Morgan and Lucas crossed back through the field that they had landed in. The dome ship was long gone, but it had made an impressive dent in the tall grass.
The next stand of trees were also fruit and nut, but it was as if time had advanced here because some of the apples looked ripe enough to eat. The purple plums were definitely good. Morgan plucked one from a low-hanging branch and bit down, savoring the tart, juicy meat.
Beyond that was yet another field, and finally a wide stream. Patches of cattails grew along both banks, the roots of which were starchy like potatoes. Morgan had heard that the fluffy seed portion could also be eaten, but she couldn’t remember how it was supposed to be cooked. Why hadn’t she packed an eatable plant guide in her bug-out bag?
Because it was in the mountain cabin, and that’s where she had always planned to go if things got rough. That had been a mistake. If she lived through this, and somehow got home, she promised she would take survival planning seriously.
“Holy Hell, look at the size of these fish!” Lucas exclaimed, pointing.
What she had taken for shadows in the water were actually lazily moving fish. Lucas picked up a flat river stone and tossed it in to see them scatter to different areas of the stream. Frogs plopped into the water at their approach (eatable), and bugs danced over the surface (probably eatable, but most likely there to feed the fish and frogs).
The stream itself was crystal clear down to the gravel. Morgan dipped her hands in and washed her face. It was cool and refreshing and reminded her that she hadn’t taken a bath or shower in days. If Lucas hadn’t been there, she would have taken off her clothes and gone for a swim.
Lucas must have been thinking along the same lines. He grinned at her and yelled, “Cannon ball!” Then, with a leap, he tucked his legs under and plunged in, creating a huge splash.
“Lucas!” Morgan shrieked, half laughing as the stupid boy popped up to the surface and grinned at her. “C’mon, Morgan! The water’s fine!”
She, at least, had the good sense to take off her shoes before she waded in. Curious fish bumped at her legs, more numerous than she was used to and apparently unsure of what this human creature was. The water was as cold as if it were snowmelt, though there were no mountains in sight.
Her analytical thoughts were driven right out of her head as Lucas dunked her under.
After that, it was on.
For a few minutes, they both might as well have been ten years old again, laughing and splashing one another. Morgan no longer had size or reach over Lucas, but she managed to trip him up by swimming under and hooking his leg.
Soon, the cold water got to them. They flopped back up on a flat, sun-warmed rock, staring up at the blue, blue sky.
I should say something, she thought, but wasn’t sure what. Maybe, what happened to us? But she knew. Lucas had realized what a freak she was and found cooler friends. It happened.
They said nothing.
Lucas’s fingers tangled with her own and they lay there, warming up again.
* * *
Eventually, they had to get up. The first sun had risen to high noon, and now the second, oranger sun was rising over the horizon as well. It was getting really hot, and super bright.
Besides, everyone should be told where the stream was.
Morgan did show Lucas how to dig up cattail roots, so they would have something to show the others on the way back. They also came across an orange tree heavy with ripe fruit. They filled her backpack to the brim, along with her water container. It wouldn’t be enough for everyone, but hopefully some people would share.
While recrossing the field where they had landed, something metallic caught Morgan’s eye. She grabbed Lucas’ shoulder, stopping him. “What’s that?”
He squinted. “Piece of the ship fell off, maybe?”
Exchanging a look, they cautiously moved forward. It wasn’t a piece of the ship. Standing waist high was a metallic cylinder with a very familiar looking port.
“It’s a… cake machine, maybe?” Lucas said and waved his hand over it. As with the Giving Tree, the cylinder spat out a waxy cake about half the size and width than what they had been given in the dome.
“Maybe in case we’re too stupid to figure out how to forage for ourselves?” Morgan shrugged and broke off a piece to pop in her mouth. Yup, it was the same tasteless stuff as in the dome. Yuck. She would much rather eat the oranges and cattail roots.
“They seem like they want to keep us alive,” Lucas said, though there was doubt heavy in his voice.
Morgan looked at him. “Why doesn’t that make me feel warm and fuzzy inside?”
* * *
There had been a definite change by the time they got back to the main group. Several of the cargo containers had been unloaded, the supplies covered with a tarp. Most of the boys had stripped themselves of their shirts under the hot suns. A few of the bolder girls rolled up their own to hook under their bras.
