The Survivors (Book 1): Summer (19 page)

BOOK: The Survivors (Book 1): Summer
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I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the metallic scent of blood, just waiting for it to be over.

***

When the transfusion was done, I helped Michael back to his room.
 He was pale and shaky from blood loss and did not complain when I tucked him back into bed with doctor's orders to stay put.  Feeling unexpectedly protective, I brought him some fruit and water a few minutes later, and waited with him while he ate.

When he finally closed his eyes to rest, I left him to it.
 I closed the door softly and padded back out into the hallway with barefoot stealth, to check on the doctor and Dog.

The doctor looked exhausted, and was intensely focused on his patient.
 I suspected that he would get so wrapped up in his patient he’d forget about himself, so I brought him some food and water as well.

It took a fair amount of bullying to get him to take food with his patient struggling for life.
 Eventually, I managed to convince him that Dog stood no chance at all if his doctor fainted from hunger when he needed him most.  When I was sure I could trust him to take care of his own needs as well, I departed and went off to check on the others.

Maddy was still sleeping, innocent as the child she was,
so I left her in peace.  I found Ryan and Skylar hard at work mopping up blood, so I joined them instead.  Three sets of hands would make the work go faster, and there was an awful lot of blood.  We worked in silence for some time, until Skye finally got up to go take the soiled towels off to be washed, leaving me alone with Ryan.

His head came up and he watched her until she was out of earshot.
 When she was gone, he turned to me with a worried look on his face.

"
Skye told me what you said to her yesterday, about the immunity."

My heart sank, but I nodded.
 "I only know what I’ve read.  I don't know if there’s more to it, or maybe they were wrong."

"
We don't want to risk it."  His voice was soft.  "We're going to leave, go south, try and find a little farm somewhere.  We want our baby to be born as far away from danger as possible."

This time my heart went the exact opposite direction and leapt up into my throat.
 "You're leaving?  Have you– have you told Michael yet?"

"
Not yet.  We only decided last night."  Ryan looked down at the puddle he was mopping, a myriad of emotions playing across his face.  "We're not really a hundred per cent sure what we’re going to do.  From what you've said, there's a whole bunch of other dangers out there.  And now these– things, these mutants, killing us one by one."

"
You're just thinking about your baby's safety.  I understand."  I felt sick at the thought of losing my sister after I'd only just found her, but equally sick about leaving sweet Michael and little Maddy behind.  And the doctor, too.  I was still a little uncertain about how I felt, but I understood why he’d said those awful things about me and I was in the process of forgiving him.  "Maybe we should all go.  It would be safer in numbers."

Ryan looked at me with a mixture of hope and despair.
 "Do you think they would?"

"
I don't know.  But like you said, it's not safe here anymore."  I tossed a bloody towel out of the way, then I looked at his earnest young face and offered him a faint smile.  "We'll talk about it with Michael when he recovers.  I know a place we could go, for a while at least."

"
Really?"  His expression brightened.

"
Yeah, there's this town south of here that I spent some time in."  It felt strange to willingly share my haven with others, but it also felt like the right thing to do.  "It's as safe as any other place I’ve seen down there.  It could probably be even safer if we put a little effort in to fortifying it."

He nodded, and hope brought a smile to his freckled face.
 I offered a silent prayer that I wasn’t leading the lad to his death, or worse.

Only time would tell.

***

In spite of everyone's best efforts, the kid named Dog died two days later, surrounded by the group of survivors he'd come to call his family.
 Just before he passed, he managed to tell Michael what happened to him with awkward, one-handed sign language.

"
He was with his dog when they attacked him." Michael was translating for us, signing back to the boy to confirm he understood what he was being told.  The boy nodded stiffly, his one good eye almost glazed over.  "Several infected knocked him down, and they were eating him when his dog attacked them.  His dog fought for him while he ran away, and then he came home as fast as he could."

Eating him?
 I felt sick at the thought and leaned against Skylar for support.  Judging by how pale she was, she was caught up on the same word as well.

Dog’s hand was trembling as he signed, making it hard for Michael to understand him.

