all gathered around the table and the radio, a practice which had become the daily tradition. The normal report was beginning, a male voice.

“Thank you all for listening today. The weather is still hot here in Washington, resting in the eighties with high humidity, and this is projected to remain the situation for at least another week. We encourage everyone to drink safe, clean water as much as possible during this heat, and in fact, that leads me in to another point.”

The reporter explained a new system, a water sterilization project that was expected to employ a few thousand people in the northern Virginia area and help distribute water to those who needed it. He then encouraged other cities to adopt the same practices, and gave a brief explanation of the system itself.

“Again, this system is purported to have--wait, just a minute, actually, I’m getting a piece of breaking news.”

For a moment, there was indistinguishable murmuring, and several different unintelligible voices that seemed to be vying for the reporter’s attention. This lasted for at least fifteen seconds. Then, his voice came back, but its positivity was gone, replaced with a gravity unmistakable even through the radio waves.

“My fellow Americans,” the reporter began, and paused, and sighed, and continued. “I have received a confirmation that is a blow, surely, to the hearts of all who hear. During the attack, our vice president was in Los Angeles, and it has now been confirmed that in fact he is no longer with us. We will cut short the rest of today’s program to commemorate this man’s service to our country. He will be sorely missed.”

The channel fell silent, as did everyone at the table. For a minute they sat, their eyes downcast.

“Well,” said Haley’s father at last, “I need to chop today’s firewood.” he stood up slowly and moved from the room towards the backdoor, and the others also moved to their various duties.

They had briefly and blissfully forgotten the terror of the attack, but like many pleasant things, it lasted but a moment.

20.  The Announcement

 

“Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?”

―

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Not since the turn of the century had newspapers been so popular. Mr. Granger, a thin, tall man with black scruffy beard and wide rimmed glasses that hung on his sharp nose, was now rich. He had begun a little newspaper company in Annapolis called the Maryland Times, and the company had been slowly suffocating under the increase of information consumption through the internet. However, two months ago he had been approached while sitting in his little corner office he rented, by two suited men that looked and smelled and acted like Washington D.C. They informed him that the federal government was contracting local papers to create a statewide distribution plan, and that his paper had been selected to participate in the program, and that he would be a fool to turn down the offer as no one else would be able to match it and it was a five-year contract and paid very much and did he have children? Yes? Well then, it would be doubly wise to participate as each child would receive a college stipend, provided that the colleges were back up and running by the time that their entrance would be appropriate. Mr. Granger expressed that he would be very interested in this contract, and that his children would be very grateful for the opportunity--yes yes, said the others, and pushed the contract towards him and pointed to the dotted line, upon which Mr. Granger hurriedly scribbled his name as if he was afraid that the contract would disappear if he waited