"Ms McDermott – Sandy – I need to ask you for a favour." He sounded strangely nervous. "It’s regarding your sister."
Suddenly, I felt a cold chill run through me. "Skylar? Is she alright? Is the baby—"
"She’s fine at the moment, but I am concerned for her," he said, cutting me off. "She is at a very delicate stage of her pregnancy, when she should be resting and taking it easy, but as you know she resists all attempts to convince her to rest. I have tried to speak to her about it, but she brushes it off and ignores me."
"You want me to talk to her?" I cringed at the very thought. "I can try, but I don’t know what good it’ll do. We’ve only known one another as adults for two weeks."
"But you are sisters, and blood runs thicker than water. She loves you. I hope that she will listen to you, or else…"
"…She could lose the baby?" I whispered, horrified by the thought.
The doctor shrugged. "That is one possibility; more likely she will injure herself. But, we are in a dangerous and unsanitary environment, and she neglects to acknowledge that she is particularly vulnerable right now. If she were to cut herself and get an infection, like you did, it could complicate the pregnancy. Given our limited access to medical technology, complications of any kind drastically increase the chance that she could lose the baby – or her own life."
I grimaced, feeling a surge of mixed emotions. Part of me was worried, while part of me filled with cold anger. What was it with the people in my life deliberately putting themselves at risk?
"I’ll talk to her right now."
The doctor nodded, but his concern did not seem to lessen. I felt like time was of the essence, so I let myself out of his room and hurried off, looking for any sign of my sister.
I spotted her downstairs doing exactly what she probably shouldn’t be: Lugging a heavy box from one room to another. Ryan was trailing along behind her, protesting, but she was too stubborn to let him take it. The anger welled up to overwhelm my caution, so I raced down to intercept them.
I took the stairs two at a time, and then sprang around the corner to take them both by surprise. Without giving her a moment’s notice, I snatched the heavy box from Skylar’s grip and shoved it into Ryan’s arms instead.
"Hey!" Skylar exclaimed in alarm, but I wasn’t having any of it. I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her off towards the nearest room, and didn’t give her time to protest or pull away.
She sure tried, though, but I wouldn’t let her. I dragged her into one of the storage rooms and slammed the door behind us, then grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She protested at the rough treatment and tried to shove me off. Despite all her determination, I proved to be physically stronger than her and managed to keep her restrained.
"You need to stop it." My voice hard and threatening. It was the kind of tone that I’d never used on my baby sister in my entire life. I could see her getting angry but I refused to let her go. "You are almost nine months pregnant, Skylar McDermott. You need to slow the fuck down and start taking care of yourself. "
"Oh, so the doctor’s been whining at you too, has he?" She snapped with bitter sarcasm, and again tried to shove me away, but she just couldn’t shake me.
"Stop being so fucking stupid, Skye. You are going to kill that baby." I was practically snarling now, so angry that it took all of my willpower to fight down the urge to slap her. My choice of words did a better job of it than my fist ever could have, though, and her eyes widened in shock. When I suddenly released my grip on her shoulders, she was so stunned that she stayed exactly where I put her.
I jabbed a finger at her pointedly. "I know that you think you’re invulnerable, but you’re not. You’re human, and you’re subject to human weaknesses. So is that baby," I redirected my finger at her midsection, "and she has more than enough to worry about without her own mother trying to murder her with stubbornness. Frankly, I would very much like the chance to meet my niece or nephew one day, so knock it off right now or I will lock you in your room until you go into labour. Got it?"
She stared at me with huge eyes, shocked beyond words by my harshness. I wasn’t generally the most threatening person. Frankly, I was a skinny little doll-faced slip of nothing – but I was Skye’s big sister and she’d never seen me angry before. Judging by the look on her face, it scared the hell out of her.
