But between the four of us, though…
I looked amongst them, and saw faces that ranged from determination to fear. It was Michael that made the decision for us, though, in that soft, deep, commanding voice he used when he’d made up his mind about something.
"We can’t just leave him to die."
We all nodded, and I battled a mixture of relief and terror. We were going to fight a pig. A massive, undead, rampaging wild boar. This was madness.
Still, someone needed to organise us now that the decision was made, and they were all looking at me.
"Doctor Cross, I would appreciate if you stayed with the girls." I glanced at him, and saw his relief. "You’re our last line of defence in case the worst happens." He nodded his agreement and moved off, leaving me with Michael and Ryan.
I turned to them and pointed at the gun Ryan held. "That little peashooter won’t do anything more than piss it off. If it gets close to you, use the axe."
He nodded. I turned and handed the shotgun to Michael.
"What about you?" Michael looked concerned as he took the weapon, but I just smiled and pulled out my taser.
"I’m bait," I answered with a giddy kind of confidence that was based more on bravado than real courage. "Remember, these things charge. They’re much stronger and faster than they look, but they can’t turn quickly. Stay light on your feet." Suddenly, I was feeling almost buoyant, charged full of adrenaline – ready to do the impossible.
The survivor saw us and turned, pelting towards us as fast as his legs would carry him. The paddocks were uneven and full of hidden obstacles; I silently prayed he wouldn’t lose his footing. If he fell, the creature would be on him in a heartbeat.
The taser cracked to life in my hand. I strode forward, and felt the two men fall into place on either side of me with their weapons at the ready.
"Be prepared to scatter," I told them softly, calmly. "We should be able to confuse it. It won’t have much of a brain left."
The stranger was shouting and waving at us, so I waved back and gestured for him to keep coming. He was close enough now that I could see the sweat glistening on skin the colour of milky coffee. I wondered how long he'd been running for, because he looked close to collapse.
The pig was hot on his heels, its head down and snorting furiously. Then it saw us, and it squealed a terrible sound. The running figure was forgotten as it turned its attention onto us.
"Wait for it." I kept my voice low and soft, to keep them calm.
The creature stopped and stared at us, making the kind of noises that would echo in my nightmares forever. Low, deep squeals, sounds that no pig should ever make. It stomped its hoof, slowly swinging its head from side to side.
The horrid thing was already half decomposed, with innards hanging out in places and patches of muscle lay bare beneath tattered skin. Its spinal column stuck out, white and naked against rotted flesh. I focused on that, and flexed my fingers on the taser.
Then, suddenly, it charged.
The three of us scattered in a neat three-pronged formation, just as we planned. The men with the guns put distance between themselves and the pig, while I cut it so fine that I could smell the pig’s terrible stink as it barrelled past me. I struck without hesitation, and jabbed my taser at the exposed bone of its spine. Electricity surged along the biological conduits intended for an entirely different kind of current, and the creature screamed.
It was slow to turn towards me, hindered by my attack. As I retreated, Ryan darted in and struck at it with the axe, swinging the weapon overhead with all the strength in his one good hand. He struck in the same place that I had, aiming for the exposed bone, but he missed and the axe bounced off.
The shotgun roared a moment after Ryan retreated, peppering the beast’s side with hot shrapnel. It screamed again, a terrible, blood-curdling sound. It was turning on the spot, almost spinning in place, struggling to decide which of us to charge first.
It chose Michael.
The pig took him by surprise and bowled him over, knocking the breath out of him. It was on him in a second, and he barely had the chance to get the gun up in time to defend himself. It bit down on the shaft of the gun, which did little damage to the weapon itself but it prevented him from firing and forced him to twist himself awkwardly to keep out from beneath trampling hooves.
Ryan and I leapt forward and went on the offensive. I struck it behind the ear with my taser, while Ryan hacked away at its spine. Finally, one of his blows slid between the vertebrae and severed its spinal cord.
