Work In Progress: Screechers, Chapter 4

Echo's world falls apart

The greenhouse’s iron frame groaned beneath the wind.

Echo shoved her hands into her gardening gloves and crouched beside the carrots. They weren’t fully grown, but if she had to stare into another pot of salted water or hear another growling stomach, she would lose what little hope she had left.

After finishing the carrots, she snagged the pitchfork and marched past the very green, very fruitless orange trees. Beside the front entrance were the compost tubs, and with a grunt, she set to churning the first. It felt good to beat out her frustrations on the decomposing soil. So focused was she that she didn’t notice four new faces wandering into the greenhouse until they were right beside her.

Echo’s breath caught. She paused mid-churn, eyes bugging. She could barely manage to get all the kids to eat, much less work. Sure, she had been praying that maybe, as their grief passed one by one, they would end up in front of her, ready to help, but she hadn’t been stupid enough to think it would …