It was one of those late late summer days when the heat as boiled away and one could just imagine autumn in the breeze. Lee was on point watching for game through her binoculars. Tucked high in an oak, the blind was well camouflaged by vines. Flat on her belly, still as a stone, Lee loved the quiet of the woods. Unfortunately Seabrook, her hunting partner, was more of a talker.

“You know there used to be blue people. Hand to God, blue people,” Seabrook said.

He was picking his teeth with a shiver of bone and Lee knew he was in one of his thoughtful poses. She wished she had been paired with Donner or even Fish, but there was a threat of raiding parties and their compound couldn’t afford to spare the skilled fighters. Seabrook was a year younger than her and good with a blade and a bow, he just took up so much air.

Lee decided ignoring was the best option. Every branch, every twig, was committed to memory. A slight movement, a twist of fur, caught Lee’s attention. Was it a squirrel? Her gran had told Lee about the animals from the before times. Squirrels were the fluffy tailed ones and bunnies had ears and there was something else with stripes she couldn’t remember. This fur was just a grease rat, tasty and easy enough to trap at night. The binoculars dipped as Lee imagined all the different animals there had been. She could have been an animal doctor back then. Now learning was for boys.

“And not just like a pale baby blue it’s a bit nippy in here thing no rich blue skin. The people were from a long time ago in a place called Kentucky. Something to do with the breeding, too close. Leonarda I swear hand to God they cured the blueness by making the people drink get this blue dye,” Seabrook said chuckling.

A natural hunter Lee felt the approach of her prey before her eyes and ears caught up in her senses.

“I read it in the latrine, one of those National Geographics paper we keep in there. I saved the article. I could read it to you, if you like that kind of—“

Lee’s hand shot up in a shut up fist gesture and scanned the woods. Seabrook froze, alert. Nothing. Then the breeze carried in dried chunky leaves. The sound of an old engine faded into the distance, a schoolbus. Jackpot.

Seabrook readied his compound bow. The first group hurried through the clearing. Younger kids accompanied by teens and a few parents.

“Not yet Sea.”

Another group like the first, a pair of tween girls, and then way way behind the others the perfect prey, a lone boy slightly heavy set, head down. Lee’s mouth watered thinking of well marbled muscle. She signaled three, two, one. Already in his sights, Seabrook released his arrow. Thwapt, the arrow whispered. Seabrook holstered his weapon and picked up the tarp. Lee handed him the rope to secure the catch.

“Did you mean it about the reading?” Lee asked.

“Anything for you Leonarda.”

Embarrassed Lee began packing up. They would break down the pop up blind and cart their catch to a field station closer to home base. Silent and fast they worked together. Hiking double time out of the kill zone eyes on swivel for cops or raiders, Lee wondered if blue people tasted funny.