by Haga, A. H.
She’d also brought two glasses of watered-down orange juice that stood on a small table beside the tub.
“I would give you wine if we had it–nothing like a hot bath with a glass of wine by your side–but we’ve banned alcohol here in the valley, for our own protection, so the juice is the best I can do.”
When we thanked her, and both assured her that it was fine, she left us to our own devices.
With Shadia’s help, I was able to climb into the tub and sink into the steadily rising water. For a second, it felt too hot, like it would melt my skin off, then it became a numb warmth, and I slipped into it with a sigh.
Shadia crawled in opposite me, sneaking her legs to rest beside my hips. I rested my hand on her knee and leaned my head back against the tiled wall. It was cool compared to the heat of the water that now reached to my belly button.
We sat in silence until the water covered our breasts, then Shadia turned off the spout and sunk a little deeper, resting her head against the edge of the tub. I didn’t open my eyes to look at her; I just made lazy circles on her knee with my fingers.
I must have drifted off again, for I had the heavy woolliness of sleep in my head when I woke to the sound of sobbing. The moment I realized what it was, I sat up.
Shadia had pulled away from me, sitting with her knees up to her chin, arms wrapped around her shins and crying, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake me.
“Sha,” I murmured, and she hiccupped.
“I’m sorry,” she managed between sobs. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Don’t worry about that. What is it?”
“Just … just everything we’ve done. André. Drammen. Losing you. I … we’re finally safe.” She broke into heart-wrenching sobs again, unable to say another word.
I fumbled about in the water for a second, not sure what to do. Water splashed over the edge of the tub and onto the tiled floor as I pushed past Shadia until she rested her back against my naked chest. The moment I wrapped my arms around her, she gripped them so hard it hurt, but I didn’t pull back. Just held her and let her cry. She’d done so much to keep me safe, to get me to this point. Not once had I seen her break. Seen her even consider what she’d done to the zombies that came at us. I guess the bath was just too much.
It took almost an hour before she was all cried out, and I held her all that time. When I thought she would be able to keep it down, I took one of the glasses and handed it to her. It wasn’t cold anymore, and the bathwater was tepid, but we didn’t care. We both emptied them quickly.
Shadia leaned against me. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
I kissed her temple. “Never say sorry for showing your feelings. I’d rather see them than not.” She squeezed my hand. “But I need to know, what do you wanna do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“If they’ll have us, do you want to stay here? It seems like a safe enough place, and there are people here. We wouldn’t be all alone. You wouldn’t be alone in taking care of me.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I know you don’t, but I’d feel better knowing there were other people around to take care of you when I’m sick.”
She didn’t answer for the longest time, and I almost started believing she’d fallen asleep before she sighed. “We have to see what they say first. We can’t stay if they don’t want us.”
I squeezed her closer.
We sat in silence a while longer, but the feeling in the room was much lighter now. I could still feel sorrow and fear in the way Shadia clung to me, but it seemed she’d dealt with what she needed to deal with right now and was ready to move forward, wherever that might be. I hoped they would let us stay. I didn’t want to take Shadia out there ever again.
Epilogue
Shadia stopped at the bottom of the road and puffed out a breath. It hung in front of her face like a cold mist for a second before the wind pulled it away. Snow flew around her, so thick it almost hid the path, but Max showed the way. The Border Collie was only a few months old, born just before SHTF, and when it came time to find it a home, Kit was more than happy to take it in. The little ankle-biter had been the reason for more than one fight between the wives. It wasn’t Kit that had to walk the dog or house train it or anything like that. But seeing how much joy the pup brought her wife made it all worth it for Shadia.
Max came bounding back through the snow, tongue lolling, and his usually black fur spotted with white. He was gangly and full of energy, but Shadia was sure he would sleep well tonight. He loved snow, but it also tired him out like nothing else.
“OK, OK, I’m coming.” She huffed and started walking again. The snow reached over her boots and had slipped past her coveralls. She was wet and cold and couldn’t wait to get inside to the heat.