"What?"  Michael looked confused and upset, signing to the young boy and speaking out loud for our sake.  "Of course you'll go to Heaven one day, son, but not yet."

Dog smiled weakly up at him and shook his head, then signed one last sentence before he rested his head back on his pillow and closed his eye.
 With one last deep, rattling breath, he left our mortal world of suffering to explore whatever lay beyond.

We all knew instinctively that he was gone, even before the doctor leaned over to check his pulse.
 Skye burst into tears and hugged me, while I stood dumbstruck, not sure how to feel.  I hadn't known him at all, and now he was one more person that I would never have the opportunity to meet; I felt a sense of grief and loss for the friendship we would never be able to share.

I would never have the opportunity to ask him how old he was.
 Never have the chance to ask how he got his name.  We would never get to share those moments of laughter and camaraderie or any of the other things I longed for over the years.

I looked at Michael, and found him staring at that young face, that seemed so very small against the pillows.

"What did he say?"  I asked, even though I was afraid to hear the answer.

Michael looked at me, his expression unreadable.
 At first, he didn't quite seem to understand the question.  It took a second before comprehension sunk in, and then he closed his eyes and smiled weakly.

"
He said he was going to go see Sophie again.  He promised to tell her how much we all loved her."  His voice shook and cracked, but somehow he stayed strong.

I didn't.
 That was enough for me.  I melted down in tears, and cried for what felt like a very long time.

***

We buried them side by side, in Soldiers Memorial Park.  It seemed like an appropriate place to entomb survivors who had spent their whole lives fighting an impossible enemy against insurmountable odds, and it was a beautiful green place where the huge, old willow trees overhung the river.

A nice place to spend the rest of eternity.

Wildflowers had already begun to grow atop Sophie's grave.   As the men lay Dog into a hole beside her, I marvelled at how swiftly nature reclaims us when we are gone.

I knelt and picked a particularly beautiful flower that grew at my feet, and wonder briefly what species it was.
 I didn’t know, but it was lovely.  I stepped close to the grave and I dropped it atop the corpse before they began to shovel the dirt onto him.  Perhaps the flower's seeds would sprout and cover the grave with its children.

The sun felt far too bright to be putting someone so young into the earth.
 I had found out his age after all, from Michael and the others.  He was only twenty-three.

I blinked back tears as I retreated to where Skylar stood holding Madeline, who watched blankly as the men laboured to shift the dirt back into the hole.
 She looked up at me as I neared her, then suddenly a bright smile lit up her young face.

"
Don't worry, Miss Sandy." She reached out and took my hand.  "Mummy and Sophie will take good care of him."

I smiled weakly back at her, uncertain what I believed.
 Once I had been like her, innocent and full of absolute trust.  Now, I wasn’t so sure.

In the golden sunshine that filtered through the leaves, we watched the men working, the sweat glistening on their backs.
 It was the heat of summer and even under the shade of the trees, it was swelteringly hot.  Although I hadn’t been outside in days, I already longed to retreat back to the cool, dark bunker that had become home so quickly.

But I couldn't.
 There were important things that needed to be discussed and time was of the essence.  I waited until they patted down the last shovelful of earth, and everyone got their chance to say goodbye.  On the way back to the car, I drew Michael aside with a gentle touch on the arm.

When the others were out of earshot, I told him about my conversation with Ryan two days before and about the fear the young couple held for their baby.
 That combined with the threat from these new mutated infected made me feel a sense of urgency to get out of the area, but I desperately wanted to convince him to join us.  I couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving him behind.

"
If two of us are going, then we should all go.  She's my sister so I have to, but she's going to need the doctor when she gives birth, and we all rely on you for leadership."  I paused for breath as the words tumbled out, worried by his peculiar expression.   "We need to get out of here, get away from those things before they kill us all.  You know what I mean, right?"

He nodded slowly as he mulled over what I said, his expression distant.
 When he finally spoke, his answer was not the one I was hoping for.  "You're right. You should go somewhere safer.  I'll remain here, and kill as many of those new things as I can."

