Earth has been turned into a dangerous wasteland by a mysterious event, called The Impact. Monsters roam the contaminated forests. The few survivors hide behind the high, concrete walls of the shelters.
There is only one man, unwilling to give up h...
"It is so cuuute. I can't see it, but I just know that it's damn cute," Chris coos, running his fingers through the thick, soft plumage of a large, white hen, patiently snuggling on his lap. He is sitting cross-legged on a small patch of grass in front of the roost, looking like someone who has just won the lottery. "I adore chubby, fluffy chickens. No, I actually love all kinds of chicken. You are a sweetheart, aren't you? Thank you for the eggs, darling... Ouch! Did you just peck my finger?"
He sucks on the reddish spot to ease the sting and starts cackling and stroking the sly bird's head. His face lights up with delight, like a child who just got their first pet.
"Nooo," I grin, unable to resist his heartwarming enthusiasm. "Charlotte never bites. She is always very well behaved. It was a kiss, I'm sure. I think this is love at first sight."
"Yes, it is," the boy keeps giggling and places an affectionate kiss between the hen's wings. This liberty seems to cross poor Charlotte's last boundary and her tolerance runs out. The annoyed bird instantly lets out a series of indignant clucks and awards the impudent admirer with a pretty strong kick. Chris only laughs harder. "Fine! I got the hint. The feelings are not exactly mutual. Off you go now. Your friends must be missing you. Baddie! Dee, how many chickens do you have? Did you name them all? Charlotte. No way! You should've called this one Medusa."
"Twenty five hens and five roosters and this is the only one with a name. She is so fierce that I decided she deserved one. Alright, let's get you out of here before any of the roosters finds out what a flirt you are." I take his hand to help him stand up and show him the way out of the narrow enclosure where the chickens are kept.
"That was amazing," Chris sighs. "Our farm revived. Like a dream come true. It won't bring my parents back, but still means so much to me. Hope. Purpose. I can't wait to get to work. We are going to be such a great team."
"You don't seem to mind the exquisite aroma here and it is more than obvious that you have a soft spot for birds. So, I am assigning the hen house to you. Congratulations! You will start in two weeks. The first feeding is at eight in the morning. You pour enough corn to last them during the day. I'll show you the right quantity. When they line up around the feeders, you collect the eggs and clean. The second feeding is at six in the evening, so that they have enough time to get back into the shed before dusk. When all the birds are settled, you immediately bolt the door. Don't forget to check carefully for uninvited visitors inside. You must do it every time, as well as watch out for cracks in the boards and newly dug holes under the walls. A cunning fox that lives nearby tries its luck every night, even though I regularly leave food on its path along the hedge. The rascal is certainly not hungry, but that won't stop it from stealing a chicken."
"You feed a fox?" Chris exclaims. "Dee, honestly, how are you such a nice guy? Isn't it hilarious? No gratitude, huh? You take care of it every day and the little thief would still break into your hen house. Ha ha ha, I like it. Is it tame? Does it let you pet it?"
"Of course not," I laugh out. "I am not that crazy. It would bite my hand off, if I try. Wild animals trust no one. Life is too tough."
"Yeah, true," he agrees. "I can actually start helping you right away. I can do many things without having to see."
"Of course you can." I nudge him slightly to the side to prevent him from crashing into a pile of branches I forgot to remove from the front porch lawn. "With some practice, you will learn everything. Your eyesight isn't the problem, but the burns are still fresh. Animal husbandry and agriculture is not a clean job. We cannot risk any infections, especially in this hot weather. You'll stay inside where it's air-conditioned until I'm sure it's safe for you to work."
"Fine," Chris sulks, though he knows I am right. "By the way, I wanted to ask you. How do you have unlimited hot water in the bathroom, a working stove and air conditioning? And how the hell do you charge your phone? Obviously, there is electricity in the house. But how is it possible?"
"A generator," I answer. I see no point in hiding the truth. It would be much better to tell him everything I can, keeping my mouth shut only about what he won't be able to understand anyway. It would be great if he stops asking questions, but it is not something I can count on. He has proven to be one of the most inquisitive people I've encountered.
"Oh," Chris's face is all curiosity now. I should have seen it coming. "What kind of generator? What energy source does it use - solar panels, wind turbine, or maybe diesel? Wow! You must be really important if the military gave you fuel to electrify your house. Electricity is a luxury even in the shelters. I remember that it was available for only four hours a day."
"I use an... umm... unconventional power source," I mumble. "It's the other way around. I supply the military. I do not take anything from them. All the food the farm produces as well. Everything goes through them to the shelters. Diesel, Gas or any other type of fuel, as you know them, no longer exist. Whatever was left from before The Impact has been exhausted."
"God help us!" Chris hides his face in his palms. "What exactly happened to this planet? They never told us. The Impact. What is it? You are a scientist, right? You know what it's all about, don't you? There is absolutely no way you wouldn't know. It seems the world didn't change so much, but it just stopped functioning normally, like a machine which fails to perform the task it was designed for. There is nothing wrong with it on the outside, but a tiny gear is stuck in its engine, in the very core. This small part won't move and no one can reach deep enough to fix it anymore."
"I am sorry!" I turn him abruptly towards me and squeeze him in my arms as hard as I can. "I am so sorry, Chris! I will tell you. I promise. I'll tell you everything. But not now. Be patient. Please, give me some time. Two weeks. I ask for two weeks only, until you heal."
"No! Dee, I am the one who should be sorry," he mutters in the crook of my neck. "I don't have the right to demand answers. It's just that I haven't met anyone to whom I can ask those questions before. You saved my life and I am grateful. You gave me hope. I didn't mean to upset you. I will wait. Ok? Are you angry with me?"
"I can never be angry with you." I kiss his forehead and stroke his hair until he calms down.
Chris leans his chin on my shoulder. His lips press to my ear as he whispers, "No more questions. Two weeks in paradise. We'll be farmers. I will imagine that the world is like before and we are happy."
Suddenly, I feel it. It's barely perceptible, but can't be mistaken. My heart skips a beat.
A tiny, wavering spark of light amid the impenetrable darkness that surrounds me.
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