Finally, she gathered her wits enough to nod quickly. I narrowed my eyes at her, and she seemed to understand instinctively that meant I would not brook any more of her headstrong behaviour if it put her baby at risk. She couldn’t hold my gaze; her eyes dropped, and a hand rose protectively to her tummy. I suddenly realised there were tears gathering in her eyes, and I felt a mixture of victory for making her see sense, and guilt for making my little sister cry.
"I don’t want my baby to die," she whispered.
"I know, Skye. I know." I softened my tone to comfort her. "That’s why you have to slow down, for your baby’s sake. Your body is more fragile than you know."
My anger had done its job, and now that it was no longer required it began to drain away. I reached for her and drew her into a hug made awkward by the very baby we were trying to protect, sandwiched in between us. She hugged me back, and I felt tears soaking into my shoulder.
"I’m just so scared." Her voice was watery and muffled against my shoulder. "I don’t want my baby to get the infection. I feel like I can’t do enough to keep her safe."
"I know." I hugged her close and stroked her hair, as if she were a little girl all over again. As much as I knew that she needed the shock to protect her growing baby, I hated to cause her distress. I was comforting myself with the gesture just as much as her, and trying to reassure myself that it was in the name of the greater good.
After all, what were sisters for, if not giving you a kick in the pants when you were being an idiot, and borrowing your favourite sweater with no intention of ever returning it?
Chapter Twenty-Two
The fire crackled, roaring up into the night sky, while we stood around with hoses at the ready in case the flames decided to spread.
I watched with mixed feelings as the blaze consumed the ambiguously named ‘Function’ building, along with the dozens of bodies housed within. We decided that this was best way to keep the area safe for Skye’s incoming baby, and to keep the risk of infection to a minimum. The makeshift graveyard would become a crematorium.
There were four of us there: Michael, Ryan, the doctor and me – Skylar had decided to stay at home with Madeline. Since our talk almost a week ago, Skye had finally accepted her condition and started to spend most of her time indoors cooking or focusing on her studies, or in the courtyard tending to our little garden.
Tonight, she had actually volunteered to stay home, complaining of a persistent headache. I was relieved by her decision; the nearer she got to full term, the more I worried about her.
Goodbye, Benny, I thought to myself as I watched the flames rage. I really hoped that there was a Heaven, and that his sweet Margie was waiting for him there.
That thought made me sad. I hoped there was something more, anything more, than just this world of suffering that we knew. Somehow, Michael heard my sigh over the crackle of flames and he reached out to put his arm around me. I’d told him everything over the course of the last week or so, even about old Benny and his wife.
Well, no. Not quite everything. There were still some things that I held back, even from him. Things that had happened to me over the years that I didn’t want to think about, let alone talk about. I couldn’t even bear to say the word out loud. It was such a terrible, terrible word.
The worst four letters of the English language.
I leaned against his side, as the fire we had set so carefully consumed the function hall, and the café and bar next door. The buildings were separated from the other ones nearby by some distance, but we still practiced great caution in our act of arson. We had
waited until the heat-wave had passed and rain had come this morning. The ground was dry again by the time we started the blaze, but the morning’s rain reduced the brittleness of the plants and the buildings nearby and lessened the chance that our fire would spread.
Regardless, we'd hosed down the nearest buildings before we planted accelerant in the bar and café. Then, we waited until we saw more clouds on the horizon, promising another shower on the way. They came just before sundown, when the air was still and humid. We judged the time just right for our bonfire to begin.
The fire had caught quickly and burned with a furious intensity that worried us at first. None of us were professional arsonists, but we all remembered the warning signs about the summer fire danger from our younger days.
The flames had raged unabated for hours, and now there was hardly anything left – just the most basic framework and the roof. Then suddenly the roof caved in with a terrible noise and an explosion of sparks, reducing the buildings to flaming rubble. A few smouldering ashes drifted towards nearby buildings, but we were tense and alert, and doused them quickly before they could land.