A smile spread across Lucas’ face at the sight of the girls. Glancing at him, Morgan tried not to blush.
Her clothes were still damp from the water, but the two suns did make it hot outside. It might be cooler if I did that... if I didn’t care about from sunburn, she thought.
Most people looked hot and sweaty from carrying supplies out of the cargo containers, and sharp eyes spotted the oranges right away. By the time Morgan and Lucas made it to where Colton and the others were sitting in the shade of their own container, they’d attracted a lot of notice.
“We found a stream,” Lucas announced, lobbing an orange to Colton, who caught it. “And a few ripe fruit trees. Fish, too.”
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Colton grinned and raised his orange in a salute. “You think the water’s good to drink, Morgan?”
“It’s running and doesn’t look scummy. I still think we should boil it before drinking.” Diving right in had been dumb, in hindsight. It wasn’t like she had swum with her mouth open, but she could have still ingested some. No help for it now. “There’s also a weird alien cylinder thing in the middle of the next field. It spits out more cakes, just like the trees did in the dome.”
“Good. How far away is the stream?”
“Two fields over directly to the east.”
Colton nodded and snapped his fingers at two of his friends. “Max, Tyreese. Why don’t you get us some more fruit?”
To her surprise, the two lumbered off—Timberly trailing behind Max, probably wanting to identify where the ripe trees were, herself.
Colton sat back, looking content to watch people clear out boxes under his direction. Lucas grabbed a nearby box and started idly sorting through hammers and drills which were still in their blister packs.
Uncomfortable with just sitting around, Morgan rose to her feet to help clear out the nearest container. If they could get it empty enough, it wouldn’t be a bad place to sleep.
She looked back once or twice and caught Colton directing people one way or another. Lucas sat next to his friend, reinforcing his orders when needed. A shiver crawled up her spine, and she wasn’t sure why.
* * *
A few weeks later
* * *
Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. Give a man a mountain of tools and fields of orchards, he’ll create a Moonshine still, Morgan thought.
It was all Derrick “Donuts” Wilson’s idea. Back at school, Donuts had been one of the stoners. Morgan knew him mostly in their AP world history class. He obviously had some kind of brain because within days of landing he’d arranged buckets, tubing and parts from one of the concrete mixers (they had no concrete, but three mixers. Thanks, aliens.) and started experimenting with fruit fermentation.
He called it “Prison wine on Planet X”. Morgan called it a gigantic waste of time.
She was in the minority. Everyone else was thrilled.
Soon, Donuts had more people offering to help than he could use, and the sweet, syrupy smell of cooking fruit and sugar water was always thick in the air around the village.
Sighing, Morgan hefted the rabbit she’d managed to snare overnight over her shoulder and walked in.
The cargo crate field had changed in the last few weeks. Everyone slept in empty freight containers at night. The supplies were spread all over the place, except for a few nailed together pieces of wood.
Every few days, someone would brag they were going to build a house. Their ambition usually lasted until the suns rose and it got too hot to continue. Then their project was abandoned and whoever became inspired next wanted to start from scratch.
It was a waste of resources. It wasn’t like there was a sawmill around to create new planks from logs.
Maybe people knew that if they did manage to create something, they wouldn’t be able to keep it. Colton and his group ended up with the best for themselves. Every time.
And I’m part of the problem, she thought for the hundredth time.
Colton was smart enough to gather in anyone who was useful. Morgan was one such person, and hanging with his group meant she ate better and slept in a double-wide container with floors thick with wheat bundled up like rushes.
One of the girls, Jacquelyn, used to cosplay and knew all about sewing. Soon, she had garden twine tied around wheat bundles. Cattail fluff was stripped from the reed, where it fluffed out. This was pushed into bundles of what used to be people’s coats. Now they were as soft as pillows.
Jacquelyn even knew how to use the skins off the rabbits Morgan trapped, and already had projects planned for the hides of deer—if anyone could figure out how to bring one down without a gun or bows and arrows.
People smiled and waved at Morgan as she entered the field of cargo boxes—now called The Village— eyeing her snared rabbit. Well, they could go catch their own if they wanted one so badly.
