Tim, a garbage handler in a post-apocalyptic bunker, loses the little he has. But then he finds Amy, the redhead with an attitude. Together, they will try to change the world they live in.
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Tim is one of those who shovel the shit and clean away th...
Be true and honest, and the Church will reward you.
The Manuals of the Bunker, Vol. 3, Verse 14
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We hadn't noticed when the rain stopped falling.
Nor when blue rifts had torn through the lid of clouds.
Now, I stood at the water after having quenched my thirst and washed. Amy squatted in the bushes.
I couldn't stop watching the landscape, reveling in its unbounded vastness. Before me, the land rose in a massive structure of rock, reaching for the clouds, its jagged peaks not quite touching them. Its flanks shone in brilliant colors of white, yellow, and gray where the sun caressed them, and displayed softer hues where it didn't.
At the base of the rock, the trees stood in every shade of green.
And between the trees and the rock, hidden from my view, the bunker's entrance was calling me.
None of the people below knew about this.
And my father and the craner were down there still, held captive by the bishop and his guards, waiting for trial and execution.
Today.
I had to go back there. Right now.
A finger of sunshine probed the grass between the trees and me. Gazillions of drops glittered under its touch.
Such an abundance of fresh water, vibrant plants, and warm light.
My pondering was cut short by something hitting my shoulder. A projectile tumbled into the grass at my feet. It was an apple.
I turned to find Amy standing by the water, the backpack slung over her shoulder. She was beaming, her gap-toothed smile wide enough for two.
My shoulder hurt where the apple had hit. I rubbed it. "Ow! What are you doing?"
"I'm feeding ye." She rubbed her hands, grinning. "Like when ye smacked me in the face with that bloody carrot."
It took me a moment to remember her and me in the upper cavern, in that garden, eating. I had thrown a carrot at her, expecting her to catch it, but it had hit her face.
And triggered her quick anger.
I picked up the fruit, and it brought me another memory, one involving another apple and another girl—and buttocks.
"Whatcha thinking?" Amy tilted her head and dug a finger in her ear to give it a scratch.
The clouds moved, and the light of the sun turned her hair into gleaming copper.
I shrugged. "Nothing in particular. It's just... everything's so beautiful up here."
"It is, right." She sucked her finger. "Better up here than down there. And it smells better than—" Her eyes widened, and she pointed towards the river.
