Prologue

They had been riding bikes or horses, being pulled in a buggy, or walking for months. Finding sanctuary was turning out to be extremely difficult, especially considering the state of most in the bedraggled party of pregnant women and animals.

The world had died. The combination of extreme heat, earthquakes, and storms had caused the world to disintegrate. The concept of life and what it would mean from now on was forever changed.

It all started six months ago in the summer of 2020. First were solar storms causing the degradation of most technology and setting off a chain reaction of events. The solar storms caused widespread panic and bedlam across the world. The only people not intrinsically affected were those completely isolated from technology.

Being isolated from the world allowed small pockets of tribes to survive the initial onslaught only to eventually fall when floods overwhelmed their lands.

Worldwide climate change was just beginning. When the solar storms first started, scientists tried to quiet rampant doomsday predictions - doomsday would not be quieted. The initial storms caused widespread panic. The earth was warming more every day and ice caps were melting at an alarming rate. Attempts to quell the panic were moot. People simply were not going to standby and hope for the government to fix what couldn’t be fixed.

Governments were forcibly overthrown, mass slaughter and mayhem occurred worldwide. Then the real catastrophe occurred. Between the flooding and the continued solar storms technology could not be revived. Backup generators only lasted so long, and gas and oil reserves were mostly underwater - becoming completely useless. Nuclear power plants were melting down, creating a whole new catastrophe for those still living, ensuring life would forever be different.

Once the radiation started leaking, there was no stopping it. Every living soul was exposed. Some survived most didn’t.

As far as the women could tell only pregnant women survived the radiation. Their unborn babies protected them somehow. All of the women lost loved ones: husbands, children, parents, friends, and pets. They were all dazed but slowly coming to realize this was the world in which they now lived.

Maxine Byers lost her husband, Landon, and their 11 month old baby boy, Stuart. She was just eight weeks pregnant with their second child when the radiation struck Landon and Stuart down with terrible ferocity. Thankfully they both died peacefully in their sleep with nary a whimper that something was wrong.

With a heavy heart she knew she had to find safety for herself and her unborn baby.  Tears flowed constantly; she never even had the chance to tell her husband about the pregnancy. She was waiting for the perfect time, hoping beyond hope, that the disasters would stop.

The flames licked up the side of their beautiful Victorian home. Their historic home so lovingly restored; now no more than kindling. Maxine and Landon had spent the last three years re-creating and restoring every last detail of the 100 year old home. With three floors and much of it in disrepair it had taken all of their free time and most of their combined incomes. But finally, just before the first storms, they called it complete. They had made the final brushstroke together. The sea-foam green was perfect.

The white trim and gorgeous shutters of the upper level of their dream-house were now being consumed by hungry flames.

The floodwaters were just reaching the front steps when the house collapsed with a final whoosh. Maxine crumpled to the sodden ground, soaking her clothes and shoes. She somehow found more tears to reflect the flames dazzling her eyes.

Earlier she had placed a red rose; plucked from a gorgeous bush Landon planted to commemorate completion of their home, upon his chest. She had wrapped Stuart in his favorite blankie and placed him in the arms of his father. They would be together forever. She placed Stuart’s fire truck, which he played with every waking minute upon his chest, then pressed the button on top of the small red truck which started the repetitive wailing siren; yesterday the most annoying sound in the world, today she would give her soul if she could only hear her son giggle, knowing how much it annoyed her that he was playing it just one more time.

She couldn’t breathe when she thought back to just two days before. “Stuart, don’t you dare push that button again, it’s driving me insane.” He giggled as he teasingly pushed the button; his giggle turning into a giant belly laugh when she stuck her tongue out at him and playfully threatened to remove the batteries.

She had to turn her mind off. If she let memories overwhelm her, she would not survive. She knew it was time to move on. Getting to higher ground was her priority; once she found a safe place she could stop and air her grief. The baby inside her was her push to not give up hope. After wiping the final tears from her green eyes and pulling her brown hair into a severe bun, she knew it was time to move forward. The wind wafted over her as she turned, bringing the pungent smell of smoke to her nostrils. She coaxed herself into taking steps forward toward a new uncertain future.

