Thirty Days of Drabbles - Day Four
Jul. 13th, 2011 04:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
For
chewipaka ’s prompt of “Finding a babysitter in a post-apocalyptic world”
She put the baby in the carrier after making sure the filters were brushed out, then put on her goggles and wrapped her scarf tight around her face, before she unzipped the plastic seals from the door and stepped out into the driving dust storm. The sun was a yellow blot over her head, trying to push through the permanent cloud cover.
She dodged across the street and pounded on Mr. Atchison’s door. She was greeted by a shotgun in her face, before Mr. Atchison saw the carrier and waved her in.
“Mattie,” he greeted, coughing and waving her to a chair while she unlatched the carrier to take out the baby. “What’s wrong, girl?”
“I’m out of canned stuff and the baby can’t chew on ration bars, even soaked in water,” she said. “I need to look for food.”
“Government will bring something, Mattie,” he soothed. “They’ll be by soon.”
“The government truck is two weeks late, Mr. Atchison,” Mattie said. “I need to find something now.”
“Well you can’t have any of mine,” he said truculently. “I just have rat bars myself.”
“I’m not expecting you to,” she said, bouncing the baby on her knee as he began to wail again. “I’m going to the supermarket to see if I can find anything. Shouldn’t be more than three hours, if I’m lucky.”
“Supermarket’s been stripped for a long time,” Mr. Atchison said.
“I have to look. Something might have been missed,” Mattie persisted. “Please Mr. Atchison, just three hours.”
“What if you don’t make it back? I can’t feed him myself,” Mr. Atchison demanded.
“Well…” She gave him a desperate smile. “I guess you’ll have meat for dinner tonight.”
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
She put the baby in the carrier after making sure the filters were brushed out, then put on her goggles and wrapped her scarf tight around her face, before she unzipped the plastic seals from the door and stepped out into the driving dust storm. The sun was a yellow blot over her head, trying to push through the permanent cloud cover.
She dodged across the street and pounded on Mr. Atchison’s door. She was greeted by a shotgun in her face, before Mr. Atchison saw the carrier and waved her in.
“Mattie,” he greeted, coughing and waving her to a chair while she unlatched the carrier to take out the baby. “What’s wrong, girl?”
“I’m out of canned stuff and the baby can’t chew on ration bars, even soaked in water,” she said. “I need to look for food.”
“Government will bring something, Mattie,” he soothed. “They’ll be by soon.”
“The government truck is two weeks late, Mr. Atchison,” Mattie said. “I need to find something now.”
“Well you can’t have any of mine,” he said truculently. “I just have rat bars myself.”
“I’m not expecting you to,” she said, bouncing the baby on her knee as he began to wail again. “I’m going to the supermarket to see if I can find anything. Shouldn’t be more than three hours, if I’m lucky.”
“Supermarket’s been stripped for a long time,” Mr. Atchison said.
“I have to look. Something might have been missed,” Mattie persisted. “Please Mr. Atchison, just three hours.”
“What if you don’t make it back? I can’t feed him myself,” Mr. Atchison demanded.
“Well…” She gave him a desperate smile. “I guess you’ll have meat for dinner tonight.”