The pig’s hind-quarters collapsed, distracting it for the few seconds that Michael needed to yank his gun around into position to fire.
The shell exploded in the pig’s mouth, and penetrated the soft membrane at the back of its throat. Shrapnel exploded within it, and sent hot shards scattering about, dicing what was left of its brain.
The pig died unceremoniously, and this time its death was permanent.
It took all our combined strength to drag Michael out from beneath the corpse before it collapsed, but we got him free just in time. I was relieved to find he was uninjured aside from some bruises and the ringing in his ears from the shotgun blast so close. He shook his head to clear it as we hauled him to his feet, then we looked down at the pig with a mixture of amusement and confusion.
Then Michael looked up and grinned at us both.
"Bacon, anyone?"
***
It felt amazing to laugh together, all of us feeling the rush of victory. We made our way back to our convoy together, slapping each other on the back and administering high fives all around.
When we arrived, we found the stranger leaning against one of our vans, talking to Skylar and Dr Cross. He looked exhausted and was out of breath, but as we drew closer we could hear his words.
"—sickness. They sent a couple of us out looking for a treatment. Then the fucking pig—"
"What are the symptoms?" Dr Cross interrupted him, adjusting his glasses absently. His face was already set in the scowl he wore when he was thinking about something intensely.
"Diarrhoea mostly, you know, real nasty diarrhoea. Vomiting. Some of them have a fever." The kid glanced back over his shoulder and his expression brightened when he saw us closing in. "Hey! Oh man, I owe you fullas my life. I don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t been here."
"Glad to help, mate." Michael took the lead and approached the stranger with an extended hand. The youth grabbed it and shook it enthusiastically, reaching out with the other to clap him on the shoulder.
"I can’t believe that fucking pig, man. I heard about them on the news but never seen one before. It bowled me right off my bike. Hell, you folks are heroes!"
"Hell’s the word for it; that was one scary bundle of demon-pork," Michael agreed, then he glanced back at me and gave me one of those smiles that made my heart race. "Luckily for all of us, we have an expert along."
I felt my cheeks burn, but I hung back and sidestepped behind Ryan. My inner paranoia warned me away from the stranger-danger, but the others seemed relaxed and the stranger looked friendly, so I wasn’t in too much of a panic.
"An expert? Damn. You’re real lucky." The stranger shook his head and ran a hand back through his tight black curls. "Bro, I’m still freaked out."
"You and me both," Ryan commented dryly, then shot a curious look at me when he realised that I was hiding behind him. "Let’s not do that again anytime soon."
"Agreed." The stranger nodded, then extended his hand to Ryan as well. "Hey, I’m Hemi."
"Ryan." The redheaded youth awkwardly shook the offered hand with his one good one, and then he proceeded to introduce the rest of us.
"So what are you doing out here?" Michael asked curiously, and shot a glance at the doctor. "You were saying something about a sickness?"
"He was telling me that his whanau live near here, and that a lot of them have been getting sick recently," the doctor piped up with the information he knew, and then He
mi nodded exuberantly.
"Yeah, man. Real nasty sick in the stomach. Puking and crapping all over the place."
Now there was a pleasant thought.
"Did you get sick, young man?" The doctor fixed Hemi with an intense, wary look.
"Nah, I’m good. That’s why I volunteered to go looking for medicine."
"I’m rather relieved to hear that." I peered at the youth with natural suspicion, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just laughed and nodded.
"Me too, man. Me too."
"So, you guys have a community?" Skylar suddenly joined the conversation, her curiosity getting the better of her at last.
"Yeah, there’s about a dozen of us. We built us a pa southwest of here." He used the Maori word for a fortified town, but it was a word that most of us were familiar with from the time before the plague. Then he looked around at us and gave us a lopsided smile. "We can trade, if you have medicine. We’ve got cows and sheep, so we can trade beef, milk or lamb. Or wool, if any of you guys are knitters. Maybe other things, depends what you want."
"Weapons?" Yes, that was me. Surprise, surprise. I felt exposed, like we needed more to protect ourselves.