"
What?  No!"  I must have exclaimed louder than I meant to – I saw a couple of faces turn towards us, watching curiously.  Ignoring them, I reached out and grabbed his hand.  "You have to come with us as well."

"
Why?  You don't need me.  I haven’t done a very good job at protecting any of you so far."  Somehow, he seemed to look like a lost little boy despite his stiff posture.  Gazing up at him, I realised that he felt responsible for the deaths of those closest to him.  My heart did a somersault in my chest.

"
Don't be silly. "  I squeezed his hand firmly.  "We do need you, and you have done a very good job of protecting us.  Bad things happen sometimes – it’s not your fault.  We need you, Michael, now more than ever."  Caught in a sudden, confusing surge of emotion, I brought his hand to my chest and wrapped my fingers around it.  "
I
need you."

He stared at me, bewildered, until finally the pieces seemed to click together in his head.
 Then he looked away, towards the car full of people whose lives depended on him.

Finally, he took a deep breath and nodded once.

Just like that, the decision was made.  We would all leave the only home he'd known for more than a decade and together, we would travel to another place.  They were putting their faith in my knowledge as they set out into the unknown.

I just hoped that I had enough knowledge to keep us all alive.

Chapter Seventeen

Having a plan of action helped to keep everyone from falling apart in the wake of Dog's death.
 When we returned to the bunker, Michael called a meeting to discuss the options for our departure.  It was agreed by universal consensus that Ohaupo was the place to go, since it was the only place any of us had been to recently that was still secure and reasonably well supplied, with ready access to farmland.

What to do with the supplies in the bunker was an issue.
 The only functional vehicle we had was my utility, and if we crammed everyone into it then there would be no room left for anything else.  We needed to find more vehicles.

As the only member of the group with any mechanical knowledge, however rudimentary it was, that task fell to me.
 The others began organising what needed to be taken with us, and packing it into anything they could find that would make it easier to move.

There was also a new rule in the group: Nobody was to go anywhere alone, or without a weapon.
 Since the only weapons we had were my pistol and taser and Michael's shotgun, the new rule meant only two of us could leave the bunker at any one time.  After what happened to Dog and Sophie, it seemed like a reasonable precaution.

I spent the first morning after Dog's death in the bunker's underground garage, examining the vehicles the others deemed unsalvageable.
 Since they had no idea what they were looking at, I had decided to take a look at the wrecks myself before I wrote them off.  

I discovered that the majority of the vehicles were either completely useless or only good for parts, but there were a couple I thought I could fix up with a bit of
effort.  One in particular caught my eye – a large prisoner transport, with barred windows and double-locks on the back.

I was lying on the ground beneath the transport van when Michael came looking for me around midday.
 I saw his boots walk past, and then he stopped and looked about before cautiously calling my name.

"
Sandy?"

"
Down here."  The sound of my voice from an unexpected direction made him jump.  He looked around, confused, before finally noticing my feet sticking out from beneath the transport.  With a soft grunt, he eased himself down to ground level to peer at me.

"
What are you doing down here?"  He asked curiously.

"
Salvaging." I gave him a playful smile.

He raised a brow.
 "And?"

"
Well, I have good news.  A few of the spark plugs needed to be replaced and some of the cables were perished, but I’ve managed to salvage replacement parts from one of the other trucks.  I think once the battery is charged, this one will be good to go."

I finished up
what I was doing and eased myself out from under the van.  Michael offered me a hand up and I took it, glad for the assistance.  Once I was back on my feet, I grabbed a rag I left nearby and used it to wipe the grease off my hands.

"
That is good news," he agreed, examining the solid-looking van with an approving eye.  Like me, he knew at a glance that we could fit a lot of good supplies in the back of a vehicle that size.  Those kind, dark eyes shifted back to me, and he gave me a quirky smile.  "You missed a spot."

"
Ehh?"

"
Right here."  He reached over, and wiped a spot of grease off the tip of my nose.  I felt my cheeks burn at the contact, but he pretended not to notice.