A few had asked her about snares, but trap-making wasn’t as easy as it looked. Morgan had offered to teach, but no one had been that interested. Not when there was endless fishing, fruit and nuts on the vine, and vegetables ripe for the picking.
Some called this planet Eden. Morgan knew there was no such thing.
The first sun was halfway up the horizon, but most of Colton’s friends were still asleep. Morgan sat in front of the front door to their container and set to work gutting her catch. The entrails went into the fish-bait bucket, the thin hide set aside for Jacquelyn, and the meat and bones thrown into the ever-boiling stewpot. (Which used to be a metal bucket in another life.)
Alone, the rabbit wouldn’t enough for everyone in the group, which ranged from fifteen to twenty as people came and left, but the stew helped stretch the meat. The broth was a welcome change from a fruit diet.
Morgan poked at the water with a trowel they used as a cooking tool and realized there weren’t any vegetables in the stew at all. That was Nevaeh’s job, but she’d been… up last night with Colton. They’d been kinda loud about it.
The smell of cooking rabbit roused a few sleepers. Lucas wandered over, sleepy-eyed with his dark hair mussed. “Hey,” he said around a jaw-cracking yawn. “You’re up early.”
“It’s like eleven in the morning.”
He made a show of looking around. “I don’t see a clock around here.” Then he sat, bumping her shoulder in a friendly way. “What’s with the face?”
“I’m not making a face,” she grumped.
He stared at her, one eyebrow raised.
Okay, yes, she was totally making a face. “Nevaeh didn’t gather vegetables again, and I really wanted some onion in this soup. Some wild carrots, too. There’s a patch growing a hundred feet from here. She could have easily done it.”
“If you want them so bad, why don’t you go do it?”
“Because I’m tired of doing her job.” Morgan poked morosely at the rabbit soup.
“Well,” Lucas said, leaning back, “she and Colton were a little busy last night. You might have noticed.”
She winced. “Do they have to do that where everyone can hear them?” It was weird enough sleeping with boys in the same “room”, practically sharing the same pillows. Lucas slept right by her side. She had woken up warm and comfortable, pressed up against him more mornings than not.
Listening to Colton and Nevaeh’s… intimate moments with Lucas a few inches away made her embarrassed and uncomfortable.
“I think they want us to hear them,” Lucas mused, then laughed aloud at the expression on Morgan’s face. “Maybe he’s trying to give the rest of us pointers?”
“I don’t think it’s funny,” she said but her scowl cracked a little. Lucas was sitting close enough all she would have to do was lean a little to be pressed against him again. Maybe he would even put his arm around her shoulders. The morning breeze was a little chilly.
Though she wanted to, she couldn’t make herself do it.
I’m a total coward, she thought.
Soon, they were joined by the others. The rabbit had been boiling long enough to be fully cooked.
Colton dipped his bowl—which used to be a mixing cup— in. Blowing on it, he took a sip. His expression darkened. “This tastes like ass.”
“You’d know,” muttered Max, Timberly’s boyfriend.
“No, seriously,” Colton said. “What’s wrong with the soup?”
“It’s just water and rabbit,” Morgan said. “No one gathered anything else to season the stew.”
Nevaeh shrugged at Colton’s look. “I didn’t feel like it. Make Jacquelyn do it. She never has to get the veggies.”
“Hey!” the girl yelped. She sat just on the outside of the ring around the fire. Like a lot of the outsiders, she usually got her portion after everyone was done with theirs. Morgan suspected she would be one of them, if she weren’t supplying the meat. “I’m the one sewing everything.”
“And now you can gather, too.” Nevaeh’s smile was bright, but her eyes were as hard as flint.
Lucas stood, smiling easily. “I can do it. We need carrots, onion, and what else? Garlic?”
“Deep dish pizza. Extra pepperoni,” Colton drawled. He always made the same joke, and as always most of the guys laughed around him.
Lucas flipped him off.
“I’ll help,” Morgan said, even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t be doing Nevaeh’s chores. But, apparently being Colton’s little minx was a full-time job.
Standing, Morgan sent a glare around the group. “There had better be enough rabbit for me and Lucas when I get back.”
Some of the guys “Oohed” like she had said something challenging or unreasonable.
Colton, though, nodded. Morgan didn’t like him but he knew how to manage people. There would be plenty for them both when they returned.