The air was getting colder, and the sun slowly warming the scene in front of him. Bass shrugged into his jacket and headed out to the barn. This time of year was filled with dark memories, he tried not to think about the past, but it always crept back into his mind. It was nearly the anniversary of the blackout. He had been ripped from his family in more ways than he thought possible. Bass pushed open the barn door and was greeted by the soft huffs of his livestock.
He went through the now routine process of feeding his horses, cattle, clucking hens, and large knocked-up sow. His sizeable gray gelding followed him to the grazing field, softly knocking against his shoulder in greeting. He patted his big head before caving, giving him the carrot he had hidden in his pocket. Bass sighed "they have it wrong; dogs are not man's best friend; you are Ted." Being a horse, he just started grazing and lazily flicking his tail. Bass chuckled and went to clean out the stalls.
Manual labor typically distracted his mind, but he was bombarded by memories today. After the blackout, he spent a year looking for his little sisters. They had been sent on a tour of national parks with their Girl Scout Troup only a week before the lights went out. He and Miles had been returning to base when the highways went dark. They waited a few weeks before accepting that the electricity would not return anytime soon. They traveled together as far as Chicago before splitting up to cover more ground. Each promising to look out for one another's loved ones. Making it all the way to Washington, Bass finally had to accept defeat. It took him nearly another year to return back home, where he set up shop as a farmer.
In his first year on the farm, he nearly starved; he had to scrape everything together to survive and push through. It was in the second year that he met Shelly. She had been a nurse before the blackout. She was sweet, and funny and made him feel like things could be normal again. Loud squeals broke his train of thought. Mother Nature had decided it was show-time; he headed over to the pig pen. "Hey, little mama, time to have those babies?" he spoke in soothing tunes as he climbed into her enclosure with fresh water. It took Bass the better part of the day to deliver her litter of 8 pink piglets. Making sure they were all settled inside the barn, he went to wash up in the stream that ran along his property.
While he cooked dinner, his mind started spinning again. He found himself thinking about Shelly. They had a magical six months before finding out she was pregnant. Bass had been elated; they both had been - if only they had a crystal ball. He felt his eyes start to burn "stupid onions..." he muttered, knowing full well that was a lie. Their son was born healthy; he had never known so much love. They had named him Ethan. He had Shelly's dark hair and Bass's eyes. He was two when the measles swept through the area. Shelly put all her knowledge into trying to keep him alive. Bass had ridden all night to the nearest Patriot camp to beg for medicine. When he got there, they turned him away, stating that vaccines were only for those who lived within their borders. Bass had never known he was capable of such begging - he offered them everything, but they turned him away. He barely made it home in time to watch Ethan take his last little breath.
The smell of burning food jolted him back to reality. "Shit, shit, shit" he pulled the cast iron off the stove and sat down a the table. Guess it would be a meal of moonshine, he thought as he drank himself into a familiar stooper. His dreams were dark and empty, his body slumped over the table, and his hand wrapped around a bottle. He stirred as the sun started shining over the horizon. Washing his face in his rudimentary bathroom, he let the motions of work steer him through another day in this new world.