Something cold and wet struck me on the top of the head as we retreated back to a safe distance again. I looked up, and another raindrop splattered me right between the eyes. The next thing I knew, it was coming down in a torrent and we were caught in the deluge. After the intense heat of the past week, none of us really seemed to mind.
The flames burned so hot that it took another hour before they died down completely. When they did, they left behind only ashes and a few shards of human bone where there had once been a building. A building where so many people had taken their own lives.
I let sadness wash over me in the darkness as the flames retreated. The rain turned everything to a hot, muddy soup, which would probably bake to a crust in the sun when the storm passed. We would return another day and bury the ashes and bits of bone deep within the earth, but for now it was time for my bedraggled group of survivors to go home.
We gathered up our things, and trudged off to wash away the stench of smoke, and retire to our beds.
***
It was still raining the next morning when the sun slipped up over the horizon. I came awake slowly to the sound of rain on the roof, my face buried in the back of Michael’s neck. My breath ruffled his short hair as I heaved a sigh, and I felt him stir.
"G’morning," I greeted him, and he murmured a sleepy reply. Lost in a pleasant doze, we snuggled together listening to the sound of the rain on the roof for a good, long while, before a different, alien sound finally brought us both awake. It was the sound of a small engine moving down the road outside our building.
I opened my eyes reluctantly and rose, to pull on a t-shirt and underwear. Content with being halfway-decent, I wandered out into the living room to investigate the unfamiliar noise. Hemi waved up at me when he spotted me peeking through the curtains, and I waved back. He was soaked to the bone from the rain, but his smile was broad as he sat back on the farm bike to greet me.
"Kia ora!" He called when I opened the window and leaned out. "We’ve come to visit, brought you some kai. Where are your friends?"
"Probably still sleeping," I called back, amused. "It’s the crack of dawn, and we didn’t realise you were coming. Give us a minute and we’ll be downstairs."
"Sweet as." He gave me his funny, lopsided grin, and settled down on his bike to wait.
I pulled back from the window and returned to our bedroom, where Michael was stretching languidly in bed. It took all of my willpower not to get distracted admiring the tan he’d acquired over the last week.
"Your friend Hemi is here to visit. Put some pants on, you nudist."
He grinned at my teasing and rolled out of bed to do just that. A few minutes later, when both of us were properly dressed, we trundled downstairs to greet our visitors.
Although I was always concerned about our security, we left most of our weapons behind. I kept my taser in my pocket just in case, but no guns. I had to admit that I felt a little naked confronting another survivor relatively unarmed, but Michael was unconcerned.
By the time we walked out the front door, Hemi was off his bike and waiting for us. A woman had joined him, and the two stood comfortably in the rain exchanging light banter in their native tongue. When we emerged, Hemi grinned brightly and approached us both with a hand extended.
"G’day, mate – sorry to wake you."
"Kia ora, mate. Haere mai." Michael greeted the young man like they’d been friends all their lives, with a warm handshake and a broad smile. I hung back and watched them, amused and secretly impressed by Michael’s social graces. Not only did he speak sign language, but he spoke decent Maori as well. I knew the basics from back in school, but I could never quite tell the contexts apart. He didn’t seem to have any problem with it at all.
Suddenly, I realised the woman was watching me, and I tensed up instinctively as I was assessed. My attention turned to her as well. I felt oddly uncomfortable, uncertain whether I was being considered as a potential friend, enemy or rival.
The strange woman was unabashedly beautiful, with creamy brown skin and long dark hair that fell in wild waves down her back. Her lips were full and sensual, the lower one stained by a moko, a Maori tribal tattoo that curled down across her chin. Although she looked older than I am, her skin was smooth and unflawed by age, and there was no trace of grey in her hair.
But it was her eyes that struck me most. Although dark and framed by long lashes, they spoke a whole other language to the rest of her body. There was a confidence in them, a quiet strength and a hypnotic personal magnetism; she held my gaze unflinchingly, and I was caught by her charisma.
