Survivors of the Sun

by Kingslie, Mia

  She checked her watch; it was now 11.25 a.m. As soon as they reached Holmes Road she would check the time again, that would give her an idea of how long it took them to travel half a mile and that in turn would finally give her an idea of how fast they were travelling.

  The sun was very hot, and there was little shade. They moved slowly, Rebecca now taking the trundler, the wheels bumping and dipping across the unevenness of the sidewalk. The dogs kept pace with them, panting and snapping at flies every so often. They seemed to think the whole thing a wonderful adventure. The best walk they had ever been on.

  Except for Ant, she lay panting in her bag. ‘It must be nearly 100 degrees Fahrenheit,’ Georgia thought. In normal times, she would never have even considered letting the children go outside in this heat. Wish I thought to get them hats.

  It took them only fifteen minutes to reach the turnoff. As they rested a moment under a solitary oak tree, Georgia noticed that the children were beginning to get sunburnt. Especially Rebecca and Jamie, their skin was so fair, Deedee, it seemed did not burn quite so easily.

  She had to do something about that. She called a break, and searched through the bags for the children’s spare t-shirts. They would have to use those to keep the sun of their faces and the backs of their necks. The last thing any of them needed right now was to get really badly sunburnt, or worse. As she helped Deedee tie the sleeves together, forming a rough, old fashioned, workman’s cap, she calculated that they were moving at about two miles an hour. Not as fast as she would have liked by any means, but even so at this rate they had less than four hours walk ahead of them.

  Georgia had thought that it would have been Deedee that would slow them down but in reality, it was herself that was doing that. She was finding the heavy backpack a struggle, but she dare not lighten the load.

  ‘Does anyone want a longer break,’ she asked, faintly hopeful as she waved a persistent fly away. That, was another thing that had changed, there were so many flies. She had not really noticed until now, and they were everywhere, an almost constant droning sound in the background. What made it worse; was knowing why there were so many flies.

  To her surprise, the children wanted to keep going. Just after four o’clock, they crossed a small stream and the dogs, suffering dreadfully from the heat, plunged in. Millie, who normally would just hop from paw to paw, in front of the water did not even stop to think about it. She was in that water so fast, anyone would have thought she was an otter. Georgia helped Ant out of her bag and watched her join the others, standing tummy deep, and then rolling, in a half sitting position, attempting to get the back of her neck wet.

  There were a couple of saplings nearby, providing a little shade and Georgia directed the children beneath them, although, it did not seem to be that much cooler there. A wind had sprung up, but it didn’t help, it was a hot dry wind that made Georgia feel as though she were standing in front of a blow heater, with the heat on full blast.

  She slid the shotgun off her shoulder and then, oh what relief, shrugged free of the pack. She massaged her aching shoulders as the children drank a little from their water bottles, and then asked if they could cool down in the water as well.

  ‘As long as you take off your shoes and socks, and don’t get any water in your mouth!’ Georgia insisted. After a few moments, she decided she would join them. As she took off her shoes, she was astonished to find that her socks were drenched though with sweat. Wet enough to wring out, she gathered up all the socks, rinsed them in the stream, and hung them on a branch to dry. Then she was in the water, up to her knees, the cool water, bliss, on her burning hot feet.

  Afterwards they sat on the grass, the wet legs of their jeans cooling them, watching two dragonflies, darting back and forth, oblivious to the fact that anything untoward had happened.

  Millie suddenly gave a warning growl. Georgia leapt to her feet, reaching for the shotgun as she urgently scanned their surroundings, looking for the reason. In the distance, on a side road, she spotted a couple walking towards them. The woman was pulling a blue suitcase behind her, and had another large carry bag slung over her shoulder. Her partner, was laden down with bags as well. They hesitated when they first caught sight of Georgia and the children. Georgia waved at them, the man, his hands too full to wave back had lifted his chin in a form of greeting, and slowly they came closer.

  ‘Have you heard anything?’ the man asked, as he hitched the strap of one of the bags, back over his shoulder. He did it as though he had already done that a hundred times, ‘and he probably had,’ thought Georgia before answering him.

