It looked as though evening chores were underway. Resisting chickens were being rounded up, a wooden coop was being mended, Jed was adjusting one of the rudimentary crop sprinklers and, judging by the noise, work was continuing on the drainage system.
In truth, we lived like kings compared to Thomas’s time. When everyone else had abandoned their homes for the protection of the Lifedome, my ancestors had placed their faith in the natural world. And, despite its terrifying destruction and slow recovery, I couldn’t be more grateful. Life was raw, we rarely knew where the next meal was coming from, and we had precious few expectations. But we were free.
I looked back, waiting for Eli to surface. He always did so with a smile on his face and didn’t disappoint this time. I helped pull him from the black water, and passed him a dry woollen blanket from the stack in the corner.
‘How on earth can you enjoy it?!’ I signed, pulling a face.
He flicked water from his sandy hair, making me step back rapidly. His grey-blue eyes shone with silent laughter and I chuckled, feeling the last of my stress melt away.
‘Hey, nice work, you two,’ Raoul called from the mouth of the cave. Eli’s catch was already attracting a small crowd. ‘Sausages for breakfast, lunch, and dinner ’til Christmas!’
Laughter rippled through the evening air, as we grabbed our bags and made for the entrance.
‘Don’t forget the greens.’ I winked, emptying the contents of my leather rations bag onto the homemade twig-and-twine platters, before walking away. My hoard comprised a wide selection of wild herbs, edible berries, field mushrooms, and my best find of the day: a whole branch of sweet, ripe apricots – Joe would definitely put those to good use.
‘Great forage, Talia!’ Raoul called, tossing back two of the apricots.
I spun to catch them deftly, before replacing them carefully in my rations bag. Grandpa never ceased to be amazed at the variety of fruit I foraged. He remembered when fruit didn’t grow at all except in the most isolated, sheltered areas; and most of that was withered and spoiled. His generation had a real problem with scurvy. Nowadays, we had our pick of many different exotic fruits, which would never have found a home in the forest before – one of the benefits of catastrophic climate change, or so the Council Elders said.
With the excitement of fresh food supplies growing, we made our excuses and started for home – an old treehouse situated a little way into Arafel’s forest. It was one of the first to be built, and Thomas’s plans for the village were still etched out in charcoal on the living-space floor. Grandpa said it blessed our home, and reminded us how Thomas always trusted in the recovery of the natural world.
‘Eli … Talia, is that you?’ Daniel – one of Grandpa’s friends – called out as we started for home through the trees. He shuffled across the leafy forest floor and, grasping Eli’s hand, shook it profusely. My brother grinned from ear to ear as I rolled my eyes. Eli was going to be able to live off the boar glory for days at this rate.
Nodding politely, I widened my eyes at Eli. He understood. Mum worried so much when we were outside, and all I could think about was watching the colour return to her face when she saw us. We walked swiftly, but were only a few metres on when we were interrupted again.
‘Apricots they said? It’s not even June! You really are the craziest queen of foraging!’
This time, it was my turn to smile before peering through the trees in the direction of the teasing voice. Max was a couple years older than us. He was also a close friend, natural athlete, and one of the best treehouse builders in the village. He and his dad had designed the new open-air tree showers, and everyone was looking forward to washing without the complimentary mud footbath their predecessor had provided. Max, like Eli and a couple of his friends, were also gifted hunters, and willingly took extra shifts outside the village to boost meat stocks.
‘I saved you one, but I want to trade!’ I challenged, ignoring the faint frown on Eli’s face.
Reaching into my leather pouch, I held the promised golden-yellow treat high, turning slowly on the spot so he could appreciate its unusually perfect, ripened form.
‘Well, now I’m intrigued. What could the queen of foraging, teacher of … old stuff and OK, not half-bad tree-runner, possibly want from a lowly construction worker?’
My grin widened and I flexed my limbs. Tree-running was a skill our ancestors had developed as a way of improving our coordination within our new environment. Thomas had started a timed hunter’s challenge around Arafel’s forest, recognizing that if we were to survive in a new habitat we needed to move more like the animals within it.
‘There’s no need to be embarrassed about being beaten by a girl, Max,’ I teased, craning my neck to peer through the thick undergrowth. ‘Last week’s new-moon trial was pretty fast, and I’ve a couple of new tricks I could show you … if you like?’
An excited chaffinch twittered its warning from the undergrowth.
‘C’mon, a couple of tricks and a juicy apricot in return for one hour of your time to help fix Grandpa’s roof … What do you say?’
My ears pricked and the apricot was suddenly spun from my fingers, as a lithe figure sprang from the middle branches of a nearby tree. Instantly I darted for the fallen fruit, but just as my fingers closed around it, Max performed the perfect side-on tackle, knocking all the breath from my body.
‘Cut it out!’ I yelled, between gulps of laughter as we rolled, his fingers tickling me mercilessly for ownership of the precious fruit. For a couple of minutes I held out, using my runner’s strength to keep him at bay while Eli watched from a fallen log. But I was no physical match for Max, and when he prised my fingers open I gave in, using his moment of victory to roll away and catch my breath.
‘Where in the name of Arafel did you get this?’ he questioned through mouthfuls of the apricot’s sweet juicy flesh. ‘This is definitely worth a bit of roof repair work – which you know I would have been happy to help with, apricot or not!’
He reached out a strong brown hand and pulled me to my feet, his hazelnut-green eyes twinkling between indignation and amusement. A length of his golden-brown hair had escaped during our tussle, and I watched as he deftly tucked it behind one ear.
He smiled and opened his mouth as though to speak, just as Eli stepped up beside me.
‘Is it me or is it raining?’ my brother signed with a flurry of fingers, and a brief smirk.
It was a reference to the time Eli and I had needed to rescue Max from a narrow ledge behind a forest waterfall. We’d managed to live off that one glory moment for years.
‘Raining? You mean pouring!’ I signed with an exaggerated flourish.
Max rolled his eyes, understanding perfectly.
‘For the love of Arafel, we were seven years old!’
‘Seven and eight to be precise,’ I corrected, giving in to the gentle pressure of Eli’s hand. ‘Tomorrow evening for the repair work … After supper good for you?’
He nodded.
‘Why don’t you help me?’ he threw out suddenly. ‘Give you a break from teaching all that old, dead stuff?’
‘All that old dead stuff is called history, and I happen to believe it’s important to learn as much as we can about the past – mostly so we don’t screw up the future! But I don’t mind lending a hand … Fancy it, Eli?’
Eli’s face brightened, and I stifled a frown. He seemed so edgy around Max these days.
‘You should probably