The Ashen Wrath (Watty's SHORTLIST recipient 2018) CHAPTERED VERSION

*21

       

The next morning, Granddad and I waited patiently for the stilt striders to leave the village. As soon as they were gone, we immediately began my reading lessons. The surveillance gap didn't last long so there wasn't a second to waste. I battled my frustration, striving to memorize every shape, line and slash put before me. Just when I felt something was beginning to click, our time was up. I rushed back to my partition only moments before the drones returned.

I was thankful granddad had been spared field work, but with his quota eliminated, mine had been doubled. My grandfather was desperate to help, but work sharing was expressly forbidden. To pass the time, he kept writing while safely zipped within his partition. He was taking a risk—tent raids were rare, but not uncommon. Knowing this, he was adamant about finishing his book.

By the time the Meal Trill sounded, my legs felt like rubber. After the drone verified and renewed my double field quota, I joined Granddad at the table to eat some beans and rice. I missed Marta and Annie and hoped they were holding up okay on their new plot.

"Boy, whatever happens to me...promise me you'll keep going, keep trying to survive," said Granddad. Despite a lack of field work, the old man still seemed tired.

"Don't talk that way," I replied, putting down my spoon. "You always told us the only thing more powerful than the Privus is hope. I won't give up, and you shouldn't either."

Granddad smiled softly and stood up. "I'm afraid I'm going to need to rest for a bit before the Factory Trill."

I nodded. "I'll clean up, don't worry."

Granddad shuffled to his partition and zipped up his flap. Outside the window, I saw a swarm of airdrones lifting into the sky. It was the middle of the month, the first of five days when the stilt striders arrived late to the zone. I took a deep breath and quietly left the tent. Solutions to my problems weren't going to present themselves—I had to take action.