  ‘Not a lot,’ she sighed. ‘But I would advise you to be very careful.’

  The woman let go of her suitcase and sank down on the ground next to her, her blue silk skirt billowing up; she looked all done in. Millie took this as an invitation to leap all over her.

  ‘Millie! Get down,’ Georgia scolded. Millie looked at her for a moment, but then did as she was told, stepping off the woman’s lap and sitting down next to her, bottom wiggling enthusiastically.

  ‘Careful in what way?’ The man asked.

  ‘There is a lot of burning and looting and killing, there seems to be mobs of people everywhere, we just managed to escape, the last mob was on Warnall, at the Goodwill store, if you know where that is.’

  ‘I know where you mean, not going that way though.’

  The children, who had looked ready to run, when Millie had started growling, had settled down behind Georgia, watching the newcomers warily.

  ‘So where have you come from?’ Georgia asked, shading her eyes as she looked up at him, wishing he would sit, he looked like he desperately needed to. Perhaps he is afraid he won’t be able to get up again?

  ‘From Gardner, we have been on the road for two days, it seems to have been relatively quiet though. People appear to be staying in their houses from what I can gather and…’

  The woman interrupted him, ‘we slept under a bridge last night, worst night of my life.’ She spoke very quietly, a faraway look in her eyes. Georgia nodded sympathetically, but didn’t reply to that, she was not certain if the woman was talking to her, or to herself. These people seemed to be even less prepared than she was. Even she had not even considered dragging a suitcase across the state. ‘You know about the risk of the power stations?’ Georgia asked.

  ‘Melting down? Yes, half the reason we left home, Gardner’s a bit too close to the power station. We are headed to Linda’s parents, hopefully they are still there, they have horses and we thought that as a group we could ride out of state to somewhere safer.’

  Linda (as apparently the woman was called), turned to look up at her companion, holding out her hand. ‘Pass me the thermos bottle, I may as well fill it with water.’

  ‘No it’s okay Linda, I will do it. We are getting low on water,’ he said as he walked down to the river’s edge.

  Georgia looked at him in horror. ‘You can’t just drink that, you will get sick and you don’t know what is in it. At the very least, you should boil it.’

  He was now kneeling down by the edge of the river, undoing the screw top. He shrugged his shoulders, ‘It looks clean enough, so it should be fine.’

  For a moment she considered offering them some of their water, but decided against it, they had little enough, and they needed every drop. She gave a heavy sigh. ‘At least let me boil you some water.’ Was she crazy for offering to do that, it would take at least half an hour, because to be sure that the water would be safe for drinking it had to be boiled for at least twenty minutes, and they would have to chop wood to make a fire, which meant unpacking the axe. A fire would make smoke, and smoke would attract attention.

  He didn’t seem to be paying her any heed.

  ‘Seriously,’ she exclaimed, ‘we can make a fire and…,’

  ‘Oh, there is a fire ban on,’ Linda exclaimed, ‘we couldn’t possibly do that.’

  Georgia stared at her open mouthed. A fire ban? You have got to be kidding. What
planet was she on?

  ‘She’s right,’ the man said, tilting the bottle into the stream and slowly filling it, ‘there is a fire ban. I’ve never broken the law and I am not going to start now.’

  Georgia was about to insist. What am I doing? If these people want to drink potentially contaminated water, that’s their choice. Actually, she was kind of relieved. They really couldn’t afford to take the risk with the smoke, and the extra time it would take.

  The couple left shortly afterwards, the blue suitcase wobbling precariously behind them. Rebecca came and stood next to Georgia as they finally disappeared out of sight.

  ‘I hope her parents are home, because they don’t seem very smart.’

  ‘My sentiments exactly’, Georgia agreed. ‘I fear for them.’

  ‘But horses would be nice,’ Jamie said, ‘wish it was us, imagine if we had horses.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Deedee said, coming up between Rebecca and Georgia, ‘I think I would like a horse much more than walking.’ Georgia laughed at her serious voice.

