*#1 in Dungeons and dragons for 3 months in 2020*
Deeply traumatised by his past, Clarence must find the courage to rescue his friend from a place he swore he would never return.
Clarence O'Leary, A Leprechaun, is determined to live his life as a f...
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02
Brown ash coated her lawn so deep it covered the tips of withered grass. Beatrix waited at her gate, eyes set on an unlit road, breath steaming in the chilly air. There were stories that military trucks were attacked and kept changing their routes. Her wait was a breath-hold, as the sound of a truck came to her ears she released it. Her feet crunched on ash as she moved away from the gate and stood in the middle of her drive. She adjusted her mask and waved as they came into sight. As always, their guns pointed at her, but the driver looked out the window and gave her a nod. "There's been trouble in Taunton, something went wrong with the sewage and caused a riot."
"Will it happen here?"
He looked towards her house, "You've got a septic tank right?"
She nodded.
"Did you get anything to grow?"
She went back to her gate and retrieved a bag. Their guns followed every movement. The guards smiled as the driver took carrots, onions and tomatoes. "Are your hydroponic lights working then?"
"Yes, but the power curfew means the lights don't stay on long enough. I ran out of oil three weeks ago. There should be more, I'm sorry."
"It won't matter if what we are hearing is true," Driver told her. "We're going to a fallout bunker after this run. Shall we pick you up on our way back?"
Something in the way he said it made her shiver. The army had done it's job so far, but desperate people trapped and competing for resources didn't stay kind for long- she shook her head.
"It's no bother, I'd save more if I could, Beatrix."
"It's pointless. I've not seen the sun in three months. I'm sorry- Thank you for the offer- but I'm done."
Driver looked disappointed, but he didn't argue. "Keep your phone turned on. The military will issue a warning should it happen. Let's hope for another false alarm."
Two soldiers unloaded boxes of dehydrated food for her.
"I'll see you next week. I'm trying to grow cucumbers too."
The driver's gave her a sad smile, and the truck pulled away.
Satisfied nobody was watching, she picked up her food and turned towards the house. Across her back was a twelve-bore shotgun. Her father once used it for clay pigeon shooting. Now It had a different purpose, as of yet unneeded. The army had done a suitable job at keeping people from starvation. eventually somebody would try something, threat of the army or not. She closed the gate, securing it with a chain and a padlock. The walls that ran around the outside of her house were not high enough. They might act as a deterrent, but would not keep people out.
Once her home had been a busy livery yard. Ghosts lived in the stables now. She reached her front door, took a thick key from her neck, unlocked it, and slid it open with her foot whilst she balanced the box of food in her arms. Trying the lights was a habit, as usual the power was down. In the hall's gloom she called, "Honey, I'm home." A meow answered.