Her bike was waiting with a small trailer full of supplies. With a final look back at the crumpled ruins of their beloved home, she rode down the cluttered streets, her pants dripping and her soaked shoes squeaking on the pedals. In her heart she knew she would never see this place again. She knew she had to go northwest toward higher ground where the water had not yet reached.

Over the following days she encountered many obstacles and saw death everywhere. On her seventh day of riding she finally saw another living being. When Maxine rounded a tight bend in the road, she almost rode straight into the short woman with jet black hair. She didn’t know the woman was pregnant until she jumped to the side, exposing her round belly, to keep from getting plowed down. Maxine was overjoyed to finally see another living soul, and her brain was shuffling the facts into place as she stared at the other woman’s massive pregnant belly.

Rachel Smith was her name. She had lost her husband and parents and was barely able to walk, between her heavily pregnant belly and her overwhelming grief she would not be able to stay ahead of the floodwaters for much longer.

It didn’t take them long to figure out they had to team up. Maxine immediately thought of putting Rachel in the bike trailer. Though she wondered how she was going to haul the trailer with a person in it but pressed on with the idea anyway. It only took a few hours of riding before Maxine had to stop. Her legs were on fire, she couldn’t catch her breath, exhaustion and the added weight were simply too much. They decided it was a good time to walk for a while.

As they crested a hill they saw a horse farm spread out below them. Miraculously, there were several horses grazing in the lush green fields. These were the first living animals either had seen. They both whooped with joy, knowing their transportation issues were now a thing of the past. Their heads swiveled toward the barn as they heard barking coming from inside. Once again shocked, they searched for the dog.

They cautiously approached the barn to find the source of barking. A chubby Australian shepherd was still trying to protect her fallen mistress, who had collapsed inside the barn. Maxine held out her hand, palm up fingers stretched straight, hoping the dog would see she intended no harm.

The dog slowly approached to sniff the outstretched fingers, giving a tentative lick after a snuffle sound escaped her nose. Maxine reached out to scratch behind the dog’s ears; she was treated to the dog rolling over, begging for a belly scratch, and grunting with pleasure while her belly was scratched in all the itchy spots. She closed her one blue and one brown eye, rolling back and forth begging for more. The dog’s relief was palpable. She had likely been alone in the barn for the past week. Maxine flipped the name tag on the dog’s collar over and saw the name Daisy inscribed in the pink metal tag. “Well, pretty Daisy, looks like you’re part of our group now.” Daisy cocked her head and gave a short woof.

While Maxine was making friends with their new companion Rachel looked around the barn. She found a small horse buggy. Perfect for traveling as long as the roads remained relatively clear. She peered into several stalls that had once contained horses, but were now empty, except for one. The smell told her what to expect, but she was still saddened to see a formerly gorgeous tabiano stallion dead in his spacious stall. The nametag outside the stall read Hope’s Chance. She couldn’t help but think how this poor creature, like so many others, was out of chances and the rest barely hanging onto hope. She turned from the stall, pinching her nostrils, in an effort to filter out the smell of death.

“I found a buggy,” Rachel called out to Maxine. She distanced herself from the stall unable to handle the smell.

“Perfect, guess we’ll need to check the horses to see if we can figure out which one knows how to pull it,” Maxine responded, while searching for a halter or bridle. She could only hope the horses were well-mannered. She had very little horse experience. Rachel had more, but in her condition she would have a hard time moving quickly to calm a spooked horse if the situation called for it.

Her worries were unfounded. The horses had noticed humans going into the barn and were all lined up waiting impatiently by the fence. Obviously used to being handled.

“You tell me which one to try and I will get it,” Maxine told Rachel. She didn’t want Rachel going in the pasture if the horses got pushy.