"Guns?" He shook his head. "Nah, sorry. We only have one old rifle and we use it for hunting. A few knives, but nothing good for fighting with."
Damn. Couldn’t blame a girl for trying.
"It’s okay." Michael shrugged. "If we can help you, we will. You can return the favour later. It’s more important to get your people feeling better."
Hemi’s eyebrows shot up, and he gave Michael a long, sideways look. So did I for that matter. We had the opportunity for trade, and he was willing to just give away our advantage?
As though reading my mind, Michael looked back at me and gave me one of his sweet smiles. I melted a little bit, and smiled back; his smiles were so addictive.
"That’s generous man, real generous." Hemi bobbed his head thoughtfully as he mulled it over, then he flashed another one of his lopsided grins. "Not a lot of trust left in this world, but I ain’t gonna say no when the whanau need help, you know. Appreciate it, guy. We owe you one."
Michael nodded, and gestured for the doctor to do his thing.
While Dr Cross spoke to the young man in great detail about all kinds of colours and consistencies I didn’t want to think about, Michael drew me aside. Together, we walked to the front of the convoy, and put the Hilux between ourselves and the others.
Once we were alone, he took my hand in his and drew me in close to him. The kiss was quick and feather-light, for fear of sneaking Skylars hunting us down.
"You were amazing out there." His voice was a breathless murmur as he wrapped his arm around my waist to draw me up against his lean frame.
"Me?" I was bewildered by the compliment. "You were the one that killed it."
"No, we killed it, with teamwork. " He slipped his other arm around my shoulders, and his fingers softly caressed the back of my neck. "But you... you were magnificent. So confident and graceful. I didn’t know you had it in you."
"Oh."
His lips were on the side of my neck now, planting tender kisses across my skin. A little nuzzle, and then I felt the softest nibble on my earlobe – it sent a lightning bolt right through me. My back came to rest against the truck’s door, pinned by his strong hands.
"Ah, M-michael…" I tried to protest, but my heart wasn’t in it. His breath was hot and heavy across my skin, and I could feel the swell of his rising arousal despite the body armour he wore. "W-what about—"
"Shh…" he murmured and silenced me with a kiss. "They can’t see us back here. What they don’t know—"
"What we don’t know, huh?"
Uh-oh.
Skylar stood a few meters away, her arms folded across her chest and a look of smug satisfaction on her face.
"I knew it!" She jabbed an accusatory finger at us, then turned on a heel and skipped off.
Michael groaned, and reluctantly released me. "Can’t we get a moment’s privacy around here? God."
"Of course not." I sighed and straightened my clothing. "This is what happens when six people live in close proximity for too long. No one has any privacy."
"Well, I sure hope we can find our own space in this new town. What I wouldn’t give to have you all to myself for a while." He paused and gave me a long, thoughtful look that made me tingle all over.
"Oh, really?" I lifted my brows, half-teasing and half-curious. "And what would you do with me if you had me?"
"Well." His voice dropped to a low, throaty purr. "I would have to spend some time exploring you. Catalogue your most sensitive spots." He reached a hand up and stroked a curl of hair from my cheek. "Or at least, the ones you’ll let me touch."
"Hmm," I murmured and turned my head to nuzzle at his palm. "We should definitely try and find out own space, then."
He shot me a wicked grin, and then took my hand to lead me back towards the others.
***
It took some time for the doctor to work out the medication required, and the prescriptions for the number of sick people Hemi described. As he worked, we learned more about the group that Hemi came from.
He told us that his whanau consisted of about a dozen Maori survivors from across the region, who had banded together gradually over the course of the last ten years with a communal need to survive and keep their old traditions alive. They had built their village on the edge of one of the local lakes a few years ago, and had lived there in relative seclusion ever since.
After speaking with Hemi for a while, the doctor reached the conclusion that human occupation had inevitably tainted their water source.
