Authors: Rachel Fisher
Tags: #apocalyptic, #young adult, #edens root, #dystopian, #rachel fisher
Eden's Root
Eden’s Root
Let Food Be Thy Medicine and Thy Medicine Be Food - Hippocrates
Text and image copyright © 2011 by Rachel E. Fisher. All rights reserved.
Visit my website at www.rachelefisher.com
First eBook Edition: December 2011
Published by Rachel E. Fisher at Smashwords
The year is 2033, and the world hovers on the edge of explosion as unexplained crop deaths lead to severe global food shortages. In the United States, the Sickness is taking lives slowly, creeping its way into every family. Thirteen-year old Fi Kelly has already faced the Sickness in her own family, toughening her at a young age. But when her dying father makes a shocking confession, Fi realizes that her toughness will be pushed to its absolute limits. Saddled with an impossible secret and the mission of saving her little sister, Fi sets out to transform herself into the warrior that she must become to survive the coming collapse. Along the way, she will discover that evil can be accidental...and that love can be intentional.
This dedication goes first to my husband, who patiently waited while I dove into the deep end of something utterly new and exciting. Thank you for your willingness to support all of my endeavors, however questionable
Also, I wish to dedicate this to those first willing guinea pigs who were kind enough to read three hundred pages of novel as a favor. Thank you…
To my mother, Barbara, who loves the English language more than anyone else I have ever met, for her unceasing faith in her children.
To my father and avid science-fiction fan, Joe, for his encouragement and knowledge.
To my kind mother-in-law, Beverly, for her time and support.
Copyright
Dedication
Cleanliness is Next to Godliness
Under the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over the garden nights,
Death, the gray Mocker,
Comes and whispers to you
As a beautiful friend
Who remembers.
A Special Treat
----------- Fi -----------
Thirteen gaunt faces stared at Fi Kelly with hopeful eyes as they lined up in the dusty farmhouse kitchen, cups in hand. Sunlight weaved through cracks in the wooden shutters over the windows, painting the gathering in dim stripes. Fi held the can of fruit cocktail aloft and the group murmured in excitement. At the front of the line, Kiara and Zoe stood holding hands. Kiara’s deep blue eyes bulged in anticipation as Fi opened the can carefully, making sure not to spill any of the sweet syrup inside.
“Oh, oh, oh!” Kiara wrung her small hands together. “This is going to be sooooooo good.” Fi’s smile was bittersweet. At least Kiara and the others would get a treat, she thought, before it all had to change again. Well, some of the others anyway. She shook her head as she examined the Family lined up in the small room. As the youngest in the Family, Zoe and Kiara were always fed first. The others all followed in order according to the Family Food Laws. Members of the Family were fed according to need:
Healthy weaned infants and children up to thirteen.
Healthy pregnant or lactating women.
Healthy adults, fourteen to thirty-nine, including the disabled, so long as they can contribute something of value to the Family.
Otherwise healthy adults with an infection (cold, flu)
Healthy seniors (anyone over forty) and Diseased children
Diseased adults or seniors
As Fi grabbed the spoon to dole out the rations of fruit cocktail, her gaze drifted to the lone figure sitting on the living room couch. Maggie didn’t even bother to get into the line anymore when she knew she wouldn’t get any of the food. She thought getting into line only hurt Fi more, so she rested on the couch and watched. Though just forty-two years old, Fi’s mother was worn and grey. The weight of the Sickness settled into every wrinkle around her tired blue eyes. Her slight frame shivered, despite her warm coat. She needed this meal, Fi knew, but it was not right to give it to her. Everyone, including Maggie, knew that she would die whether she ate today or not. It was cruel, but Maggie wouldn’t have it any other way.
When the Famine first began, the violence was horrific. Hunger and desperation drove people insane. By now tens of millions had died, numbers too big to truly understand. That was why their Family enacted the Food Laws…to keep the peace and give the greatest chance of survival to all Members. Fi turned back to her little sister Kiara’s excited face. A mirror of her Maggie’s face before she’d grown ill, Kiara had always been a breathtaking little girl. Though her beauty was still visible, Fi could see the starvation taking its toll. Where once there was baby fat, now there was the lean reality of a child growing up too quickly with no softness in her life or future. Thank goodness for small treats like this one, Fi thought.