Rachel looked the horses over carefully, looking for any signs of having recently worn a harness. She noticed a couple of things as she checked them over. They were all mares, and all looked overweight. Either they were all pregnant, or had hay bellies from the rich pasture. She was leaning toward pregnant. This seemed to be a common theme among survivors. Human and animal alike, pregnancy appeared to be the common protector. Her mind wanted to explore what happened after they gave birth, but decided to shelve that thought for later.

She finally settled on a palomino with a shiny golden coat and long flaxen mane and tail. The hair on mare’s sides was obviously mussed from recent harness wear. Rachel hoped she was well-trained and not just green broke. Knowing basically nothing about how to train a horse to pull a buggy would not bode well if the horse didn’t already know.

The mare nickered softly when Rachel pointed her out to Maxine. “She’s the one we need to try first. Let’s bring her in the barn and try the harness on.”

Maxine had to shove between several mares before she could reach the palomino. The mare quickly stuck her nose in the halter and practically led Maxine from the pasture. The other mares were jealous, but would have to wait in the pasture for now.

“Let’s give her a name,” Rachel said. “I vote for Star, she has this perfect white star in the middle of her forehead.”

“Perfect fit,” Maxine said.

Maxine led Star around the rear of the barn, thereby avoiding the body of the unfortunate woman. She found a ring on the back wall where she could tie the thick cotton lead rope. Flakes of dried red paint peppered her hand as she lifted the rusty ring she dusted her hand on the seat of her jeans gulping down a swallow of sadness knowing no one would ever repaint the old barn again. Once Star was tied, Maxine returned to the dead woman. She had to swallow back the bile that threatened as she lifted the woman’s arms, allowing a sickening rancid smell to escape the decomposing corpse. She held her nose with one hand, while quickly dragging the woman to the nearest stall. When they were ready to leave she would burn the barn.

They worked together to place the harness and adjust all the straps. It was a simple harness which they quickly figured out; the harness was lightweight red nylon, already fitted to the mare, allowing them to simply secure the crupper and cinch a few straps. The buggy was glossy cherry red with a small double seat and room in the back for supplies. It was very lightweight making it easy to drag out of the barn and get hitched. Star stood perfectly still during the whole procedure. When they were having trouble aligning the shafts she backed up a step, expertly maneuvering her body into place. Maxine patted Star’s shoulder as the last snap was snapped into place.

“I want to take her around a little to make sure everything is on correctly and ensure we get along,” Rachel said. “I’m used to riding on top, not behind.”

“While you’re doing that I will head to the house to look for any supplies we may be able to use. We’re getting a little low on food.”

Maxine made her way to the house while the clop of hoof beats heading toward the deserted road behind her. The house was a simple older white farmhouse. The paint was peeling, but well-tended flowers adorned the wide porch steps, belying death in their cheerful blue ceramic pots. She felt a tug of sadness for the woman who used to live here. Reaching down she plucked a bright yellow flower, placing its stem deep within her bun.

The door was not locked, the handle turning easily in her hand. The hinges squealed as she pushed the door open, floorboards creaking as she stepped into the living room. She resisted the urge to call out, knowing no one would answer if she did. She checked each room, hoping she would not find any more bodies. She did not find any but did find enough supplies to last two humans and one dog for several months. She hit the jackpot when she found a store of seeds that were obviously waiting to be planted in spring. Their future would rest on being self-sufficient.

She made several trips to the barn with supplies, Daisy following her back and forth each time. Daisy watched her carefully, the dog knew they were going somewhere and did not want to get left behind.

Rachel was tying Star to the barn when Maxine returned with the final load of supplies. Star stood patiently, lines of sweat darkened her golden hide where the harness straps rested. She flicked her ears to and fro as she listened to the women talk.

“We should probably rest here tonight, so we can start fresh in the morning,” Maxine said. “Luckily no one was in the house so we’ll be comfortable staying inside.” Rachel quickly agreed. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks.

