by V. L. Dreyer
"What? Really?" I went over to the big metal door and opened it. The smell of decomposing meat hit me immediately and sent me reeling back, gagging, but the air was still cold. Heavy with the stench of rot, but cold.
Michael reached past me and pushed the door closed, blocking out the worst of the stink. "Let's just leave that closed for now, shall we?"
"Good plan," I replied, struggling to get my gag reflex back under control. I took a couple of deep breaths, then looked at Elly and Michael. "First step is that we need to clean. Let's get as many people in here to help as possible. Many hands make light work. Honey, could you please go round up everyone you can find? We should make this top priority before it gets dark. Oh, and while you're at it, see if you can get the electricians to hook up our generator in here. We're going to need it sooner rather than later."
"I'm on it," Michael replied. He saluted me and hurried out, leaving Elly and me to work out how to handle the mess.
"Okay, you and I are going to get into the cupboards and inventory the cleaning supplies," I said. "You start here, and I'll go check out that room up the back. Sound good?"
"Sure," she agreed readily. While she set to work, I headed across the room to the far side and opened a small door. The room beyond was a storage room, lined with an array of enormous, restaurant-grade tin cans, sacks of flour and rice, and other assorted food items, most of which were way too far gone to be of any use to us. Off to one side, a second door opened into a cleaning closet.
I tried the light switch and found that it was weak and flickering, so I opted to use my torch instead; there was power in the building, but not enough for us to rely on until we had a chance to extend Simon's solar panel array. I sorted through the various bottles and jars of cleaning products, and grabbed the ones that would be most useful to us.
Just as I was bringing out the last load, the door opened and Michael led in a small army of volunteers. I exchanged a glance with Elly, then we started distributing cleaning rags and jobs to everyone.
***
The sun set while we were working, but Jim, Zain, and Gavin appeared right on time with the generator. They managed to hook up lights for us to see what we were doing, and enough electricity to power the cooking facilities as well. As soon as the big, industrial stove had been cleaned, we started it up and got dinner going. With a hundred and thirty-six mouths to feed, we needed every second we could get.
Sure enough, the rest of our settlers drifted in looking for food soon enough. One by one we set them working, cleaning the dining room, scrubbing dishes, or whatever else needed doing. Skylar appeared out of nowhere yet again, her voice effortlessly commanding. Soon we had food ready to be served, and more than a hundred hungry mouths lined up waiting their turn to be fed.
By the time my turn came to be relieved of duty and fed, I was exhausted. I took my bowl of delicious mystery slop out into the dining room and plopped down on a couch beside Michael. Neither of us said anything while we ate. We were too busy shovelling food to communicate with anything more than inarticulate caveman grunts.
When we finished, we went our separate ways. He went off to fetch our belongings from the convoy, make sure that the trucks were safely stowed away, and assign the night watch, while I returned to the kitchen to help with the washing up. There were enough people there that we finished in record time, even without the aid of the automatic dish-sterilizer that sat in the corner of the room. I made a note in my book to get that working again as soon as possible, then mucked in beside the others.
Afterwards, I headed back up to level three and found my way into the ladies room to relieve myself and indulge in a quick cold shower by the light of my torch. A few minutes later, I switched off the shower, dried myself, then wrapped myself in my towel and opened the stall door. My new apartment was just across the way, so I planned to grab my stuff and scamper home to get ready for bed.
It didn’t work out quite how I planned it, though. When I stepped out of the stall, I found myself face to face with a group of near-strangers, both male and female, standing in a semi-circle around my shower stall. They didn't say a word, just stared at me, their faces ominously cast in shadow.
"Uh… hello?" I said, taking a step back into the stall. Suddenly, I was afraid for my safety. I was all alone and I didn't like the expressions on their faces. There was someone standing between me and my belongings; the only way to get to my taser would be to somehow get past him.
"We've been waiting for you," one of the men said, stepping forward into my torchlight. I recognised him as a member of the reclusive commune which had come down from the hills, but that didn't really help my confidence. Simon's words had implied that they were fanatics, after all. Nothing good ever came from fanatics.
