THE EASTERN SEABOARD, UNITED STATES
A year after The Fall

There were no adults left in most cities. As the streets deteriorated further, cobs, gangs of kids, took over separate territories. The east coast was one fallen civilization of many, and as the dust settled, a new hierarchy arose.

The oldest were in charge, most no older than Ammon.

Ammon, seventeen, ran the black market in Sam's territory, a cityscape of ruins now dubbed Netherland by its inhabitants.

He provided a place to trade for goods and food. Tall and lean but powerful, Ammon, like Sam, was not a member of any of the gangs. But, unlike Sam, cob leaders were trying to recruit him. He would be a formidable ally to have on anyone's side. Ammon had been an exchange student from Egypt at the time of The Fall and, always athletic, had already towered over six feet. But this also allowed him to be a neutral party.

As far as Sam was concerned, Ammon was an opportunist to give any politician a run for their money. She only showed him contempt, with a grudging tolerance.

As for Ammon, he liked her forthrightness, even fantasized about her sometimes, but he wasn't dumb enough to say so. There was no end to the number of blades Sam carried—and she had a temper. That was another reason he liked her so much. But, he wasn't al'ahmaq. He didn't fancy sharp objects flying at his face.

Still, he liked to make her turn red.

It was a fine line he walked.

He grinned at her.

Her stormy expression grew darker, if that was even possible. If looks could kill, Ammon would have died a hundred deaths by now.

Well, he had survived the end of the world. He didn't think the Dark One was going to do him in, no matter how terrifying she was.

Ammon picked up one of the C batteries, tossing it up and catching it in his hand. "Is this all you've got?"

Sam breathed in and out several times, counting to ten before she attempted to answer. "It's pouring down rain out there. These have been worth a can of soup in the past."

"It's more difficult to get food in today than it was even a few months ago. I cannot make exceptions."

Sam's hands balled into fists. "What can I get for the batteries, then, Oh Benevolent One?"

Ammon paused. While he deliberated, Sam snatched the battery out of his hand and grabbed the one left on the counter and stuffed them into her pocket. "Forget it."

Sam cursed him under her breath the entire walk back to The Hole. The relentless sheets of rain did nothing to cool her temper.


ALLERFORD, SOMERSET, ENGLAND
Continued from before

Christie uttered a low, hearty chuckle, slapping his knee in the process. "Sneaking into me own house! Och! I've got to do this more often!"

Hermione turned to stare at Christie in the dim morning light. "What?" She was shaking like a leaf, terrified someone would see her.

Christie had assured her that everyone in the village was even older than he was and tended to sleep in, practicing for the impending eternal slumber, but then admitted his neighbors were the 'moochiest bunch of high-neck nosies' he'd ever laid eyes on.

Hermione had almost lost her gall right then and there.

Christie started shaking with laughter, his shoulders trembling with the chortles. His eyes were bright as he peeked his bearded chin around the knotted tree, making sure once more that none of his neighbors' lights were on yet. "Now who's the old nosey?" he asked himself, laughing and shaking even harder.

Hermione's spine straightened and she admonished him, feeling very annoyed and tender at the same time with the thought that dear old Christie would have got on very well with Harry and Ron and the twins at Hogwarts indeed. "Hush!" Her eyes were swelling with emotion and fear and she sounded harsher than she had intended, but Christie didn't even act like he heard her. In fact, he was getting louder by the second. Hermione rubbed her eyes and her voice raised into a sharp pitch as she asked, "Do you want to be found out, is that it?"

Ignoring her, Christie took off towards his gate, his rifle swinging on its strap against his back.

"Mr. Barclay!" Hermione hissed, then uttered a foul word. "Wait!"

Hermione followed, muttering under her breath with each frenzied step. When she reached his front door, he whisked it open and pulled her inside, laughing still.

Hermione stood in the darkened doorway, the door shut behind her, and started dusting herself off, at a loss for words. At last his chuckling started to give way and Hermione gave him her sternest look. "You're mad!" she exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

Christie only laughed harder, steering her towards the kitchen. He rinsed and then stored the meat of the two rabbits in containers and set them in the fridge.

He started filling the percolator with water and called over his shoulder that she should make herself at home again, emphasis on the again, and find a bite to eat. He chortled to himself, then had a second thought and asked if she would prefer tea.

"Thank you, I would, but I'll fix it." Hermione paused as she wondered what to make to eat. Such a prospect hadn't been in front of her in so long. "How about a quick but traditional English fry-up? It wouldn't take me long to put it together."

"Now you're talkin'!" Christie smiled and swept his arm forward towards the stove. "Hop t' it, lassie. I've got Heinz beans, cured ham, and even a few eggs. In fact, I do happen t' have a tomato or two. Is that too much?" He looked like he was afraid he was asking for the moon, and Hermione smiled at him.

"Not at all." Her stomach nearly fainted at the thought of ham.

Hermione began moving around the kitchen. So much of it was awkward at first, but it wasn't long before she had ham and eggs frying side by side in a cast iron frying pan. She peeked in the walk-in larder after Christie showed her the swinging door that blended into the wall on the north side of the kitchen. The back room was rather large and she was thankful she hadn't discovered it before. If she had only taken from the dusty back shelves there, she would have never been in the situation she was in now. With a friend. It was a lot to wrap her mind around.

There was a large deep freezer in the back corner, as well as a very old and rusty fridge that might have been the colour of tapioca ice cream at one time. Most of the house was in working order and Christie was not a slob, a fact Hermione was thankful for. But the shelves in the larder were unorganized and dusty. There would be plenty of work to keep her busy.

Hermione held the fridge door open with her hip as she looked through the wide variety of home-grown produce. She picked out a few white button mushrooms and then, shutting the door, selected a medium-sized ripe tomato from its perch on a shelf in front of a dusty diamond-paned window. She brought them out and into the kitchen, letting the swinging door close behind her.

Christie was at the table, sifting through a small open book about local birds and making small notations in the margins as well as in his notepad. Hermione hurried over to the frying pans and flipped the ham and eggs. The cured ham would not take long to warm, so Hermione added the mushrooms to the frying pan and listened to the pop and sizzle, a smile lighting up her face. After the ham and mushrooms were finished and resting next to the fried eggs, Hermione cut the tomato in half and set the halves in the hot grease.

Hermione had learned more about cooking from Mrs. Weasley than her own mum, who had been too busy with the dental office to serve a home-cooked meal very often. She made a mental list of dishes she would like to learn how to cook. Chili, stews, and soups would be a good place to start. She imagined she'd get a toothy cowboy grin if she mentioned chili.

She began laying out a few tea towels to go underneath the platter filled with what looked like a feast to her.

Christie shut his book, laid his notepad on top, and got up to pour himself a cup of coffee. Hermione sipped at her cup of chamomile tea at the sink for a second before setting it down and washing her hands. Both then seated, he pulled his plate closer and gave Hermione a warm smile and a mischievous wink. Closing his eyes as she reached for a piece of ham, Christie prayed, "Thank thee, Lord, for the bounty Ye have set before us. Thank thee for the blessin' of friendship. Please watch o'er us and keep us out of too much trouble." He cleared his throat. "Amen."

Hermione's eyes were wide and Christie pretended not to notice the surprise as plain as the nose on her face as he gave her a cheeky grin, filled up his plate, and tucked in.


al'ahmaq (Arabic) :: stupid

The Hole :: nickname for the auto shop that used to be owned by Sam and Beth's uncle