"
Oh, thanks.  Didn't see it.  Remind me to enjoy another hot shower before we leave." I sighed.  The thought of losing the hot water was too tragic to imagine.

"
No hot water where we're going?"  He looked equally disappointed.

"
Not unless we can find a heating coil before we go."  I shook my head.  "I turned that township upside down looking for one before I hurt myself, but they were all blown."

"
Hmmm."  He stared thoughtfully off into space. "Actually, I think I know a place.  A plumbing supply store.  I found it a few years ago, but I didn’t need anything at the time so I left it untouched."

"
Add that to the list of things we need to do before we go."  I heaved another long-suffering sigh, and then shot a sideways glance at him.  "What about weapons?  Any hunting stores here?  I’m not familiar with the area."

"
Nothing in the way of guns, if that’s what you’re asking."  Michael grimaced and shook his head.  "There used to be, but they were looted or burned out in the riots, and someone cleared out the gun lockers down here before I had a chance to look."   He paused for a moment, then flicked an uncomfortable glance at me.  "I got my shotgun off a corpse, in the early days right after the riots.  We’ve found a few others since then but they were all too rusted to be any good to us."

"
Damn.  Well, at least you’ve got spare ammunition."  I decided that it was politic to change the conversation at that point – Michael looked a little uncomfortable talking about weapons, and I couldn’t blame him.  It was a cultural thing.  We Kiwis always were peaceful little birds.  "So, what are you doing here, anyway?"

"
I came to call you to lunch, madam."  He put on his best charming smile and sketched a mocking half-bow. "We need to make sure you put on some more weight before we go."

The playful wit and the quick, appraising glance he gave my physique made me flush all over again.
 Suddenly I felt awkward and uncomfortable.  I wasn’t sure how to deal with such obvious flirtation.

I settled for my usual defence mechanism: sarcasm.

"What, are you saying I’m too thin?"  I put on an offended face.  "I’ll have you know that the emaciated look is totally en vogue at the moment."

Thankfully, he took my comment the way it was intended and laughed.
 Without being invited, he slipped an arm around my waist, and I let him.  Despite my nerves around other people, there was just something about him that put me completely at ease.

"
Ah, mademoiselle." Michael faked a French accent teasingly. "I am afraid that your fash-ions are somewhat, how you say, out of date?"

I smiled, my embarrassment alleviated by the levity.
 In the week I’d spent in the bunker enjoying good food and minimal exercise, I’d gained a decent amount of healthy weight – a fact which he clearly hadn’t missed, either.  As we walked, I caught him glancing down at me on occasion, studying me with interest.

"
What?"  I asked at last, curious and slightly unsettled by his glances.

"
Just thinking that you’re filling out rather nicely," he answered softly.  The humour was gone now and replaced by that gentle kindness that I’d come to appreciate. And something else.

I would say that got me blushing, but my cheeks were already on fire.
 Aside from sunburn, it was the biggest disadvantage of being as fair as I was – the slightest blush was painfully obvious.

"
Are you calling me fat?"  I retorted, I didn’t know how else to react, so I fell back into humour.

He, however, did not.

"No."  His voice was a whisper, and his arm tightened around my waist. I tensed, but his strength was tempered with gentleness.  Suddenly, he stopped walking and caught my chin, to turn my face up towards his.  "Never."

There was more to the word than just the obvious, I could sense it.
 He didn’t even have to say it; I saw it in those dark, fathomless eyes as I gazed up at him, frozen with indecision and confusion.

He would never hurt me.

He would never let anyone else hurt me.

He would never leave me all alone, unless I told him to.

His face was so close to mine that I could smell his scent, feel his breath on my skin.  Even so, the kiss caught me by surprise.  The wild part of me panicked, terrified and desperate to get away, but for once it was held in check by the rational, intelligent part of me.

That was the part of me that longed to be close to someone, to be cared about again.
 That was the part that was so fascinated by my growing attraction to the man who had almost killed me and then saved my life within the span of a few minutes.  That was the part of me that wanted this kiss so badly.