  ‘But I thought you didn’t like horses.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Deedee said, ‘but I changed my mind I think.’

  They all laughed at this, and it felt very good to laugh. Georgia reached up to check the socks. They were bone dry, which was hardly surprising. ‘Well, I guess we had better be making a move. The good news is that we only have to walk another two hours and we will be at Grandma Johnson house.’

  ‘How long is two hours?’ Deedee asked, as they began walking.

  ‘It is as long as it took us from where we last rested until we reached here. Not that long was it?’ Georgia said, trying to make it sound as though it were little more than around the corner.

  ‘It seemed like forever.’

  ‘Well once we get there it will seem like no time at all.’

  Jamie had the trundler now, the girls walking a little ahead. Ant was back in her bag asleep, the swim had worn her out, and Georgia kept up the rear, her back, and shoulders and feet were killing her.

  ‘I wish we were in Bethel,’ Jamie exclaimed.

  ‘Me too,’ Rebecca agreed, ‘then we wouldn’t be walking anywhere, because Dad would have been with us and…’

  ‘Yeah, exactly,’ Jamie interrupted, ‘and he would have been able to stop those men, and no one would have burnt our house down.’

  The children continued talking along these lines, and Georgia couldn’t help agreeing with them, and if they had been down there…. But they weren’t there, they were here and they were all getting tired. Their pace had slowed, to little more than a dawdle, even though the going was a little easier now that the heat had gone from the sun.

  In fact, the wind was picking up a little more and as she glanced up at the sky, she realized that heavy black clouds were beginning to gather. ‘There was going to be a storm,’ she thought. Hopefully, it would hold off till after they arrived.

  It did, barely. The wind had become quite wild and was whipping at their clothes and Rebecca’s long hair kept getting wrapped across her face. Finally, they turned into Chestnut Street.

  So far, everything had looked fairly normal, aside from stalled vehicles scattered everywhere, and actually that had become part of the norm. Nevertheless, there were no signs of looting or damage. In fact it all looked rather orderly, if somewhat lacking in people. But the oncoming storm could account for that. People would be indoors.

  ‘Yay,’ Rebecca cried, ‘I can see Grandma Johnson’s place.’

  Georgia looked up. Rebecca was right. Up ahead of them was the large yellow stonewall that surrounded the property. It was well over eight feet tall; a high double wrought iron gate, in ‘Fleur de Lis’ style, revealing the long sweeping driveway. They reached it just as a large thunderclap crashed above them.

  Jamie shook the gate. ‘It is locked,’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Silly, it is remote controlled. You have to push this button here,’ Rebecca said with a totally exasperated tone to her voice, and a lot of eye rolling.

  ‘It won’t work Rebecca,’ Georgia said.

  ‘No, I guess not,’ she sighed, and Jamie delighted in asking her who was silly now?

  ‘How do you know it won’t work?’ Deedee asked.

  ‘Well of course it won’t work, Deedee,’ Jamie explained with exaggerated patience, ‘remember nothing works anymore.’

  ‘Well Georgia’s watch does.’

  ‘Well that’s different.’

  ‘How is it different?’

  Georgia could see this was going to be a long conversation. She cut it short. ‘Is there another way in?’

  ‘Yes the back way, there is a door that leads to the vegetable garden,’ Rebecca explained, pointing round to the side of the property.

  ‘How is it different?’ Deedee insisted.

  ‘I will tell you later,’ Georgia said, ‘right now I think it is more important that we get inside.’

  There was another huge clap of thunder. Deedee screamed, and Badger and Millie, both tried to get between Georgia’s legs, nearly bowling her over in their attempt. Ant came very close to being flung out of the bag, as Georgia struggled to keep her balance.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Georgia soothed, not even certain, if she was soothing Deedee, the dogs or herself. They followed Rebecca round the side of the property and a moment later, the rain started, heavy sheets pelted down upon them. Millie whined pitifully and Ant snuggled down deeper into her bag. The back gate was also locked.

  ‘It is always locked,’ Rebecca said, ‘but we can get in, because the key is kept here.’ As she spoke, she pushed over a stone lying nearby and picked up the key.

