The Hunger

Cindy watched as last hint of the red sun dipped below the horizon. She wrung her hands as she paced back and forth; the knot of worry in her belly overtaking her pangs of hunger. She remembered when the sun was a golden ball in the sky, but those days were gone.

She had idly observed as mankind tortured Mother Earth; tearing off her cloak of trees; raping her soil, plunging deep to extract her oil, coal, and diamonds. Mankind had violated her water and defiled her air with careless abandon. They had ripped her apart and she could take only so much torture. Mother Earth was dying, but not without a fight.

Fires, floods, and earthquakes, wreaked the earth. The waters were emptying of living organisms. The contaminated earth was refusing to grow anything.  The sky was dark with smoke, and the sun blazed red. In ten short years, the world Cindy once knew had become a dangerous place in a fight for survival.

That afternoon, Cindy had been preparing for another foraging mission when her fifteen year old daughter, Cassie, laid a hand on her shoulder.

 “Mom, you were out all night. You haven’t eaten in a week and you need your rest. I can handle this.”

“I’m not letting you go out there alone,” Cindy said as she looked at her daughter’s emaciated body.

They needed food desperately and Cindy was exhausted from looking for something to fill their bellies.

“I know what I’m doing, Mom. You taught me well. Besides, it is the middle of the day. You rest and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Cassie kissed her mother’s forehead and whispered, “I love you,” as she walked out the door.

Cindy now wondered what kind of a mother would willingly put her child in such danger.

When Cassie was born, Cindy was the most loving of mothers. She would take Cassie to the park, sing silly songs, bake cookies with her, and then read her bedtime stories as she rocked her to sleep. She would shower her with affection – little kisses on the cheeks and bear hugs several times a day. She had dreamed of all the milestones to come – prom, graduation, marriage, and being a grandmother, but those dreams were not to be.

Instead of teaching Cassie how to write the alphabet or to add and subtract, Cindy taught her how to survive. She showed her how to set traps for game; how to build a fire; how to set a perimeter of protection; and, most importantly, how to defend herself because the world had become a very dangerous place. Provisions were limited and the fight for survival was ruthless. There were no pretty dresses and high heels. It was camouflage cargo pants and work boots now. Fancy steak dinners with wine in elegant restaurants were a thing of the past. Cindy taught Cassie how to root for grubs and worms; how to shoot and skin pigeons; how to trap rats, frogs, bats, and snakes – whatever nourishment they could find. Most importantly, Cindy taught Cassie how to defend herself because it was desperate times and people were willing to resort to desperate measures.

Cindy marveled at how much she had changed. Time and circumstance had transformed her into someone she hardly recognized. It had started with small things – trespassing and stealing - which went against everything she believed in her prior life. She wrestled with her conscience, knowing what she was doing was wrong, but she reasoned whatever Higher Being there might be, would forgive her. As time went on, she did unimaginable things in order to survive and her conscience became quieter and quieter. Whereas, she once would ruminate if she was rude to a sales clerk, now she could slit a man’s throat to take his can of peas and not give it a second thought.  And she wondered what kind of an example she was setting for her daughter. She knew how depraved she had become and wondered how much worse she could get.

Cindy grabbed her jacket and her knives and headed out the door. She had to find Cassie.

The moon cast a feeble light on the old school. The wind swept icy fingers down Cindy’s back. A pile of leaves rustled and swirled and an old swing set screeched as it swung back and forth like a pendulum. Cindy scanned the lot for any sign of movement. Finding none, she squeezed her body through the gap in the chain link fence, her ears perked for any sound of danger. She crouched low, making her way along the fence line until she could dart across the parking lot. She eased the back door open; it howled in protest, screeching like fingernails on a chalkboard. Cindy paused to make sure no guards appeared, but the moans and groans from the people inside deadened what noise she made. She entered the building and the stench of mildew, rot, and unwashed bodies assailed her senses. Cindy silently inched her way to the gymnasium, slowly slithering along the wall until she found the bleachers. She crouched low, hiding behind the seats. She knew she had to be careful as it was feeding time for the horde.

Cindy watched the swarm of hollow eyed, emaciated people and knew she looked no better. The crowd started to part as they formed a queue, leaving her with a direct line of vision to the center stage. Her heart shattered as she realized there was nothing she could do; she was too late. 

Two men were holding Cassie; stretching her arms out like a gruesome parody of Christ on the cross. Another man withdrew a knife from his belt and cut a strip of flesh from Cassie’s arm. He tossed it to the first person. He cut another sliver and passed it to the next person. 

Cindy’s eyes filled with tears and her mouth with saliva as she joined the line-up.  She loved her daughter; she truly did, but she was hungry, too.