"Make sure you boil any water that you’re going to drink or are going to use to cook or clean something that you’re going to eat." Dr Cross handed out information and medication with his usual efficiency. "Be sure to get the sick people to drink as much clean water as you can; they’ll be quite dehydrated by now."
Hemi nodded happily, and examined the little box full of prescription bottles. "And everyone who’s sick gets one of these, three times per day with a big glass of water. Got it. Thanks, doc." On a sudden impulse, the youth snatched up the doctor’s hand and shook it vigorously.
"You’re quite welcome, young man." The doctor looked flustered but pleased by Hemi’s gratitude. As grumpy as he appeared to be, he did always seem to get a thrill from helping a patient. Medicine really was his calling in life.
"Hey, where are you folks heading to?" Hemi looked back and forth between us, his dark eyes sparkling with youthful exuberance. "The ariki will want to come visit you. Homai o homai, eh? A gift for a gift."
Michael hesitated for a moment, and then made the decision for the rest of us.
"Ohaupo. We’re planning to settle there." He sounded a little unsure of himself, but Hemi didn’t seem to mind.
"Oh, eh? Sweet as, I’ll let her know." He grinned, and there was nothing but genuine friendliness on his young face. "We’ll come visit you, bro; bring you some presents."
Something about the youth put me at ease. In spite of my learned paranoia, I found myself liking him. He was no older than my sister, and there was a real openness to his character that made him instantly likeable.
A thought came to me suddenly as I watched him, and then I reached out to touch Michael’s arm. He turned and looked at me, surprised, since I’d mostly stayed quiet throughout the conversation.
"Tell him about the mutants."
Michael immediately understood what I meant. Even if this tribe did turn out to be hostile in the end, it would be cruel not to warn them about a potential threat that might spread into the local area.
Michael summed up our encounters with the mutated infected in as few words as possible, glossing over the painful details of the deaths of his friends. Despite his brevity, he got the point across quite efficiently. By the time he finished warning the youth of the impending danger in Hamilton, the kid’s smile was gone.
"No won
der you folks were after weapons." He looked back and forth between us, wide-eyed. "Had me worried for a second, but now I get it. Man, that’s scary. I better get home fast, tell the boss. She’ll decide what we do."
"Be careful." Michael nodded his agreement and stepped back. "We haven’t seen anything this far south aside from the pig, but there’s no way to be sure."
"Yeah. Stay safe, bro." The kid nodded respectfully to Michael, and then to the rest of us in turn. He looked up at the sun to get his bearings, and then with a wave he was off at a long, loping jog towards the south-west. We watched him go, then turned and looked at one another.
"We should probably get moving before it gets too hot." I ran my hand over my brow deliberately. The others nodded their agreement.
Suddenly, Michael chuckled. I looked at him quizzically, not quite sure what the joke was at first. He knitted his brows and rolled his eyes heavenwards.
"We never did finish moving that tree."
***
It didn’t take us long to finish removing the deadfall, though. In no time at all, we were back on the road, picking our way slowly towards the township of Ohaupo. It was just after midday and the sun was high overhead, burning down on us with an exhausting intensity.
"Ugh." I groaned and plucked my singlet away from my sweaty tummy. Even with the windows rolled down, the humidity was getting unbearable. "I never thought I’d be fantasising about a cold shower."
"Mmngh," Michael agreed unintelligibly, half way through taking a long drink from his water bottle. He swallowed and sighed heavily, then offered the rest of the bottle to me.
I took it without thinking and drank deeply, even though it was warm and tasted a little brackish. After the last few drops rolled down my throat, I sighed as well and plunked my elbow on the edge of the window.
Suddenly, a thought struck me, and it was so silly that it made me giggle.
Michael glanced at me, bemused. "What are you chortling at?"
"Just a thought." I pulled a face and shook the empty drink bottle at him. "Is sharing your water with another survivor the post-apocalyptic equivalent of sharing your juice box with the cute girl you like in kindergarten?"
The Survivors (Book 1): Summer Page 23
