The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn

by Dreyer, V. L.

  Michael smiled at that comment and nodded his agreement. “You’re right. They’re alone and injured, we can’t just leave them.”

  “And they’ve been providing us with a service all of these years,” I added. “We owe them a lot for that. It seems like a fair trade to me.”

  “I think Mum will want to help, too,” Hemi added, leaning over to inspect the map with us.

  “Can you spare the manpower right now?” I shot a worried look at him, but he just shrugged.

  “We have to, I think. Like you said, we owe these people a lot, and we want the power back on as much as you do.” He flashed us a grin, showing straight, white teeth that contrasted vividly against his smooth brown skin. “Lord knows I need a shower.”

  “Yeah, you really do,” Skye teased him playfully, then squealed gleefully and ducked out of reach when he made a mock charge in her direction.

  “Keep it down, you two – Doc’s trying to listen,” I scolded playfully, amused by their antics. To my surprise, they actually obeyed, though that might have been because Skylar ducked behind me to use me as a human shield.

  “I’ll go get Hemi sorted with a radio and his tools, so he can head home and speak to Anahera,” Michael volunteered, then glanced to me. “Take care of the planning for us? You know the area best.”

  “I’m on it.” I sketched a salute, which made him smile. He nodded to me and quickly kissed my cheek, then took Hemi and left us to our planning. The doctor was just finishing up with his questions when I approached. He glanced at me and gestured for me to take over. I settled in the chair and drew a deep breath to bolster my confidence. Skye quickly showed me the button to press to make it work, and I did so.

  “Hi, I’m Sandy,” I introduced myself. “I need to ask you some questions about the terrain en route to your location. Are you able to answer?”

  “Hello. My name is Rebecca Merrit and my husband’s name is Jim,” The female voice replied. “We haven’t moved from here in a while, but we’ll do our best to answer your questions. Which direction will you be coming from?”

  “The west,” I said. “Our base of operations is in Ohaupo.”

  “Ohaupo? That was my home town. How’s the place holding up?”

  “Not well,” I told her honestly; there was no sense in lying. “You really don’t want to know what it was like when we got here.”

  “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m not surprised.” She paused for a long moment, then pointedly changed the subject. “How many people do you have with you?”

  “Five, but that’s including children, so we’ll only be bringing two adults.” I heard Skylar start to protest, but I ignored her. “There’s also about a dozen people living on one of the lakes a little further west, too, but I’m not sure how many they’ll be able to send yet – they’ve just had a fire.”

  “Only two… well, seven hands are better than three. We’ll take any help we can get. We’ve been broadcasting as often as we can all week and you’re the first people we’ve heard a reply from.”

  “Your signal is very faint,” I explained. “We barely heard you at all – we just happened to get lucky. What’s the terrain like between here and Arapuni? I’ve been to the south and the east a bit, and it was pretty wild out there. I have maps and a GPS unit, but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how out of date they are.”

  “Definitely wild this way, too,” the woman agreed. “We have tried to keep the roads clear, but there’s only so much two people can do. Keeping the station running takes most of our time. You’ll need to take the south road through Te Awamutu. The northern route was blocked a few years back by a rock fall.”

  “Got it.” I followed the route on the map with my finger. “What’s the condition of the river? I can’t tell from this map.”

  “It runs through a gorge at Arapuni, and flattens out to the north and south,” she explained. “Stick to the road though, and cross at the bridge by the catchment dam. The bush is extremely dense on your side of the river. I don’t recommend trying to ford the river if you can avoid it. The current is deceptively strong.”

  “Noted.” I traced the curve of the river to the bridge and tapped it absently with one fingernail. That bridge meant a long detour to the south, but we’d have to do it – I had no intention of getting myself drowned. “What about the infected in your region? Are they a threat?”

  “Infected humans? No. We’ve put most of them out of their misery already. This is pig country, though, so be careful.”

  “Ugh, I hate pigs.” I sighed and made a mental note to go armed.

  “Yeah, me too. They’re no good at negotiating steep inclines, though, so at least the terrain works to your advantage.” She sounded sympathetic. I filed that bit of information away for future reference. “When you’re on the east side of the river, follow the road north. The station is on the centre island, where the river splits. Do you see it?”

  “I see it. How do we cross?”

  “When you’re heading north towards the town centre, keep an eye out for an old walkway that branches off towards the west. I’ll mark it for you so you can’t miss it. The path will lead you to a swing bridge, and then just follow the path south again.”

  “So, kind of like a spiral.” I considered the map thoughtfully. That was a lot of extra travel, but we didn’t have much choice. “Are you okay for supplies? Food, water, clothing?”

  “We’re fine for the basics, thank you. Arapuni township was well-stocked, and we’re pretty much on our own down here. We can feed your people while you’re here, too.” There was silence for a moment, and then the man’s voice returned. “If you’ve got any vodka, though, I’d kill for a drink.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and heard the others chuckling behind me. “I’ll see what I can do. It’ll take us a couple of days to reach you, so stay safe.”

  “You too, lass. Mind the pigs. And… thank you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  As soon as I was off the radio, Skylar was on me like a dog on a bone.