Her mother nodded as Fi scooped out the first serving of fruit, the small colored blobs floating in sugar syrup. With sixteen total Members in her Family now, Fi could only give a little taste, and she knew that it would only get to the first seven or eight if she could make it stretch. With a sigh she deposited the scoop into Kiara’s cup, managing to find a smile at her excited whoop. Typically, Fi would have skipped this small feast herself because she was strong and had learned long ago to function on very little. But with coming events she was going to need some strength. The Family had voted to give more to raiders before they had to go out.
She allowed herself one bit of syrupy fruit and took her cup into the family room with the others. “Oh my God,” she murmured as she slurped her small bite.
The syrup and fruit filled her mouth for an instant and then slipped down her throat. Similar small moans occurred around her, quietly suppressed out of respect for those who received nothing. As she savored the flavor, Fi felt the immediate rush of the sugar. With the buzz of it in her bloodstream she got up to close and lock the main shutters for the night. She started to pull them together and then paused to gaze at the sunset. When she closed her eyes, she could feel the subtle change coming. The breeze carried a tiny promise of warmth and the subtle smell of green as new, budding leaves unfurled. She took a long, deep breath and locked the shutters before turning back.
In the two main rooms of the farmhouse Members of the Family crouched, kneeled, or laid on mats or sleeping bags. Some chatted quietly or played cards. Others got ready to take sentry duty on the perimeter, cleaning and checking their weapons, discussing shifts. Sean who looked up from his weapon and met her gaze. His hair was getting shaggy, she noticed. It was time for another haircut for everyone who wanted one. Sean smiled at her and gave a little salute with his two front fingers and she smiled in return. His humor always lifted her mood.
Fi found herself becoming nostalgic as she looked around. For the past six months this little farmhouse had functioned as a stable home of sorts. They’d settled here for the winter, a rabble whose loyalty to one another had made them a true Family. The winter had been hard. All of them were thinner, sicker, and weaker, but the stability the Home had provided had been a blessing. No one was going to like leaving, Fi realized, but there was no choice. She winced as she thought of her mother, worried about how she would make it. It didn’t matter she thought, as she pushed that thought out of her mind. There was no choice. If anything, Maggie was a constant reminder of why they couldn’t stay. No, Fi thought, she couldn’t watch them all wither away to the Sickness one by one. She had to give them a chance.
It was time to leave.
When the World was Young
----------- Fi -----------
Morning sunlight streamed into the warm kitchen, its fingers sliding across the wooden butcher block and reflecting off the terra cotta backsplash. Thirteen-year old Fi swung her feet and dug into her bowl of Cheerios, eating quickly because she was late. Her ginger curls fell forward into her face and she brushed them back impatiently. Her mother stood on the other side of the butcher block, stirring half and half into her coffee while she scanned the news on her tablet. Her father Mike slurped his own coffee, his gaze fixed on the TV screen on the counter.
Fi was glad now that he was no longer working on his super-secret classified NASA project. Though he’d been very excited about the opportunity, it had meant him being away from home every month for the past four years. She had missed him terribly while he was gone. He leaned against the table, wearing his usual professorial uniform of khakis and a wrinkly button down with a blazer. Fi smiled. His fashion sense left a lot to be desired. Though to be fair, she thought as she munched, some were critical of hers. Today’s choice had made her particularly happy, even if her mother had choked when she’d seen her.
“What’s wrong?” Fi had asked.
Maggie had simply shaken her head. “Blast from the past,” she’d responded.
Now, Fi looked down at her clothes again and laughed. She wore a giant ripped white sweatshirt over a neon green tank top and tight, dark jeans. Striped neon socks. Big bow holding back her hair. Of course it was very 1980s, but it was fun. Well, at least she thought it was fun. A sudden noise from the television drew her attention. A crowd of angry protesters surrounded a news reporter who appeared to be having trouble even keeping her feet. A sea of hands grabbed at her as men shouted to the camera and gestured wildly.
“
And so the people here are not really rebels as we have been told previously,”
the woman shouted into her microphone, gesturing behind her. “
They are mostly men with families who say that they have no other choice, the bread lines are too long and their children are hungry. Here, let me take a moment so you can listen
.” She raised her microphone into the air above the crowd. They chanted angrily for a moment and the reporter turned back to the camera.
“As I said before, the crowd simply keeps saying, ‘No Bread, No Oil’ over and over again. They believe that the United States and Europe are sitting on more food stores than they are willing to share and letting ‘poor people’ suffer needlessly
.
They say that is why some groups have attacked the oil fields, rather than the religious motives previously reported.”