"Yeah, so Simon said," I replied, trying to keep my voice calm and even. I inched back a little farther and shot a quick glance around, but there was no way for me to get out of the room without passing within arm's length of at least one of them. "So, uh, you guys know this is the ladies room, right? You're not really meant to be in here."
"It was the best way to get you alone," a woman said. I didn't recognise her voice, but I understood the threat in her tone. Suddenly, I caught sight of a glint of steel in her hand. I couldn't tell whether it was a knife or something else, but I leapt back just in time to avoid being struck across the face by whatever it was. It turned out to be a metal crucifix, and pain exploded across my collarbone when its sharp edge bit into my skin. I slammed the door of the shower stall closed and threw the bolt into place; a second later, someone struck the outside of the stall with enough force to make the whole structure shake.
"Blasphemer!" the woman screamed. There was another heavy thud, and I heard the horrible sound of wood cracking and metal shrieking. I threw my weight against the door to keep it closed, but there were a half-dozen of them and only one of me.
"Michael!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, for want of a better option. "Michael! Skye! Someone help me!"
"Silence your tongue, blasphemer!" the woman screamed back at me, and I heard the sound of flesh striking the other side of the door. "New Exodus, indeed? You are not Moses, and you should be punished for your sin of presumption!"
"Wait!" I cried, struggling to keep the shattered door closed. "I wasn't— I didn't choose that name, that's just what Simon started calling us. My only intention was to help people, I swear! All people, regardless of faith, race, or gender. I only want to help our people find a home!"
"Lies! All lies!" the man accused. "We weren't certain of what you were doing until you arrived, but then we heard your people whispering about the prophet in their midst. We know what you're telling them! We know that you are spreading false belief to control them, and we will not let you continue!"
Before I could defend my innocence, there was another blow to the door and it gave in with an almighty crash. I slipped on the wet tiles and fell hard, striking my head on the way down. Stars danced around the edges of my vision and a wave of nausea rose inside me. Before I quite knew what was happening, I felt myself being grabbed by the shoulders and dragged back to my feet, but I couldn't coordinate myself enough to fight back. I was frogmarched towards the door, but then the man holding me stopped suddenly.
"Move, child!" he shouted. "This is none of your concern!"
"Actually, it is," a tiny voice replied, delicate, feminine, and yet supremely in control. I recognised it immediately: Madeline.
"This woman is a false prophet and will be punished as such," one of the women growled. She shoved me so roughly that the man holding me lost his grip, and I slid back to the ground again. When I managed to lift my head, I found Maddy standing over me.
"Miss Sandy isn't the prophet," Maddy told them calmly, her voice carrying a note of derision. "I am. And even if she had tried to claim that title – which she hasn't – violence is not the answer. Now, stop acting like fools and go back to your rooms."
The man took a menacing step towards her
, but Maddy didn't even flinch. She looked him straight in the eye, her expression deathly calm. "Your name is Daniel Ferguson. That's your daughter, Mary. You lost your wife, Nicole, to the plague, along with your two little boys. Your youngest son's name was Andrew, and his favourite colour was green. He died holding his favourite toy, a green stuffed dinosaur named Poppet."
I glanced up just in time to see the man turn pale and take a step back. "How do you know that?"
"Because they told me," she hissed, in a voice that sent a shiver all the way down my spine. "They're waiting for you. Now, they're ashamed to see how far you've fallen. Is that what you want, Mister Ferguson?"
"Nicole?" he whispered, his expression changing to one of horror. "They should be in Heaven, waiting for me there. Not here on Earth."
Madeline tilted her head to one side and paused, listening to something that only she could hear. "Not yet. They're still waiting. They'll wait as long as they have to. Time passes differently where they are." Maddy looked at me and smiled. "It's okay, Miss Sandy. They're not going to hurt you anymore. Are you, Mister Ferguson?"