  “Why can’t I go? I’m an adult. I’m useful. I could help!” She smacked me in the arm with one petite fist. “Don’t treat me like a baby!”

  The doctor took one look at the potential fight brewing and made himself scarce. He muttered something about needing to put the prescriptions together and hurried out of the room. I just rolled my eyes, then turned my full attention on Skylar.

  “I have never once treated you like a baby, Skye. I consider you a grown adult, and a strong, capable member of this group,” I told her calmly. That answer seemed to surprise her, which gave me a momentary respite to justify my decision. “In fact, that’s why I want you to stay. If we took you as well, we’d be stripping all the defenders away from our home and leaving it completely undefended.

  “I need you to stay here because I know I can trust you to take care of our home, and Madeline. Doc’s getting on in years, and you know that he just about wets himself if someone asks him to fight. If something happens, I want someone here that I know can hold her own. I also need you to manage communications, and you’re especially good at that.”

  Skylar stared at me, her brow furrowed in confusion.

  I sighed, and translated into layman’s terms. “I need you to talk to other survivors on behalf of the group.”

  Her expression brightened. “Oh, you mean like Hemi’s tribe?”

  “Precisely,” I said, nodding. “Michael’s giving him one of our walkie-talkies, but by the time he gets home we’re probably going to be out of range. If they decide to come and help as well, you’re going to need to pass the directions on to them. You were listening, right?”

  “I remember every word.” Skye nodded enthusiastically, her anger forgotten and her eyes twinkling. I knew then that I’d sold her on the idea. Hey, apparently I was getting back into the big sister groove after all, or maybe I’d picked up one or two of Michael’s leadership skills..

  “Good.” I put a hand on her shoul
der and gave it a gentle squeeze. “If they decide to go, tell them everything. They’re cool, so if they need to borrow anything, then let them, so long as it doesn’t put us in danger. I trust you to use your best judgement. Even more importantly, I need you to keep track of things around here, and reassure me you guys are okay – you know how worried I get. I’ll call you on the first evening after we arrive, at sunset.”

  “Okay, I can do that.” She nodded again and embraced me quickly, then stepped back and looked up at me. “Sorry I doubted you, sis.”

  “It’s okay.” I smiled down at her and gave her a wink. “I’d have thought the same thing in your position. The only reason I selected Michael and me to go is because he’s the physically strongest of us, and I have the most mechanical knowledge. You’re better at managing people than I am, and you’re a good shot as well, so it just seems logical that you hold down the home front.”

  “Makes sense,” Skye agreed, her short blonde curls bobbing as she nodded vigorously. “You can count on me.”

  Suddenly looking very pleased with herself, Skye spun on her heel and bounced out of the room. I watched her go, shook my head in amusement, and headed off about my own business. My task, as the group’s makeshift mechanic, was to make sure our even more makeshift mechanicals were in functioning order before we went anywhere.

  I popped into the kitchen to fetch the keys to the Hilux off their shelf, then headed for the door. During my routine check-ups on the vehicles, the utility’s engine had been starting to get less and less reliable. Something was wrong with it, but I couldn’t work out exactly what it was or how to fix it. It came as no great surprise to me, though. The poor old truck was probably about as old as I was; it was kind of a miracle that we’d gotten this much use out of it.

  When I stepped outside, I saw Michael and Hemi working together to load the basket back onto the little farm bike. I waved at them. They waved back, but they seemed to have everything under control so I left them to it and headed down the road towards the old mechanic’s workshop. The workshop was clean, dry and spacious, and had all the tools I needed on hand, so it had seemed like a logical place to keep our cars.

  The minivan sat abandoned in the yard, waiting to be disassembled for parts. It had died the long death barely two days after we’d arrived in Ohaupo, and no amount of coaxing or cursing had convinced it to return from the other side of the grave. Our prison transport was faring much better than either of the others, for the simple reason that it’d been stored underground for the last decade. Unfortunately, it was ill-suited for our current mission.

  I knew the condition of the roads near Te Awamutu, and we’d need a four-wheel drive to get through. My Hilux was the best vehicle for the job, but the problem was that whenever I started her up, she made a bizarre sound, like the cough of a dying walrus. I hadn’t found the source of the problem yet, but I knew that was not a good noise for a car to be making.

  The temperature changed as I stepped out of the sun and into the cool, dark shadow of the garage. For a moment, I regretted the need to leave the sunshine, but then my internal temperature adjusted and I forgot all about my brief discomfort. I went over to the car and pulled open the driver’s door, then stuck the keys in the ignition and turned. The Hilux whined and coughed pathetically, complaining about the need to work.

  It took three tries before the ignition finally caught. The engine spluttered to life, but it only did so reluctantly and with an assortment of very unhappy noises. Intent on trying to figure out what was the matter, I went around to the front of the machine and popped up the bonnet. The Hilux was a lifeline for us. It was the only way we had to get from point A to point B without having to travel on foot. I was concerned that losing it would cut off our freedom to move. There were a few other vehicles lying abandoned on the outlying farms that I could probably repair if I had to, but fixing them up would cost valuable time that we didn’t really have.

