The blueberry bushes were starting to flower. We were leaving a window open to allow butterflies and bees to come in and pollinate the plants naturally. I measured each plant and documented the growth. It had been over century since blueberries had been grown.


“You can’t eat the flowers.” Jackson reminded me for the untenth time.


“I know that. I was just hoping they would smell different.”


But the tiny white flowers didn’t really smell like anything at all. I flipped through the botany book until I found the chapter about fruit gestation periods, as I read I got excited, it should only be a few more days until i got to pop one of those delicious berries into my mouth.


“Have you heard anything from Jenkins?” I asked.


“He was probably just blowing smoke.”

I laughed. “Maybe I scared him off.”


“Oh that must be it,” he snorted. “SarahMae scared off the big bad authority officer.”


“He could have finally realized that I was a native and nothin’ like him.”


Jackson face twisted into something ugly. “I pray not. That man is a psychopath, the only reason he’s lettin’ you live is because he believes you to be a product of the authority.”


“But I look nothin’ like them.” I checked my reflection to make sure nothing had suddenly changed. “I don’t have sandpaper skin or tipped ears.”


He laughed at my vanity. “Of course you look nothing like those space invaders.”


I let the sounds around me sink in. “Do you heat them?” I let one of the blueberry bushes roots climb onto my finger.


“I’m not sure if anyone can hear them like you.” He was watching me the same way he did when we were first married.

“Come here,” I placed his hand near and exposed root.


The root wrapped around Jackson’s finger. He stiffened up and his eyes widen.


“What do you hear?”


He closed his eyes and relaxed. “It sounds like its singing.”


“I knew you could do it!” I jumped up and kissed his cheek. “ Maybe the grands’ weren’t half mad when they put us together.”


The greenhouse was rhythmic hums of the blueberry bushes. Even with the slightest introduction to the extinct plant Nature already seemed to be righting herself.


Jackson absently mumbled to himself. I strained to hear. “What did you say?”


“Control the food, control the masses.” She snapped back to life. “It’s much easier to control us when we’re weak and malnourished.”


Jackson inspected the little plant further. “But it’s been a century since they started to attack our people. You’d think with how advanced the human race had become we would have adapted with the changes.”


“They gave up hope,” I sighed. “Remember the stories Grandda would tell us?”


“We were living in peace after generations of war. Those who survived the fall out became intuned with what was left of the Earth and made it their mission to right the wrongs they had done to her.”


“It wasn’t some utopia.” I corrected him.


“But nothing like the fallout.”


“That’s why the authorities were able to come in and take over. We weren’t able to defend ourselves any longer.” I went outside to watch the storm brewing. “They were like a tornado. No matter what protection we thought was had they were stronger.”


“They aren’t stronger than us.” Jackson tried to catch one of the horse’s that were beginning to panic. “Ever since you got out these storms have been coming mighty fierce.”


Lighting twisted through the skies. Thankfully there were no signs of tornados. It was something strange to run indoors from the rain. I could remember when the rain was so rare, that young and old alike, would stay out and let the water falling from the sky kiss our skin.


“Would you mind?” Jackson shouted soaking wet and staring at the horses. All three of them stood watching me. “You’re doin’ something to them.”


“I ain't doin shit to them. They’ve been weird ever since we brought home those bushes.” But it didn’t matter what I said, they followed me into the barn without even saying a word.


Cooper, our dapple, blocked the door. I tried to push her in with but she released a pathic whiny.


“Well if you don’t like being wet you shouldn’t have left the barn.”


The horse shook her head and kicked her front hoof towards the green house.  I looked but I didn’t see anything to make her upset. The storm clouds were lingering and the wind was whipping us all something fierce. Jackson was finally able to usher her inside with some leaves from our orange tree.


A hot towel pulled straight from the dryer felt wonderful wrapping around me. The thunder boomed outside rattling me straight to the bone.  


“SarahMae, what did Grandda tell you about yourself?” He sounded like a man with the world hang heavy on him. “I know you’re parents weren’t well informed.”


“Could’ya be more vague?”


Jackson smacked his forehead. “Do you know makes you special?”


“There ain’t nothing special about me Jackson Tolle.” I spat at him. “If that were the case my birth parents wouldn’t have died.”


“Don’t be so melodramatic, you’re not superman.”


“Than what is it? What makes me so different?”  


Jackson pointed at to the window. Inside the greenhouse you could see the shadow of the giant bushes. Bees, butterflies and ladybugs fought the winds flying in and out of the windows. “Because you’re going to save us.”


I walked out into the storm and wiped away the rain half expecting mud to already be covering my eyes. But there was nothing. Through the heavy rain I saw low creeping grass emerging from the greenhouse making its way towards the orange groves.


Laying in my bed I twisted into a small ball. Grandda’s whispers filled me with the most horrible thoughts. When the authorities first came to Earth no one ever thought we would have been persecuted. The natives had welcomed them, giving the natives the chance to no longer take responsibility for their folies. The authorities gave them that freedom while covertly destroying what we had save after the fall out.


Jackson slowly turned my door knob. I must have woken him calling out in my sleep. My mother always worried that my nightmares were memories from my infancy. She spent her life studying the effects of war on the infant's mind, I’m pretty sure that's what made her adopt out of her species. But these weren’t my dreams, there was no possible way that I could have these imagines ingrained in my from laying in the center of my crib. Maybe just the sound of the shelling brought to mind acts of war that we’re taught in school. Grandda would say my soul predated the authority which would cause my mother to roll her eyes. She never believed in the afterlife.


“You don’t have to stand there.” I patted my bed.


He was freaking me out hovering in the doorway. Rolling over I made room for him thinking he would bring me some comfort to my overactive mind. I hadn’t shared my bed with him for so long I didn’t remember the bed shifting so much.


“Why can’t you sleep?” I asked.


He didn’t answer me and I knew he wasn’t asleep. Jackson would toss and turn worse than me before eventually drifting off. Maybe he was being a brat since my back was to him. When he brushed a strand of hair from my face his fingertip hurt my skin.


“You better start wearin’ gloves. Your hands are gettin’ as rough as the authorities.”


“What’s wrong with that?” Growled behind me.


“Get out!” I tried to turn over but Jenkins’ was pinning me down.


“Just relax SarahMae, it’ll hurt less.” Jenkins free hand ripped the covers off of me.


My screams were muffled as he shoved my face into the pillow. I kicked him as hard as I could but it didn’t phase him. Yanking my hair caused my body to arch into him. I squeezed my legs shut, I was going to fight him anyway I could.


“Now,now. Are you wanting me to tear you?” He ran his fingers over my lips, his skin tore whatever hair I had away from my body. “You’re so soft.” He sucked on his fingers before shoving them inside me. “There’s a good girl.”


I couldn't breathe. He had wrapped his other hand so tightly around my neck that I was praying to black out. I felt my blood trickling down my legs.


The shattering of my sliding glass door awoke me back to the hell. Monty charged in ripping Jenkins off of me.


“Sarah are -” Jackson saw Monty stomping my assailant’s head. “Shit!”

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