The morning came too quickly for the women; even Daisy was reluctant to open her eyes when the sun rose. Daisy finally stood, yawning and stretching, her eyes squinted against the sun streaming through the window. She shook, causing loose hairs to fly through the air where they slowly settled to the floor, joining the streaks of dust already accumulating on the hardwood floor.

Maxine also stood reaching down to pat Daisy’s head and the dog rewarded her with a quick lick. She wiped her hand on her pants before knocking on Rachel’s door. Rachel groaned, but finally made her way out. They stopped long enough to have some dried jerky and a can of sweet peas. Daisy stood impatiently panting next to the table as they ate; Maxine and Rachel took turns flicking her pieces of jerky which she easily snatched from the air.

Once they made their way down to the barn it was close to 9:00, but still early enough to not be blazing hot. The mares were once again waiting by the fence. Some stomped impatient hooves while others quietly nickered hoping for attention. Star quickly shoved her way to the front, nosing the gate, ready to get out. Maxine led her through and tied her to the back of the barn.

While Rachel harnessed Star, Maxine found halters for each of the mares and several saddles, she wanted to be prepared if they came across more people needing transportation. They would make better time on horseback than on foot. She didn’t worry about tying the mares together, but instead looped the lead rope over their necks and tied a second loop to keep it from falling to the ground. She knew they would follow along when it was time to go.

Once they had the buggy loaded with their supplies they were ready to start their journey again. Maxine covered the buggy with a large blue tarp she found in the barn, snugging it tightly with bungee cords and white nylon rope. She climbed into the buggy first, holding her hand out to assist Rachel as she clambered aboard. Rachel slowly maneuvered her pregnant belly into a comfortable position and took the reins calling out, “giddy-up” to Star, while flicking the reins. Daisy trotted alongside and the loose horses followed obediently behind, occasionally stopping to snag mouthfuls of grass, then hurrying to catch up. Behind them they left a dust trail on the dirt drive of the farm. They occasionally caught a whiff of smoke from the still-smoldering barn. 

Over the next several days and weeks they came across other women who were all pregnant. Each had basically the same story, they were the only survivors. They continued in the northwesterly direction hoping they would know when it was time to stop. The rising waters were far behind them now, but none of them knew how long that would last. They needed a sanctuary that was high above sea level, and could support their group. With the continually warming climate winter was unlikely to be a concern. Their primary objective was finding a place to stop.

Finally, after two months and many births they found their Eden.

They had been traveling up a steep grade for what seemed like days when they crested a tree and grass covered mountain. Massive oak trees flanked the trail, pine and maple swayed in the hot breeze. The scent of warm pine sap adding a comforting sense of familiarity. Spread below was a lush green valley where grass was waist high and berry covered brambles could be spotted in the distance. In the center stood a doe and her two newborn fawns, the breeze lightly ruffling their shiny reddish coats. All the women came to a halt, several of the mares snorted. It seemed as though they were all on the same wavelength, they all knew without communication that this was it. This would serve as their new home, and whatever their lives were to become would begin here in this forgotten valley.

Chapter 1

Her eyes popped open. Half emerald green and half golden they dazzled in the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. Though the glass was cloudy and yellowed with age enough sunlight still snuck through to wake her from her dreams. Immediately she remembered today was the last day of school and then the whole summer stretched before her. Complete freedom to do as she pleased.

She quickly dressed in a light breezy dress she had painstakingly stitched, pulling her light brown hair into a loose ponytail as she hurried down the stairs when her mom called her for breakfast. She arrived in record time, a necessity in a house containing two growing seven year old boys.

“So what’s on the menu today?” She asked her mom. She ruffled each of her twin brothers blond heads, glancing at the lumps on their backs just visible under their lightweight shirts. She proceeded into the large country kitchen to hug her mom.

“Well, we have fresh goat milk, asparagus, and delicious ripe bananas for your pleasure.” Her mom jokingly told her, as she held out a full plate. Her mom loved to cook and made tasty meals with all fresh foods.

