by Mark Gordon
Chapter 48
Panic
When Matt spray-painted the directions to 'Two Hills' on the doors of the Police Station, it never occurred to him that he was putting himself and the girls in danger. Now his well-meaning attempt to reach out to other survivors had backfired, and he felt responsible. The ten-minute trip back from Millfield had felt like hours, such was his feeling of dread, so when Matt reached the farm he stopped the truck as close as he could to the house and jumped down from the cab, before sprinting frantically towards the front door. He was halfway across the yard, when the screen door swung open with a squeak and Montana stepped out, with Gabby not far behind.
“Hello,” she said. “You weren’t gone long.”
“Is everything okay?” he blurted. “Have you seen anyone?”
“No. Should we have?”
Matt’s relief was profound. “No. I guess not. I think someone’s been in town, so we’ll need to keep an eye out until the fence is finished.”
He was puffing as he followed the girls up the stairs, and before he entered the house he turned and surveyed the tree line in the distance. When he was sure that he couldn’t see anything unusual, he headed indoors.
They sat at the kitchen table while Matt described the emptiness he’d found in town, and the smashed doors of the Police Station. Montana was relieved that the feeders had moved on, but was equally concerned about the possibility of hostile survivors in the vicinity. They agreed it would be best if they stayed together until the fence was finished, and that they needed to be extra vigilant at all times. The concern on Gabby’s face was clear, but after Montana hugged her and told her that she was safe, the girl cheered up and asked if Montana would take her to the classroom to read.
“Good idea,” said Matt, as he stood up and headed to the front door. “I have a fence to finish.”
-
By the time Matt had concreted the last metal post into the ground, it was late in the afternoon and he was tired. If everything went according to his plans, he would have the wire fixed to the supports by this time tomorrow afternoon, and the farm would be relatively secure. Providing they could get through tonight without incident, he felt that tomorrow they would be able relax somewhat, and begin to rebuild their lives. He walked towards the large arc lights that had been set up at the front of the house, and studied the countryside that surrounded the farm. He wondered if the person (or people) who had smashed the doors of the Police Station were hiding and watching them. He tried to convince himself that it was just a wanton act of vandalism, but after the events of the last week he knew that anything was possible. He started up the generators, which flooded the area in front of the farm in light. Then he went inside to see what the girls were up to.
Montana had the fire roaring and was in the kitchen peeling potatoes at the kitchen table while Gabby sat beside her, drawing in a large pad. Matt sat down with her. “What are you drawing sweetheart?”
“I’m drawing a picture of mummy. See?” She held it out for Matt and Montana.
“It’s very good.”
“It’s a present for when she gets here.”
Matt and Montana looked at each other, not sure how to deal with the lie they believed they were cultivating. Finally Matt spoke, “Gabby honey, as soon as the fence is finished we can look for mummy, but maybe she’ll be too hard to find. Lots of people have turned into those feeders, and maybe your mummy has too, sweetheart. You know we might never find her.”
The little girl looked at Matt and replied confidently, “No she’s okay. She’s on her way here with some friends. She’s coming home.”
“How can you know that?” Montana asked, shaken.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just know things now. Maybe I dream them. I’m not sure, but I know mummy’s coming.”
It was Matt’s turn to ask a question. “Do you know when she’ll arrive?”
She thought about it for a second, and then responded tentatively, “No … I don’t know that. I just know she’s trying to come. It might be hard to get here.”
Montana stood up and took the peeled and cut potatoes to the saucepan of water, which was boiling on the stove. “Come on Gabby, let’s get dinner on. I’m starving!”
“Me too”, said the girl, seeming to forget about her mother for the moment.
After dinner they worked together to clean up the kitchen. Matt and Montana tucked Gabby into bed for the night and went to the front veranda, where they sat with cups of coffee and stared into the brightly lit forest. The low-pitched drone of the generators provided the backdrop for their conversation as the night turned cooler. Montana was wrapped in a blanket, in contrast to Matt, who was still wearing a sweat-stained t-shirt from earlier in the day.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.
“No, not really. I love this weather, when the days get shorter and it’s cold enough to light the fire. I have more energy to get jobs done around the farm. Mum loved it too. She used to say she felt more civilised during the colder months.”
He looked at Montana. “I wonder what that means now? Civilised, I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, think of all of the things that we’ve lost since the event. Cities, movies, books, the Internet, TV, sport, restaurants, shopping - it’s all gone. All of that effort and endeavour is just history - something that humans did for a few thousand years. It’s all about survival now, isn’t it? All of that other stuff is just so much … what? … Luxury, I suppose. Nobody will have time for those things now. Maybe there aren’t enough survivors left to even try.”
“I think you’re wrong actually.”
Matt turned and looked at her, surprised. Montana laughed.
“What?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Do you think everything you say is true?”
“Well …”
“Listen Matt, I might be blonde and cute, but I’m not stupid. You’re right about some of the things we’ve lost, but people will find a way to create a civilisation. They always have. I remember learning about the Holocaust in history class. Even in the horror of the concentration camps, people still wrote poetry and sang songs. Gabby still wants to read books, doesn’t she? Hey, maybe one day she’ll write one. Who knows?”
Matt looked at Montana with a puzzled expression. “Do I know you?” he asked, smiling at her with renewed affection.
“Not yet,” she replied, with a wink. “But you never know your luck, do you?”
-
A couple of hours later, Matt lay in bed listening to the hum of the generators outside, and analysed the conversation he’d had with Montana earlier. He thought about Montana sleeping in his parents' room nearby. Had he made too many assumptions about her? Was his judgement of her true personality clouded by his initial impression of her? Most of the girls he had known seemed fairly one-dimensional. He had never connected with any of them on anything other than a superficial level. But maybe he was the shallow one, categorising people according to his stereotyped expectations. How did he know what was in Montana’s head? He was confused. Was he genuinely attracted to her, or was it simply a case of 'the last girl on earth'? He felt so stupid for going over these childish thoughts while Montana was probably sound asleep in her bed, oblivious to his angst. He rolled over and closed his eyes tightly and tried to force himself to go to sleep.
“This is ridiculous!” he thought, as he twisted back the other way to find a position that might help him drift off. A silhouette was framed in the doorway.
“I can’t sleep," a soft voice said. "Can I crawl in with you?”
“Oh. Sure. Is everything okay?
“I need to hold somebody,” she said, as Matt shuffled across in his bed.
“Face the other way,” she requested.
He did as asked and rolled towards the window once more. He felt her arm go around his waist and when he sensed the silky smooth skin of her breasts on his back he thought it was the most pleasant thing he’d ever felt in his life.
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br /> “Thanks Matt,” she said, sighing intimately into his ear.
“That’s okay,” he replied, staring wide-eyed at the pale rectangle of the bedroom window.
Outside, in the dark, beyond the lights, a single pair of eyes watched the house.