My eyes closed as his lips tasted mine, softly, as though expecting at any moment that I would panic and flee.
 He was right, of course.  He understood me so well already.  If it had been anyone else, then I would never have let that kiss happen.  I would have fought him for all I was worth.  

Not with this man, though.
 I’d come to understand him in the short time we’d known each other.  I understood that he had nothing but the best of intentions for me, and that when he kissed me it was because he meant it.

 
I drew a sharp breath when our lips parted, my heart racing, my mind surging with a mix of fear and longing.  When my eyes finally opened, I found him looking down at me with a bemused smile on his face. I felt a stab of concern.  "What now?"

"
I just had a silly thought."  He looked a touch embarrassed as he trailed gentle fingers along the length of my jaw.  "Like, maybe I should thank you for not hitting me."

I stared at him.

"You hit like a truck!"  He exclaimed, sounding defensive.

"
Um— you’re welcome."  My brain was in a million places all at once, and I couldn’t quite process his humour.  Sensing my need for time, Michael let the conversation lapse into silence and led me the rest of the way to the kitchen.  Just before we arrived his arm slid away and I found myself experiencing a sense of loss that I hadn’t expected, a feeling that left me even more confused.

"
Why is my sister the colour of a tomato?"  

Skylar’s voice cut through my confusion like a knife, and I shot her an embarrassed glance.
 She eyeballed me and Michael both, like she sensed something was going on, but Michael only shrugged and let me keep my privacy.

I felt a flood of relief at his discretion.
 Of course, Skye would be the first person I talked to if I decided I wanted to talk, but I needed the time to figure out how I felt before I said anything to anyone.

I eased myself into a chair to take the weight off my injured foot, mumbling something non-committal about not feeling well.
 With a knowing smirk, my sister set a bowl in front of me, and put a fork in my hand.

The group dynamic had changed since my arrival.
 They had gone from each making and eating their own food to sharing group meals at every opportunity, cooked by whoever felt like being adventurous that day.

Frankly, most of us were terrible cooks, me included.
 But eating together, sharing stories and camaraderie, it brought all of us a little bit closer together.  Not to mention, all of us agreed eating off crockery tasted better than eating out of a can.

It also helped us to learn more about one another, and it gave Skylar and me the chance to get closer.
 She had been just a sweet little child when I last saw her, and now she was a spunky teenager with a bun in the oven.

I
had discovered that I liked her a lot, as a person.  Despite being eight months pregnant and looking like she was about to pop, she was a bundle of energy and rarely complained about anything.

It felt like her belly was almost as big as she was, and yet she was up and about from the crack of dawn, doing laundry or organising supplies or poking around in the kitchen.
 If something needed doing, you could count on Skylar to think of it before you did and be halfway through doing it by the time you got there.

This morning, I
’d woken to the sound of joyful squeals, and emerged bleary-eyed from my room to find her chasing a delighted Madeline up and down the corridors with gleeful abandon.  When she paused to catch her breath, she explained that she’d caught the child moping, and a good game of chase seemed like the easiest way to keep her spirits high.

Though I hadn’t quite accepted the thought of being someone’s aunt, I really hoped her baby would be okay.
 From the way she was with Maddy, I knew she’d be a fantastic mum, just like ours was for us.

Although she readily admitted that Ryan saved her and kept her alive all these years, it was quite obvious that she was the one who wore the pants in their relationship.
 He doted on her like an adoring puppy and was perfectly happy to follow her instructions in any circumstance.  More than once, I’d seen her handing out orders and him trundling off about her bidding with a dopey smile on his face, perfectly content with his lot in life.

Given how young they both were, it was kind of adorable.

The doctor was a different story.  I learned that he was kind of a loner by nature and preferred to spend his free time reading quietly in his room.  Although his face was set in a permanent scowl, I’d come to realise it wasn’t because of some deep-seated anger at the world — it was because he was short-sighted.  He had glasses, but the prescription was ten years out of date and the lenses were scratched all to hell.

BOOK: The Survivors (Book 1): Summer
6.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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