  The gate unlocked, they went into the yard. Georgia stood to one side letting the others pass through first. Three children and two dogs and Ant in the bag, they were all here and accounted for. They hurried up the long garden path towards the front of the house having shut and locked the gate behind them, rain drenching them, running into their eyes.

  It was, she decided a miracle that the dogs had stayed with them, in spite of the distance, the heat and everything else. A miracle that they had all arrived here safely, and a miracle, that the house was actually here and that no one had burnt it to the ground. It seemed that finally their luck had changed.

  They trooped up the front steps and stood on the porch, out of the rain, water streaming off them. Another clap of thunder rent the air around them. Unconsciously, Georgia shuddered. Nathan would have said that it was bad luck, very bad luck to arrive at a house on the wings of a storm. However, this time, it seemed he was wrong. Their luck had finally changed. She had brought the children, safe and sound, to their grandparent’s home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Georgia reached forward, took hold of the large brass ring and knocked on the door. She hoped that Grandma Johnson would not be so churlish as to take the children in and send her on her way, alone with the dogs. She had no idea where she would go if that happened. I will beg, she decided; beg to stay, just until Nathan turned up, if he came here.

  ‘Grandma will be so happy to see us,’ Rebecca repeated.

  They stood there, waiting, listening. There was no response. Georgia leaned forward straining to hear any sounds within, sounds of footfalls padding down the hallway towards the door, but there was only silence.

  ‘Knock again,’ Jamie said.

  Georgia lifted the knocker, and this time banged it down five or six times. There was still nothing. Finally, she decided to try the door. She gripped the handle and turned, it was not locked and the door swung half-open on well-oiled hinges. Carefully she pushed it open further.

  ‘Hello,’ she called, ‘is anyone there?’ The dogs unusually, hung back, normally you opened a door and they were in like a shot, especially Millie. Georgia stepped into the hall, closely followed by the children.

  ‘Hello,’ she called again, louder this time. ‘I have brought Rebecca and Jamie.’

  Still no response.

  Rebecca called next to he
r, ‘It’s me, Rebecca…’ her words echoing down the long hallway and up the solid wooden staircase leading upstairs.

  They moved a short way down the hall; Georgia paused outside a doorway. Tentatively she pushed it open and peered inside. It seemed to be a living room, with a large fireplace and leather sofas and expensive rugs. There was no one inside. She took off her pack and leaned it against the wood paneling.

  ‘Come in here,’ she said, ‘but don’t let the dogs get up on the sofas, their claws will scratch the leather. I am going to look round the house.’

  ‘Can we come with you?’ Rebecca asked.

  ‘No, I think it would be better if you stayed in here.’ She thought it wiser to check the house out on her own. It was one thing to see dead people on the street, dead strangers. If something had happened to their grandparents…, well she did not want them to see that.

  She checked through all the downstairs rooms, apprehensively turning the handles and then pushing open each door with her foot. She was gripping the shotgun tightly, the barrel pointed towards the ground, but ready if she needed it. At the back of the house, she found a huge kitchen, complete with a natural gas stove, and a pantry stocked to overflowing. There were several gas lanterns on the table, and a stack of dirty dishes on the sink and a couple of empty beer cans scattered on the countertop.

  Grandma Johnson was normally very tidy. Guess life changes when you don’t have water, and no power to run a dishwasher. She left the kitchen and went back past the room where the children were, and up the stairs.

  Making her way along the plush carpet and opening every door she came to. There were at least eight bedrooms, most of which seemed to have ensuites. The third bedroom was the only one with an unmade bed. Several plates of half-eaten food were stacked on a bedside table along with more beer cans.

  She checked all the bedrooms and bathrooms, but there was no one in the house. She did not see the cats either. She went back downstairs and asked Rebecca if there was a basement. It seemed to her that all American houses had basements.

  Rebecca nodded. ‘Yes, let me show you where it is.’ There was a panel, under the stairs, that Rebecca pushed, followed by an almost imperceptible click and a door swung open. Georgia peered into the opening. Stairs led down into the darkness.