Half Dead World: Book One from the Apocalypse Tales by Adrienne Hargrove (little readers txt) 📗

look before dipping his already bare feet into the cool water of the pool. He ended up playing at my house that entire day, and even stayed for dinner. He insisted that my mom did not need to call his dad and ask for permission because his dad would be at work until after seven. Even though Fin was reluctant, my dad held firm on driving him home, so his father wouldn’t worry about who his son was playing with. Slightly panicked, Fin tried to assure my parents that his dad would never worry about him, but my dad was already looking for his car keys. Minutes later they were headed for the door, and Fin was promising me he would come back to play as soon as he could.

 That night I woke from a bad dream and went to parents’ room for comfort. I heard my dad’s low, gentle voice, speaking to my mom about Fin and his dad. I couldn’t hear everything, but what I did hear both disturbed and confused me. My mom’s voice was quiet but anxious as she said “Maybe we shouldn’t let Haven play with him. With that kind of life, sooner or later he is going to end up in trouble and I don’t want Haven around when it happens.”

“Kelly, that’s not very kind, and if that boy needs anything, its kindness. He has a good heart- he is a protector… I can see it in him.”

“He’s not Oliver, Chris.”

“I know, Kelly, but after meeting his dad, I just know we are meant to help him. At the very least we can show him a little compassion and decency. We can show him that one day his life can be different, that his future doesn’t have to be so grim.”

I heard my mom sigh. “Okay…of course your right. I don’t know how I could be so selfish. We should do whatever we can for him, poor thing, he’s practically a baby.”

“You’re not selfish, Kelly, you are a protector also, and I know you just want keep Haven safe. It’s only natural after losing Oliver, but we can’t let fear dictate our actions.”

“All right, what can we do to help him?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think there is anything we can do about his living situation. On the way to his house Fin told me his mom died when he was three and that he has no other relatives.”

“Hmm, it’s strange that he volunteered so much information to you. He seemed so tight lipped about his home life at dinner.”

“I imagine he knew what I would think when I met his dad. He is a very intuitive little boy. I would be willing to bet he is well aware of what goes on inside the United Administration's orphanages. “

“If he knows even a little of what happens there, he will know he is most likely better off with an abusive parent than living under the care of the U. A. Has your legal team made any progress in convincing President Liu to let churches take over the care of orphans?”

“No, and it seems like every petition we draft just creates more friction between the church and government. I am afraid if we keep trying, we will just make the church into an even bigger target for the government. It would appear that President Liu is very fond of her orphanages.”

“What Liu is fond of is the economic surplus her orphanages maintain. I just don’t understand how so many people are willing to turn a blind eye to the suffering of the children who have become wards of the U. A.”

I quietly crept back to my bed and laid awake most of the night considering what I had heard. I tried to make sense of it all, but there were just too many unanswered questions. So, I picked what most confused me, and later that week, I asked my mom who Oliver was. Her eyes filled with tears that never spilled over, she sat on the couch and, gathered me up in her lap. Then in a slightly choked voice, she told me about Oliver. She said that two years before I was born her and Daddy had a little boy named Oliver, and he was precious, and beautiful. Her gaze looked far away when she said that daddy has always had a special gift, to be able to read people and know what their gifts are. Oliver would have been a protector, but two months after he was born, he got very sick and died. I asked her, “What kind of sick did he get?” She said the doctors told them that Oliver’s, brain swelled, and he had a seizure, but they never could explain to them what had caused it. I asked her if I had a gift, she gave me a squeeze and smiled down at me. “Daddy says you are a seeker.”

“What’s that?” I asked, somewhat disappointed. It didn’t sound nearly as cool as a protector.

“It is a person who is compelled by something inside them to seek out the truth. A seeker wants the answers to life’s mysteries and has no problem challenging what some people consider common knowledge, in order to find the truth. They are usually very curious and highly intelligent.”

“Hmm, I guess that’s an okay gift.” Mom gave a light laugh and kissed my forehead.

Seeker or not, my seven, year old self was overwhelmed with too much tragic information, and after she told me Oliver’s story, I didn’t even want to ask my mom what was so bad about Fin’s dad.

I never heard my parents talk about Oliver again. Fin, however, started visiting nearly every day. Once school started Fin would come to my house after school and we would do our homework as quickly as possible, then we would play outside in my yard until dark. Most nights, Fin