The big man looked down at me and slowly shook his head. He turned and walked towards the door, his movements slow and jerky as though walking in a dream. The others glanced at one another, then hurried out after him, leaving me alone with Maddy.
She looked at me and smiled. "Don't worry, he'll be here in a second."
"Who?" I asked, dazed and a little confused. Maddy just smiled.
A second later, I heard Michael's voice. "Sandy? Where are you?"
"She's in here," Maddy called before I could answer. "She's a bit dizzy, please come and help her up."
"Dizzy?" Michael stuck his head into the room, and then I saw his eyes widen. "Honey! What happened?"
"I had an encounter with a few people who…" I trailed off and shook my head. "I'm cold and I don't feel good. I just want to go home. Can we go home, please?"
"Of course," he said, his expression softening. He hurried over and scooped me up, as easily as if I were a child. My towel was almost gone, but I managed to pull it around me enough to keep from flashing everyone as he carried me back to our suite. Maddy picked up my belongings from the bench beside the shower stalls and followed after us.
A few people stared as we passed, but Michael didn't stop until we were safely home. He'd apparently managed to drag a thin mattress up to our rooms while I had been in the shower, and now he gently lay me down on the rumpled sheets. He left for a moment and I heard him talking to Maddy, then the door to our suite closed and locked.
A few seconds later, Michael came back and sat down beside me. Without a word, he gathered me in his arms and hugged me close to him, stroking my hair with gentle hands. I closed my eyes and leaned against him, letting his touch comfort me and drive away the feeling of disquiet. The bruises would heal and they hadn't done any real harm, but now I had something new to worry about – and it was something I'd never considered, and didn't know how to handle.
Chapter Eleven
I slept fitfully that night. Every time I started to drift off, something would jerk me awake and leave me tense and nervous. Michael was there to comfort me every time. Whenever he felt me wake up, he stroked my hair and spoke softly to me in the dark until I started to relax again. Eventually, sometime in the middle of the night, I finally fell into a deeper sleep.
The next time I opened my eyes, it was sunrise. There were no curtains in our room yet, just some pathetic blinds that were so dusty we were afraid to touch them. The room was cold as a result, but not cold enough to discourage me from getting up. There was so much that needed to be done, and working would give me a chance to think over the practical ramifications of what had happened the night before. I shuffled out from beneath our blankets and slowly sat up, hyper-alert for any symptoms that would indicate I'd sustained another concussion.
Luckily, this time there were no signs of one. I could feel a bruise through my hair, but my head was steady and my eyes were no more sensitive to daylight than on any other day. Content that I was in my usual rude health, I stood up and pulled on my clothing.
Michael was still fast asleep, and I decided to leave him that way. I leaned down and pulled the blankets up to his chin, then ran one hand affectionately over the back of his head. His hair was perfectly trimmed as it always was, but in the evenings and early mornings there was a shadow of dark stubble on his chin. Those were my favourite times. As much as I loved the fact that he was always so well-groomed, those little moments of imperfection made me feel closer to him.
I sighed softly to myself, adjusted the blanket a tiny bit more, then I left him to sleep. Our bags sat waiting for us in the living room, small and pathetic but somehow enough to give me hope. With time and effort, this place would be our home. Our baby would be born here in a little under six months. I smiled and ran my hand across my belly; there was no sign of her yet, but I knew she was in there somewhere.
Our baby. My baby. Unexpectedly, I found tears in my eyes. To think, I'd been so terrified of the idea not very long ago, and now… I realised with some shock that I was looking forward to meeting my firstborn child. I glanced towards my bedroom and stared at the closed door. I'd have to tell Michael soon, once I worked out the best way to break the news. He was going to be so happy.
A knock on the door interrupted my train of thought and drew me back to the present. I went over to the door, but my hand hesitated on the lock. Was it safe out there? I wasn't so sure anymore.
"Who's there?" I called, my hand resting on the door handle.
