Freewriting: A Story Told in Drabbles: Part 6

Marjorie shifted the rubble around with her hands, calling out in the darkness.
“Jolie? Jolie!” Her voice was close to giving out now. She coughed.
Her eyes swept over the scene, once, twice, but no hand nor foot could be seen.
“Jolie,” she whispered through tears.
“Marj, I think she’s gone,” Edie said, bouncing a bawling Tavis on her hip. She held up a lantern covered in soot.
They had huddled together in the shelter beneath the barn when the bomb dropped. Hours of digging each other out had followed.
“No. No, we’re going to find her, even if it’s to give her a proper funeral.”
Tavis sniffled, Edie’s stomach growled.
Marjorie stopped. She had made a promise to keep them ALL safe and she had failed.
She coughed and stood up. “Have you found any meat?”
Edie nodded. “The food cellar is intact.”
Marjorie threw her hands up and thanked the Virgin Mary.
“We need wood and pots and water,” she said, ticking them off her fingers. “And oil.”
“Let’s build it close to the barn.”
Marjorie perked up. She could keep looking for Jolie.
Edie looked at her older sister and felt her heart break. Marjorie was trying so hard to be their mother, but she wasn’t a day over 17. She handed a fussy Tavis to Marjorie.
“You get what you can from the pantry.” She pointed to a spot by the apple orchard. “I’ll look around for firewood.”
They built a small fire and Marjorie hung two small hens to roast. She kept her eyes on the debris pile.
Marjorie sat Tavis on her lap and played with him for a bit. After a bit, Edie offered to go for more wood, but when she turned she stopped cold.
“Marj,” she said softly.
“Hmm?”
“There’s a man over there.”

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