The cabin rose out of the snow like a witch’s cottage. It was small and new, built just before the snow fell, and just for the three of them. They were Maria’s closest neighbor, but still far enough away that the two houses couldn’t see each other in this flurry. Maria had planted fruit trees in the garden to give them a feeling of privacy, and they’d made room for a kitchen plot for when spring came. For now, it was all dormant and still, swallowed by the snow.
Shadia hurried up the steps and kicked off the snow from her boots before she crossed the porch. When the weather allowed, they planned to have glass put in around it, so it could work as a greenhouse in winter, as well as a heater. Every little trick to survive the changing seasons and climate of Norway.
Max was at the door, scratching, and the moment it was open enough for him to fit through, he slipped inside. Kit’s voice sounded, barely audible over the wind.
Shadia stepped inside and closed the door against the cold. Putting her basket down, she started unfurling her winter clothes. Kit’s low laugh came from the bedroom, and Shadia smiled a worried smile to herself.
The cabin only had three rooms. There was a huge room just inside the door that was a combined kitchen and living room to make it easier to heat. They had a generator that fueled the stove and fridge, and when summer came, they would set up solar panels. The old-style cooking stove stood between the living room and the kitchen, its pipe running past the bathroom to keep it somewhat warm, radiating heat to the entire building. A pile of wood almost as high as the ceiling stood beside it. There were a sofa and a shelf with books in the living room, as well as a knitting basket, but that was about it. They didn’t need much more.
The bathroom had a small tub, a toilet, and a washing stand. When they could, they tried to not use water, but Maria had been adamant that they could share her water line and should get a hot water generator. It would help Kit, she claimed, and it did. The daily hot baths with oils loosened up her muscles better than anything else, but it tired her out getting from the bedroom to the bathroom, so it was a mixed blessing.
Lifting the basket, Shadia walked through the cabin and into the bedroom. There was a double bed there with room for the two of them and Max, but not much more. A small commode with what clothes they had, and Kit’s chair in a corner. It hadn’t been used in a while. The curtains were drawn, and there was no light.
“You can light a candle if you want,” Kit said, her voice low and weak.
“No need,” Shadia said and walked to the bed.
Pushing Max aside, she sat down beside Kit and stroked her cheek. The cheekbone poked at her, hard and prominent.
A week after it became clear they were welcome to stay in Hope Valley–Kit’s name, and it stuck with the others who had escaped from the outside world and ended up here–she got sick. Really sick. Worse than Shadia had ever seen her. There was seizure after seizure, and at one point, Shadia and Maria were afraid she would die. Kit couldn’t eat, could hardly even drink water. Her own heartbeat could be too loud for her, leaving her in frustrated tears. She slept a lot in those days, thankfully, between the seizures and Shadia trying to coach her to eat.
It was then that Maria said they needed t
heir own place to stay. She would be taking in others that arrived, giving them a temporary home until they moved on or got their own place. But Kit couldn’t be moved far, so the leaders agreed to build a cabin for the two women close to Maria, so she could be a safety blanket for Shadia.
As Maria watched over Kit and the men built the cabin and lay the water lines and got the generator set up, Shadia took on the job of teaching the few kids in the valley. Raiding parties brought back schoolbooks and skimming them soon refreshed her memory. She became the local teacher, to the kids’ great dismay.
For almost a month and a half, she survived on honeyed milk and a little water a day. She couldn’t go to the bathroom, so she had to use a bedpan, which Maria emptied. Moving her hips enough to make room for the pan hurt her, and they were running out of medication fast, even if the raiders looked for it wherever they went. But then Max came, and Kit finally smiled again. The light returned to her eyes, and even as she cried from the pain in her body, she could smile as the pup licked her tears away and tried to make her happy.
“Maria?” Kit asked now.
“She had a new idea for a tea she hoped would help you,” Shadia answered.
“Oh.”
“You think you’re up to trying it?” Kit didn’t answer, but her suddenly labored breathing was answer enough. Shadia leaned forward, carefully touching her forehead against Kit’s. “Don’t think about it, you don’t have–”
“Yes,” Kit cut her off. “I wanna try, but tomorrow? The weather change wiped me out.”
“OK, habibi.” They sat for a moment. “You need the bathroom?”
