home

search

7 – Good Old Days

  “Wake up, Kerry! It’s your turn to feed the cows,” her brother Jack yelled, pounding on her door.

  She looked at her clock and cursed. “Go away, it’s 5 a.m.,” she screamed. “I’ve another hour of sleep, ya bloody wanker.”

  Jack chuckled from the other side of the door, completely unfazed. “Get up! They’re not going to feed themselves.”

  Eh, of all her fucking brothers, Jack was the worst. The eldest, he thought he was in charge. At least Samuel and Jonathan had the decency to let her sleep in occasionally. Jack, on the other hand, had spent too much time being barked at by sergeants. He thought it was his God-given right to pass that misery onto her.

  With a groan, she threw off the covers and sat up. The cold morning air bit at her skin, making her second-guess her decision to leave the warmth of her bed. She rubbed her eyes, stretched, and yawned. Outside, she could hear the distant lowing of the cattle, along with the rhythmic creak of the windmill pumping water.

  Kerrigan pulled on her worn work jeans and an old hoodie, yanking her boots on with a practiced stomp. She grabbed her hat off the dresser and shoved it on her head before stomping toward the door. As she pulled it open, she found Jack leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed, smirking.

  “Took you long enough,” he said.

  Kerrigan rolled her eyes and shoved past him, muttering under her breath, “Prick.”

  Jack just laughed and followed her down the hallway and out the back door, stepping onto the dewy grass of the homestead. The sky was still dark, but the faintest hints of orange were creeping along the horizon.

  They walked toward the barn in silence. Jack had never been much of a talker when he wasn’t trying to boss her around. It was one of the few things she actually appreciated about him. That, and despite how annoying he was, she did miss him when he was away.

  “How’s it feel to be back?” she finally asked, keeping her tone casual.

  Jack took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Strange,” he admitted. “Quiet.”

  Kerrigan scoffed. “Bet you won’t think that once Mum gets up and starts yelling about the laundry.”

  Jack chuckled but didn’t respond.

  They reached the barn, and Kerrigan flicked on the lights, illuminating rows of stacked hay bales and the slow, sleepy movement of the cows in their stalls. She grabbed a bucket of grain and started pouring it into the trough while Jack leaned against a wooden post, watching.

  “You ever think about it?” Jack asked suddenly.

  She glanced at him. “Think about what?”

  “Joining up.”

  Kerrigan snorted. “Hell no.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  “Because I like sleeping in, and I hate being yelled at.” She shot him a pointed look.

  Jack smirked. “Yeah, well, you get used to it.”

  She shook her head. “Nah, mate. The army’s your thing, not mine. I’d rather stick to fixing things than getting shot at.”

  Jack was quiet for a moment before he nodded. “Fair enough.”

  They finished feeding the cows in silence. The sun had started to rise, casting long golden shadows across the fields. Kerrigan took a deep breath, savouring the crisp morning air. She’d grown up here. This was home. The idea of leaving it behind for something like the army? It didn’t seem like her.

  And yet, something in the back of her mind whispered.

  The only way out is up.

  She shook the thought away.

  Right now, all she cared about was getting through another day without Jack nagging her to death.

  By the time they finished with the cows, the sky had fully brightened, casting warm hues over the rolling pastures. Kerrigan wiped her hands on her jeans and stretched, glancing toward the house where she could already hear the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen.

  “Mum’s up,” she muttered.

  Jack grinned. “Better you than me.”

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  “Bullshit,” she shot back. “Your home, which means you’re getting the first earful.”

  Jack groaned. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

  They trudged back toward the house, boots kicking up bits of dry dirt as the scent of bacon and eggs drifted through the crisp morning air. As soon as they stepped inside, their mother, Margaret Kerrigan, turned from the stove with her hands on her hips.

  “Look who finally decided to do some farm work,” she said, eyeing Jack with a knowing smirk.

  “Morning, Mum,” Jack said, kissing her on the cheek before slipping past her and making a beeline for the coffee pot.

  Margaret shook her head, turning her sharp gaze on Kerrigan. “And you. You’re up unusually early?”

  Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “Ask your favourite firstborn here. He’s the one who wouldn’t shut up and dragged me out of bed.”

  Jack, mid-sip of coffee, made an exaggerated offended face. “Oi, I was doing my duty.”

  Margaret snorted. “You’ve been back two weeks, and you’re already harassing your sister like you never left.”

  “Some things don’t change,” Kerrigan muttered, grabbing a plate and loading it with eggs and toast before dropping into a chair at the kitchen table.

  Samuel and Jonathan walked in a few moments later, both looking far more well-rested than she felt. Samuel, the second oldest, was as sharp-eyed as ever, his Army officer demeanour still present even in casual clothes. Jonathan, the youngest of the boys, yawned as he plopped into the chair across from her, his Navy sweater hanging loosely over his frame. Somehow, they had all managed to align their leave and get home at the same time. Johnathan was still training down at HMAS Cerberus, and Samuel was back from Germany. Not an easy task.