  “What’s wrong with it?” a familiar, deep voice asked. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Michael’s broad frame outlined in the doorway.

  “I think it needs a new starter motor, or maybe an alternator,” I answered, returning my attention to the engine. “The problem is that I have no idea how to replace one of those, and we don’t really have time for me to figure it out.”

  “I guess we’ll have to risk it. If something happens, we’ll ditch it and come back for it later,” Michael suggested. I sighed, not much liking the option, but it was the only one we had.

  “We better pack wisely, then,” I said, straightening up and planting my hands on my hips. Then a second pair of hands joined mine, and I felt a strong, warm body pressing up against my back.

  “Mhm… very wisely,” he agreed, nuzzling his face in against the curve of my neck. His hands slipped around my waist, sliding up beneath my top to explore my belly; I suddenly realised that I could feel the evidence of where his thoughts had gone pressed up against my back.

  “Really, Officer Chan?” I teased him. “Here? Isn’t public nudity a criminal offense?”

  “It’s only an offense if you have a public to offend,” he answered, grunting something that resembled a chuckle. His lips were so close against my ear that I could barely make out what he was saying – but for once in his life, his law-abiding nature didn’t seem to be at the forefront of his thoughts.

  Before I knew it, our clothing had somehow miraculously disappeared, and we were up against the side of the Hilux breaking as many laws as we could think of.

  ***

  Later, once our rampant libidos had been sated and we could focus on the task at hand, I drove the Hilux around to the motel and parked it out the front while we organised our gear. Since we knew that we might have to ditch the truck at a moment’s notice and continue on foot, we packed lightly.

  One spare change of clothes, plus socks and underwear for a week. Four days’ worth of food and water, GPS unit, maps and a first-aid kit. Camp stove and cooking equipment. Sleeping bags and jackets for night time. Walkie-talkies. Weapons.

  Michael and I decided that it was in our best interest to take one of the new weapons with us, since we were going in to pig country. Neither of us had any desire to take on a pig without the proper protection. I took Michael’s shotgun, since it was a weapon that I was familiar and comfortable with, and Michael armed himself with one of the M16s.

  We added spare ammunition to the pile, on the justification that it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to infected wildlife. Michael volunteered to take the weight, and I was grateful for it. While I was athletic, I had to acknowledge his superior physical strength. It wasn’t his success or my failure. It was just a fact of nature. He was biologically hardwired for it.

  I found it interesting to observe that one of the side-effects of having to live in the ruins of a dead civilization was that in some ways feminism had died along with it, while in other ways it had grown stronger than ever. Now, every hand was equally important to the survival of the group as a whole, because the strengths of one person balanced out the weaknesses of another. We’d finally achieved equality, but it was through acknowledging and accepting our differences instead of trying to ignore them. The gender dynamic of the human species seemed to have evolved.

  Anahera’s tribe was a prime example. In her previous life she’d been a primary school teacher, but now that experience gave her the skills to lead. She wasn’t the strongest, oldest, or the most skilled of her group, but no one seemed to doubt her leadership, or suggest that someone else should be in charge. She ordered her men to jump, and they jumped – not because she had breasts, or because she scared them, but because they knew that they could rely on her to keep them all alive.

  I had noticed with a detached fascination that the same thing seemed to have begun to evolve amongst the members of my own group. Although Michael had been the de facto leader when I met them, more and more often my group-mates were looking to me for advice, information or guidance – even Michael.
No… especially Michael.

  I rather liked the feeling, knowing people looked up to me. Despite having spent the last ten years as a loner, Michael had been right when he pointed out that I was a social butterfly by nature. The only reason I had become an introvert to begin with was as a defence mechanism to protect me from the terrible situations that I’d found myself in over the years. Fear was a cocoon, to protect the fragile butterfly inside me from the dangers of the outside world.

  Michael had once called me gregarious, and at the time I’d denied it. As time passed and I had a chance to mull it over, I’d come to understand what he meant – and more importantly, to realise that he was right. Necessity had forced me to bottle up that aspect of my personality, and bury it so far down in my psyche that I’d forgotten about it. As I spent more and more time more time around good people, I began to remember the parts of me that I’d hidden away: I liked people. I liked being around people. I liked talking and helping, loving and being loved.

  That was a trait that had made me vulnerable, and that vulnerability had made me an easy victim for the predators of the world, so I’d hidden it away deep inside where it couldn’t hurt me anymore. Now, being around friends and family that cared about me had helped me to dig that trait back up from the deepest recesses of my mind. Not only had I gained a family, but I had also regained a piece of myself.

  Once, when we’d lain together in the dark enjoying the easy companionship of being together, Michael had told me how much he enjoyed watching me evolve before his very eyes. He had said it was like watching a butterfly finally emerging from her chrysalis after so many years of waiting.

  I had smiled to myself in the dark, thinking that was probably about the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me, then I’d promptly accused him of calling me a caterpillar. We’d both laughed.

  Although it had been less than two months since I had joined the group, I’d come to greatly value the opinions of my little family. I really enjoyed knowing that they looked up to me, and that they respected me for my experience. I was pleased by the thought that they missed me when I went away, and were happy to see me when I came home again.