Lydia took a moment, pausing before she took the proffered plate, to just look at her mom. Her mom was beautiful, but Lydia could sense something not quite right. Her long blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her hazel eyes didn’t sparkle as bright as they did just a few weeks ago.

“Joyce.” They heard a weak male voice calling from the living room.

Lydia’s mom quickly finished making a plate for her husband and carried it to the darkened living room. Her feet padded softly across the threadbare carpet, the color now a faded brown after years of dirty feet treading on it. She pulled a tray in front of the sagging blue couch, placing the plate and a small cup on its dented tan surface. She carefully settled at her husband’s feet, lifting his legs and placing them across her lap.

Lydia followed behind to say good morning to her dad. Her dad, Andrew, had been sick for several weeks now. His eyes dull, skin sallow, and cheeks sunken, he looked nothing like the man he was just a few short weeks ago. He had the sickness they all knew would come. Her dad was one of the oldest in their community. He was 33 and was unlikely to ever see his 34th birthday.

Here in Wetumpka there was no such thing as old age. The storms and radiation that had destroyed the world and killed almost all living beings continued to control their future. Though they lived in a veritable paradise they did not live long.

Lydia leaned in to kiss her dad’s cheek. Noticing for the first time that his green eyes had lost some of their color and had black veins running through what used to be bright white. She pulled back with a gasp. “Dad, it’s getting worse. Why’s it happening so fast?”

He stroked her brown hair and gave a watery smile. “My baby girl, you know how this goes. We simply don’t live for long and there is no cure for what ails us. Live your life to its fullest now. I don’t have long left on this earth, but I lived my life to sustain you and your brothers. Though, they were a happy surprise after we thought we were done having kids.” Talking seemed to visibly drain his energy as he slumped farther into his stained pillow.

Her heart wrenched seeing her father so weak. When she was younger she had been told how the sickness worked, but refused to believe it could strike strong healthy adults. Even though she knew the oldest anyone in this community had lived since her birth was 35 she could not wrap her mind around it. Watching her dad grow weaker day by day made it her reality. There was no denying the ferocity, but buried within her there was a spark of hope, a hope for a cure that was just waiting to be discovered.

She leaned down and gently kissed her dad’s clammy forehead, glancing at her mom, she saw the pain hidden there, brimming beneath a layer of strength. She returned to the kitchen, though she no longer had an appetite. Her brothers were just polishing off their food when she walked in. “Here munchkins, have mine, I’m not hungry this morning.” They grinned as she scraped her food equally between their plates.

“You have five minutes before we head out the door. Remember today’s the last day of school for the Byers’ clan, well, I guess for everyone else too.” She told them as they scarfed down her food.

As they walked to school she looked around their almost fantastical valley. Though this was the only world she had ever known, she knew it was very different from the world 34 years ago. Her grandmother, Maxine Byers, was one of the original founders of their colony. Though, Maxine had died before Lydia was born she heard many stories of how life used to be as it was passed down from the original generation to life in the new world.

As far as the eye could see the land was a tropical paradise. Palm trees swayed in the warm breeze, banana trees adorned every yard, and the sky dazzled an azure blue dotted with fluffy white clouds skittering across the sky. They had never experienced cold or inclement weather. The climate had been unsettled and scorching hot for the first year or so after the happening, but after that it settled into a perfect creature pleasing place. Never too hot, never too cold, never too much or too little of anything. When it rained it was the perfect amount and just enough to cleanse the earth and water the plants.

No one living in the valley had ever experienced any discomfort, other than losing loved ones at an early age. They were all extremely healthy, until they weren’t. There were no colds, no flus, no cancer, no sick days, no war, and no famine. Life was simple, life was easy.

The twins, having just turned seven, were full of curiosity and boundless energy. They knew their dad was sick, but didn’t have a real grasp on what it would mean for their future. Being born to parents that were older at the time of their birth meant, barring some miracle, they would be parentless before their 10th birthday.

