Flash Fiction Friday: What Sets Us Apart

Today's flash fiction takes us back to the Icarus Universe a few hours after the events of "A Gift Horse."

You should not need to have read any of the other stories to understand this one.

What Sets Us Apart
​

“It wasn’t the easiest life,” Asa conceded with a bittersweet sigh. “It wasn’t the happiest life.” She set a tray of chicory, steaming from mismatched mugs on the table for her guests. She let out a huff. “It wasn’t even the best life, but it was mine,” she finished as she pulled out a chair and joined the couple sitting at her little table.
 
“The transition hurt,” Asa continued, drawing out the last word for emphasis. “But this group’s been good to me.” She gave the couple what she hoped came across as a reassuring smile and nodded to where their kids could be heard playing in the next room. “They can be good for your family too.”
 
“Even after they caught us raiding their fields?” the man asked. 
 
He and his wife both took mugs. Their brows furrowed, and Asa fought back an understanding grin, remembering her first reaction to the coffee substitute upon her arrival. She drank from hers in an attempt to reassure them it hadn’t been doctored in any way despite them having watched her make the pot. The woman took a hesitant sip.
 
“Berger and the council of Little Pearlington are many things,” Asa answered, “but unreasonable isn’t one of them.” She took a long sip from her own mug, relishing the warmth of the drink before she continued with a shake of her head. “If they thought you were being malicious, they would have run you off in the field, not brought you back with an offer of shelter.”

Asa chuckled. “You’ll likely be put at the bottom of the list for delivery come the first blueberry harvest later in the week,” she said, “but you won’t be unwelcome for making the mistake of thinking the farm was uninhabited.”

“You are far more civil and welcoming than we expected anyone would be, things being what they are,” the woman said.

Memories of the earliest trips topside after things happened flashed through Asa’s mind in vivid detail. They raised bumps on her skin and sent revulsed shudders down her spine, and her leg began to ache.

“You’ve Berger to thank for that, I think,” she said as she came back to herself. 

The couple watched her with expressions she couldn’t read, and that spiked her anxiety another couple degrees. Had she upset them, or were they hiding something?

“He had a reputation for taking in strays years before the whole thing started,” she explained. “So, folks came here as things got bad, hoping to trade work for safety in numbers. A decent-sized farm with a couple dozen live-in hands grew into a small town in a few months.” After another sip of chicory, Asa winced as memories struck her again. “Things aren’t near so idyllic outside of Little Pearlington.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience,” the other woman said.

Asa nodded. “I didn’t get stranded on my first relief mission,” she answered, “and the Coalition was well insulated against the EMPs that took out the networks up here. I saw how bad it got first hand and through news reports.”

The sounds of playing children in the other room drew her attention, and she blinked back tears.

“You did well, keeping them away from other folks,” she said. “The more desperate groups aren’t quite so pleasant.”

“If it’s just the luck you’ve all had keeping Little Pearlington from going down the same path,” the man said, “I’m not so sure we should stay.”

“Steven!” the woman chided under her breath.

“It’d be no different than back home, and you know it, Evie,” he muttered back.

“I understand the concern,” Asa said. “I felt the same when I first arrived, but I didn’t exactly have a choice about whether I ran or not as I healed. And I came to see there are a lot of protections against a bad harvest or two turning the group against one another.”

“Oh?” Evie regarded her with one brow raised.

Asa nodded. “Poor area in hurricane territory,” she explained. “They’re in the habit of banding together when things go south.”