"It's Mary. Mary Ferguson," a female voice replied. I immediately tensed up; the last time I'd heard that voice, it had been raised in anger. But now it sounded shy, and just as nervous as I felt. I took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and opened it.
Mary was alone, and her face was a mask of shame. I moved out into the corridor and pulled the door closed behind me. The moment the door was closed, she looked at me and the words tumbled out of her.
"I'm so sorry," she said earnestly. "About what we did last night. We made a terrible mistake – and a stupid mistake, at that." She took a deep breath, then looked down at her feet. "I'm here on behalf of the others. They were all going to come, but we realised that you'd probably be… afraid of us, after what we did. Dad asked me to represent us. Really, we can't apologise enough. I hope we didn't hurt you."
I stared at her while her words sank in, unsure what to make of the apology. It certainly seemed honest and heartfelt, but did that make up for what they'd almost done? If Maddy hadn't shown up when she had, then I might not have survived the night.
"Mary…" I said, a little hesitantly. "Look, I'll be honest with you. You scared the hell out of me. I thought that you and your friends were going to kill me. I'm sorry, but it's going to take time for me to get over that enough to forgive you. I hope you understand."
"I do," she said, awkwardly shuffling her feet. "We weren't… we weren't going to kill you. I don't know what we thought we were going to do. Maybe punish you, scare you enough to see that your path was wrong, but… it doesn't matter now. We see now that we were in the wrong, not you. We should have taken the time to ask, rather than just jumping to conclusions. We can leave, if you want us to—"
"No, you don't have to leave," I said quickly, shaking my head. "Everyone is welcome in Tumanako. You made a mistake, but I'm not going to hold that against you in the long term. It's just going to take some time before I can personally forgive you. But I do appreciate the effort you made in coming here. In future, if you have a problem with anyone, please talk to them first. If it's a serious problem, you can always come to me or one of the other council members and we'll help you work it out."
"I understand," she said, glancing up at me again, her eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you. We'll… we'll find some way to make this up to you, I promise. You were only trying to do the right thing for everyone." She hesitated for a moment, and took a step backwards. "I'll go n
ow and leave you in peace. I hope you have a good morning."
"Likewise," I replied. She curtseyed awkwardly, then turned on her heel and raced off. Behind me, the door opened and Michael stuck his head out.
"What was that about?" he asked.
"She came to apologise for last night," I replied, shaking my head. "I wish they'd thought of that before they attacked me and scared the hell out of me, but I guess the last ten years have been a bit hard on everyone. No one's thinking rationally right now. We're all learning how to be… human all over again."
Michael touched my shoulder and nodded. "We'll get there eventually. All of us. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you last night."
"It's okay," I said, brushing his apology away with a gesture. "It wasn't your fault. We've all gotten so used to the people with us that we forget some people have conflicting beliefs, or might be offended by the little things we say without thinking. That's an important lesson for all of us to remember: everyone is different. Hopefully, we can learn how to use that to bring us together instead of tearing us apart, because these very different people are the only ones we have left to rely on."
"Very true," he replied. He put his arm around me and gave me a kiss, then smiled. "Shall we go get breakfast on?"
"Yeah," I agreed. "We've got a lot to do today, and it looks like the weather isn't going to be very agreeable. Red sky in the morning..."
Michael just laughed and nodded. Hand in hand, we headed downstairs to get ready to face the day.
***
It was nearly mid-morning before we had everyone fed, clothed, and ready for work or school. I put away the last clean dish and went out into the dining room, where I found just about every citizen of Tumanako sitting around waiting for instructions on where to begin.
That was a big task. I took a deep breath and decided to start with the smallest piece of the puzzle: the kids. Anahera was sitting on one of the couches, surrounded by a mob of adoring youngsters. I smiled to myself, remembering the day I'd first met her. I remembered wondering how anyone could get anything done with someone that beautiful for their teacher, but suddenly it made sense. Anahera wasn't just gorgeous, she was charismatic. The children wanted to pay attention to her, as did most of the men – and not a few of the women, either.