Lydia knew and accepted that she would likely be raising her brothers. She knew whatever life she may have wanted to make for herself would always be wrapped around them. Though it stifled her at times to think of such a major responsibility, it was nothing compared to the heart rending fear of losing both her parents.

She was only fifteen, but knew, under normal circumstances, she should be looking for a husband soon. They had to have children very early if they had any reasonable expectation of seeing them grow up. So far she hadn’t met anyone she would consider for this role. She had several male friends, but none made her heart flutter. The entire population of their little valley was less than 140 people, and of that only a handful were boys close to her age. Due to people dying so young they all started having kids as soon as possible. The first generation of couples managed to have a total of 92 kids. It would be a balancing act to ensure they continued maintaining their population. After several generations everyone would be related, but for now there were enough unrelated boys and girls to continue their colony.

At times she wondered if there were other groups of people out there. Surely there was a real possibility that other women had teamed up after the happening and found sanctuaries. No one in the colony had ever attempted to travel or try to discover other survivors. The water completely surrounding their valley was a deterrent to exploring. Their only water worthy vessels were canoes or kayaks and there was no visible land from the shores, with the exception of a small fresh water island that kids occasionally floated over to, though it was too small for much exploring, it was still big enough to feel like you were lost if you happened to get turned around.

On the walk to school Lydia’s stomach started growling. Obviously her appetite was back. As they passed a giant mat of banana trees she snagged a perfectly ripe banana, though it wouldn’t hold her for long at least she wouldn’t have the embarrassment of a rumbling tummy during class.

The Byers lived farther from school than any other kids because they lived on the original farm found by her grandmother all those years ago. Most families lived in smaller houses closer to the town square.

On the way they made several stops to get her friends. Her brothers had a few friends, but most lived on the other side of the school so they would have to wait for class to see them.

Their first stop was Sherry Garner’s house. Sherry and Lydia had been best friends almost since birth. She had shocking violet colored eyes, astounding purple hair, and beautiful olive colored skin. She was short, barely five feet tall, and unique even among many kids with radiation induced abnormalities. Lydia loved her like a sister, as they were born only two days apart.

Next up was Joe Miller. Joe was the youngest of their little group being only 14. He was very tall for his age, nearly six feet already. With green hair and piercing blue eyes he was a sight to see, many girls had shown interest in him already, but he had eyes only for Sherry. He sported a small group of shimmering iridescent green and purple scales on each of his calves. He was already fantasizing about what his and Sherry’s future children would look like.

The final member of their group was Larry Fritz. Larry had a tail, yes that’s right, a tail. A full on, furry golden retriever looking tail. It wagged furiously when he was happy, tucked when he was upset, and straight out when he was mad. He had a lovable, forgiving personality, to see him get mad was a rare day indeed. All of his clothes were customized to accommodate his tail. He never tried to hide it. Deep brown eyes and soft golden hair contributed to his likeness of the dog breed from generations past. As normal his tail was wagging furiously as his friends approached.

As a group they called themselves the Rad Misfits. Yeah, you guessed it, short for Radiation Misfits. Fitting for a group with all their little oddities. Oh, one more oddity, Lydia has gills. Non-working, but gills, none-the-less.

Chapter 2

 

After dropping Brandon and Cayden off at their classroom, the Rad Misfits headed to their final class of the school year, and their final class of structured school. From here on they were the masters of their universe. After this summer they would apprentice in various areas around the valley to find which suited them best.

Though there was no longer a money system everyone was expected to have jobs and pull their fair share of duties. For those less desirable jobs that no one wanted as a day to day profession were shared equally among families, or given to kids who chose to misbehave in school.

There was no disciplinary system in place either, outside of doing distasteful chores. The only issues were some kids goofing off in class in an attempt to get classmates to laugh. No one living truly understood how different this was from before the happening. There were no weapons, no murders, no robberies, no car accidents, no kidnappings and none of the myriad of terrible things that used to occur throughout the world.