I wasn’t afraid to admit that I felt a little bit intimidated. Those beautiful eyes held such deep intelligence that I felt small by comparison. I found myself trapped by her charm, hypnotised, afraid to make eye-contact but equally afraid to look away.
In the end, it was she that broke the staring contest, not I. Hemi spoke her name to introduce her to Michael and so she looked away, leaving me feeling shy and uncertain as I lurked in the background.
"This is my mum, the boss-lady." Hemi had his usual impish grin on, and the strange woman smiled in return. The expression softened her beauty, and I felt my tension ease a little.
"Kia ora." She accepted Michael’s outstretched hand with grace. "My name is Anahera. I lead what little is left of the Waikato iwi." Then she looked straight at me, and gave me a smile that made my heart race. "And what is your name, my dear? You are being very quiet."
I felt a surge of panic as all eyes turned towards me.
"Sandy. Sandy McDermott." I managed to get out my name before anxiety overwhelmed me, and I looked to Michael for rescue. He understood immediately that my self-confidence was low and stepped in on my behalf.
"She’s a bit cautious around strangers." He glanced at me to make sure it was okay to tell them; I nodded, to give him my permission. "She’s had a few bad experiences with other survivors."
Anahera nodded her understanding, and then she approached me with a grace that was almost feline. When she was close enough, she went to take my hand and I allowed her to gently draw me in, to press the tip of her nose to mine. Having a stranger so close to me made me tense up, but I knew it was only a hongi – a greeting – and that she meant me no harm.
"It is good to meet you, Sandy McDermott," she said softly as we parted. "Hemi says I have you to thank for the fact that I still have a son."
My cheeks started to burn, but I managed an unsteady smile. "It was a group effort. Michael made the killing blow."
"She’s also modest," he commented dryly as he wandered over to put a protective arm around me. "We’re just glad we could help."
"And you did, more than you know. Between your doctor’s medicine and his expertise, you may have saved my entire whanau as well. I feel that we owe you a debt that can never be repaid." Anahera bowed her head in respect, and said a fe
w words in her native tongue that I didn’t understand.
Michael seemed to, though. He smiled and bowed his head in return. "You honour us with your presence, ariki."
"Bah." She flapped a hand. "That title does not fit me. I am no chieftain, just the only one of us left with any ability to organise these slackers into some kind of community. Before this happened, I was just a teacher."
A teacher, huh? I thought to myself. With cleavage like that, it’s a wonder that her students got anything done...
Oh crap. Was I jealous?
I suddenly felt ashamed of myself, and lowered my gaze thoughtfully while Michael led our guests to the entrance of our motel and invited them inside out of the rain.
"My brothers will be here shortly with your gifts," Anahera mentioned while we were leading her inside. Just inside the entrance, she stopped to admire the building. "Ah. I see you have built a pa of your own here. Well done."
She nodded her approval, and stepped out into the rain to examine our little vegetable garden. The moisture didn’t seem to bother her, and I found myself distracted, admiring her curvaceous figure with some confusion. She was so beautiful, I found watching her fascinating.
Then came a flash of panic when I realised that Michael would be just as attracted to her natural magnetism as I was. I looked up at him, and found him… looking right back at me. He smiled and touched my chin, lifting it up just a little for the softest of kisses, while Hemi was distracted following his mother.
I couldn’t believe it. Someone so beautiful right in front of him, and he only had eyes for me? Even I wanted to stare at her all day, and I wasn’t even inclined that way. Either I was the luckiest woman alive, or my new lover was crazy.
You know what? I think I’m okay with that, I decided after a moment of careful consideration.
"Are these strawberry seedlings I see here?" Anahera called to us, attracting our attention to where she was pointing. When we nodded, she made a sound of delight and wandered back over towards us. "You have many plants we don’t have. Would you be willing to trade seeds some time?"
The Survivors (Book 1): Summer Page 26