“No,” Kit answered. “I’m fine.”
“OK.”
Standing, Shadia moved out of the room and lit a few candles in the kitchen to give her light. Even with the windows out here unobscured by curtains, the snow was drinking up all the sunlight and giving the idea of nightfall even if the sun had barely risen. She put the jar of the new tea on the shelf with Kit’s other teas. One for the pain, one for better sleep, one to give her a little energy boost. This new one was supposed to make her want to eat. Shadia hoped it worked. Kit was just skin and bones, and her hair had almost completely fallen out. Even just lifting the duvet was a chore for her.
Shadia leaned her head against the window, feeling the cold of it seep into her skin. But even as bad as Kit was now, she was better than just a few months ago, and she’d been through so much. Her body would take time to deal with everything that had happened, and Shadia’s job now was making sure Kit got through it. Making sure she had a chance of enjoying this new life they had found together.
For that was it. They had survived. Outside of Hope Valley, the zombies were as good as gone. People had started making themselves new homes, much like in the Valley, and life went on. But between all of these people, Kit was the only one in a wheelchair that they knew of. She had done the impossible and had the right to take her time getting back on her feet, so to speak. For now, she was alive, and in a few months, or a few years, she could actually live.
“Sha?” Kit’s voice was weak but still carried in the small, quiet cabin.
“Yes?” Shadia asked, pushing away from the window and leaning through the doorway.
She could just make out the small shape of Kit under the duvet in the candlelight, Max lying with his head on her hip, soaking the fabric with melting snow and not caring. Kit’s thin, pale hand was buried in his fur, stark against his blackness.
“Do you think we could try reading a little more today?”
Shadia couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips. “Of course, habibi. In bed?”
“Yeah.”
Without a word, Shadia walked into the living room and found the book she was reading aloud for her wife. Lighting one of the oil lamps they’d been given, she blew out the candles and walked into the bedroom. Kit had covered her eyes with her mask, but she was smiling.
Shadia hung the lamp on its hook on the wall and climbed into her side of the bed. Pushing away Max, Kit carefully and slowly turned around until she lay facing Shadia, resting one hand on her thigh. The hand was shaking minutely, but it was still a touch. Opening the book, Shadia began to read, a smile on her lips.
They had survived, they were still alive, and no matter how much time it might take, they would live together again.
The End
Acknowledgment
I have many a soul to thank for getting Survival Kit to the stage it is today.
The first one is my husband, Sven, for standing by my side through my own sickness, and as I wrote this book. It was an extreme emotional toil writing something this personal, and he was there for me every step of the way.
Some thanks must also be given to the M.E.-community in Norway. They gave me a place to air my grief as well as friends to lean on. They made me feel less alone in an impossible situation and have helped me live with it thus far.
Regarding the actual writing of this book, the first person who needs thanks is my good friend Joakim. He helped me on the science-front of the zombies. His knowledge has been a blessing!
I must also thank my fantastic beta readers: Øystein, Patrik, Niels, Kima, Beate, and Zack. Your feedback was invaluable.
Thank you to Vicky, my editor, for doing such a good job.
And thank you so, so much to Ravven for making this amazing cover!
Finally, thank you, reader, for picking up this book.
About the Author
Anniken Haga published her first novel in Norwegian in 2014. This was an NA thriller set in her hometown. In 2015 and 2016, she published two MG fantasy books, also in Norwegian.
They were all published through Liv Forlag.
Deciding to go Indie, she published her first English work-Artificial Generation-in 2018.
You can connect with me on:
https://twitter.com/AnnikenHaga
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Also by A. H. Haga
Artificial Generation
https://www.amazon.com/Artificial-Generation-Haga-ebook/dp/B079S3CVZP/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=A.+h.+haga&qid=1603369567&sr=8-2
Elena is part of a generation of artificially created children.Believed to be humankind’s last hope, they have only one purpose: to breed.Elena, however, doesn’t want children.
If she goes against the Council, she risks losing everything she ever cared about.
When her world is attacked, threatening to end their very way of life, Elena must fight for her, and her peers’, right to live how they want and make their own choices.