They had never experienced eating meat, fast food, massive amounts of sugar, soda, alcohol, tobacco, and other things too numerous to list for which the world used to exist on. Obesity was non-existent as well as all the other health concerns that went along with it. They did have some rudimentary electronics, but nothing like previous generations. There were no cell phones, internet, or cable tv. The only movies any of them had ever seen were those found throughout the existing structures. Videos were only showed during set periods of time in a common area for all to see. No-one had TVs in their homes, almost all electronics had broken during the last twenty years or so and were never repaired. Kids were expected to go outside and play when they were bored.

Class was noisy when they arrived. Kids were sitting on pads in the center of the large room. All of the chairs and tables had been moved to the outside of the room and large blue pads, similar to kinder mats, were laid out for them to sit on. Their teacher, Mrs. Johnson, knew nothing was going to get done today. This was simply a day to discuss jobs the kids could choose from and cover the basics of what each one entailed. There were fifteen kids total in the class. Ranging in age from fourteen to seventeen, the class was not traditional, but necessary due to the limited number of kids of the same age.

The oldest girl in the class, Ella Morgan, was Lydia’s sworn enemy. When they were much younger Ella was Lydia’s friend, though never really part of the Rad Misfits group. She showed a distinct distaste for anyone showing deformities. Though Lydia had gills, they were never exposed since they sat on top of her lungs, the slits perfectly aligning with her rib cage. The only outward deformity she showed was her eyes. Though not a normal coloring, they weren’t as obvious as a tail or crazy colored hair.

Ella had broken away from Lydia suddenly and cruelly, and had begun calling Lydia a freak, refusing to speak to her. Though Lydia never understood her reasons she chose to leave it alone. She had plenty of friends without trying to keep one who was mean for no reason.

Mrs. Johnson clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Kids, as you know, today is our last day together. I’ve truly enjoyed teaching each one of you. I’m proud of how much you’ve learned and will miss seeing you in class every day. I will be starting with a brand new class of kids in the fall. I know many of you have already chosen your mates, and want to stress how important this is to our continued survival. Our entire colony would disappear in a few short years if there were no more kids to carry on the next generation.” She paused as she wiped a lone tear from her pale freckled cheek. The kids knew she had lost her husband shortly after they were married. He was digging a new well when the walls collapsed and he could not be rescued. She was only 16 at the time and never had an opportunity to have children. Though there were procedures in place to help women in this situation she was unable to get pregnant.

After sighing deeply, she continued. “Many of you have helped your parents in their profession, but over the next year you will be allowed to try a variety of professions to find one that suits you best. I have a list of possibilities and I hope at least one of you will choose teaching.”

“First up is teaching,” Mrs. Johnson said. “I have a soft spot for this one, since I will be sponsoring each graduate when it’s your turn. I won’t go into details now, you’ll get plenty when it’s time.”

“Second is construction/handyman duty. This is probably the most physically and mentally demanding duty. Because all of the buildings are getting old and we don’t have unlimited resources we have to be creative when repairing or building new things. Construction will include: maintaining horse, orchard and garden fencing, repairing broken pipelines and structural damage, it will also include electric and telephone maintenance. Research is also part of this field, as mentioned, because things are simply getting old and wearing out. We have no way to replace plastic parts, make wire, or create metal. I hope one of you comes up with fixes for some of our current problems, otherwise we will soon be living without things we now take for granted.”

“Third is medicine. This field is also very mentally demanding, simply because you have to learn and memorize so much. Even though we are lucky as far as having very few medical issues, you will still be expected to have knowledge of plants, obstetrics, and day to day treatments. On any given day you may help deliver a baby, set a broken bone, treat a minor burn, and remove any variety of impalements. When I took my turn at medicine, I had to help remove a splinter from a little boy’s eye. Though he was fine, that cemented my want to be a teacher. I simply did not have the stomach for medicine. Some of you will discover the same.”