  “Mornin’,” Jonathan mumbled, stealing a piece of toast from her plate.

  She smacked his hand. “Get your own, you leech.”

  He grinned but grabbed his own plate. Samuel, on the other hand, studied her for a moment before speaking. “You look tired, Kerry.”

  “She was up early feeding the cows,” Jack said, grinning over his coffee cup.

  “Yeah, thanks to you,” Kerrigan shot back.

  Margaret clucked her tongue. “Well, if you lot are done bickering, eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

  For a few moments, the kitchen was filled with the familiar sounds of forks scraping against plates and the occasional clinking of coffee mugs. It was a rare moment of quiet.

  Then Samuel cleared his throat. “So, Kerry, what’s the plan?”

  Kerrigan frowned. “What plan?”

  “You’re nearly done with school,” he said. “Figured you’d have some idea of what you want to do next.”

  She hesitated. Truthfully, she didn’t know. The idea of leaving the farm had always been a distant thought, something she figured she’d worry about when the time came. But now? With Jack back from deployment and Samuel talking like she had some grand future waiting?

  “I dunno,” she admitted. “Hadn’t really thought about it. What is this an intervention?”

  Samuel hummed, exchanging a glance with Jack. “You’d do well in the Army, you know.”

  Kerrigan groaned. “Not this again.”

  “Think about it,” Jack added. “You’re good with your hands, you’ve got a sharp mind, and you don’t back down from a fight. The Combat Engineers could use someone like you.”

  She shook her head. “As earlier, I like fixing things. Not getting shot at or being blown up.”

  Johnathan chuckled. “Not all of them explode. Just most. You could always join the Navy like yours truly. Or hotel Air Force and the family will have the trifecta.”

  Jack and Sam flicked some eggs at John.

  “Yeah right”, Jack said

  “As if”, followed Sam.

  Kerrigan rolled her eyes, but the conversation lingered in her mind.

  Jack shrugged. “Just saying, you should consider it. The farm’s always here, but there’s a whole world out there too.”

  The only way out is up.

  That whisper again.

  She shoved it aside and focused on finishing her breakfast.

  “Yeah, well, I’ll think about it,” she muttered, though she wasn’t sure if she meant it.

  Jack smirked. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  The scent of fresh bacon lingered in the air. The warmth of the rising sun kissed her skin, the soft murmur of her brothers’ voices echoing in the background. She could still feel the weight of the coffee mug in her hands, the familiar hum of home settling into her bones—

  Then it was gone.

  Kerrigan’s eyes snapped open.

  The comforting warmth of home was replaced by the cold, oppressive air of the Citadel. The scent of bacon faded into the lingering musk of ancient stone, sweat, and the blood still crusted on the cloths she’d gotten at the arena, that she hadn’t even bothered to take off before she passed out. She really needed a shower.

  She exhaled sharply and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to shake off the heavy weight of her dream. It had felt too real, like she had truly been back on the farm, arguing with Jack, listening to her mother’s voice, feeling the comfort of her home beneath her feet.

  But that world was gone.

  She sat up, stretching her aching muscles. The mattress beneath her was stiff, the blanket thin and barely enough to keep the cold at bay. She glanced at the small window. It was still dark, however the large moon shone just a tad brighter and the green tinged one was no where in sight. Perhaps it was morning—at least, whatever passed for morning in this place.

  A loud knock at the door jolted her fully awake.

  “Squire Kerrigan,” a gruff voice barked from the other side. “You’re expected in the training yard in fifteen minutes. Get moving.”

  She groaned. No gentle wake-ups here either, apparently.

  Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stood and rolled her shoulders. The stiffness hadn’t left since her fight in the arena. She was still sore, still bruised, and she was willing to bet today would bring even more punishment.

  Her tail flicked behind her, a reminder of what she had become.

  She moved to the small wooden chest at the foot of her bed, flipping it open to find a basic uniform—sturdy black leather reinforced with dark steel plating on the shoulders and forearms. The weight of it was a stark contrast to the loose, comfortable clothes she was currently wearing, but at least these ones weren’t crusty.

  As she got dressed, she couldn’t help but check her energy levels. A quick gesture reveled that she hadn’t lost any money overnight. Money, souls. She kept thinking of it as money by these were living things she was burning up. How is it any different from eating a chicken though, she thought, Chickens aren’t sentient…I think. She would need more soon regardless.

  “Move it, Out-realmer, or I’ll drag you out myself.”, came the voice.

  Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

  Taking one last deep breath, she squared her shoulders, grabbed her axe, and stepped out into the cold corridors of the Citadel.

  Her training was about to begin.

  And she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like it.

Recommended Popular Novels