The Last Survivors Box Set

by Bobby Adair

Melora shifted under the blanket so he couldn’t see her eyes. “No, we met him outside of Davenport. We’ve been traveling together.”

  “I see. For a second I confused him for your father.”

  “No.” Melora bit back a laugh. Changing the subject, she asked, “Can I still try your bow when we wake up?”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s a little more comfortable here without demons surrounding the building,” Melora said with a smile, rolling to face the doorway to the hall. “Maybe you were right about this area being safer.”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “Well, I’m going to nap. Sleep well, Ivory.”

  “You, too.”

  Ivory pulled his bow and his bag close to him. Then he closed his eyes.

  Chapter 14: Winthrop

  With no place shallow enough to ford, Winthrop’s army worked their way down the river until it spread out into a delta of swamps and shallow fingers of water all flowing toward the endless sea.

  “Our scouts tell me we can cross here,” one of Winthrop’s nameless priests told him as he stood looking across a brackish pool of stinking water. “There are plenty of demons in the swamp that way.”

  “Then we’ll have plenty of meat to fill our bellies,” said Winthrop as he looked at the murky brown water, imagining what manner of greedy monsters might be living beneath the surface, anxious to sink their teeth into his divine flesh.

  Pointing up and down the shore at the army, all standing on the shore, the nameless priest said, “We wait for you to lead us, Father.”

  Winthrop balked. That cold, clear water in the canyon in which he’d been immersed was one thing. In that water, he’d been able to see. If any monsters had come to take a bite of him, he’d have spotted them and been able to call on his disciples to slay them. In this soup, he’d have no such opportunity. He’d lose a foot or a leg before he knew what was attacking him. Winthrop’s bowels threatened to spill.

  I’m a god.

  Still, the brown water.

  “Father?” the nameless man persisted.

  Winthrop looked left and right. Nothing but more brown water. He looked over the tall trees across the bank and saw the tips of the Ancient City’s crumbling spires. He had to take his army there to fulfill his godly destiny. He had to.

  Surely there must be something to avoid the brown water.

  Wait!

  I’m a god.

  I can walk on it.

  I need only to will it.

  “We shall all go together,” Winthrop told his priest. “Tell my people to proceed.”

  The priest stepped into the water, walking until he was waist deep before he turned to face Winthrop’s army. He pointed at the far bank and addressed the men. “The demons are there. Our god commands us to cross the water and slay them. Let’s go!”

  Everyone on the bank shouted their war chant, took a few moments to get in sync, and then the mass of them lurched forward, stepping into the brown water without the slightest hesitation.

  Winthrop looked toward his brothers in the heavens, then looked at the water ahead of him, already full of his faithful minions. They flowed off the bank beside and from behind him. Winthrop was in the midst of all of them, lost to any lurking river monster that might be waiting. With so many tempting feet down in the water, how would a long-toothed monster find his divine feet walking on the surface?

  No chance. No monster could.

  That was the faith Winthrop needed. He walked down the sloping bank. Once at the water’s edge, he raised his chin, focused on the far shore, and took a long, confident stride out onto the water’s surface.

  A strange thing happened.

  The water was too evil to support Winthrop’s weight, and it gave way under his foot, throwing him off balance. He fell face first into the murk and mud.

  Chapter 15: Ella

  “William, come here a minute,” Ella said, watching his curious face as he explored one of the walls in the lower floor of the building. Every so often, he stopped to knock on it with the big sword he’d found, admiring the ancient material. He looked at her for several seconds as if she’d appeared there, even though she’d been following him for a while. She felt guilty for the way they’d argued outside.

  Looking around to make sure no one else was near, she asked, “What are you thinking about?”

  “I was just thinking how nice it would’ve been to have traveled here a hundred years ago.”

  Ella furrowed her brow, confused. “Why a hundred?”

  William waved his sword at the wall. He beckoned at the rooms upstairs. “In Brighton, we fix a stone when it falls out of place. We scrape the green, fuzzy plants that grow outside the walls. No one did that here.”

  “That’s because no one lives here,” Ella said with a shrug.

  “But that’s exactly my point,” William said. “We could’ve taken care of them, if we lived here. Each year, the condition of the city gets worse. If we’d been born earlier, we would’ve seen so much more. And if we’d lived during the times of the Ancients, we would’ve seen everything!”

  Ella laughed warmly at his reasoning. She couldn’t dispute it. “That’s a nice dream, William. But we can always imagine.”

  “That’s what I’ve been doing.” William’s reflective face turned into a smile. “I imagine this is my house, and all the pedestals downstairs are protecting the things I own.”

  “What would you keep down there?” Ella asked, playing along. For a minute, she was able to pretend they were back in Brighton, walking home from the marketplace like they’d done so many times before.

  “I’d have all manner of weapons,” William said, holding up his sword. “But not like these. I’d have devices that could stop a man with a touch. Devices that would compel men to tell the truth. And objects to take me from here to Brighton in less time than it takes to prepare a meal.”

  “Wow. You’d be the most powerful man in the Ancient City.” Ella grinned.

  “I’d be the most powerful man in all of the townships, never mind here.”

  “What would you do in Brighton?”

  William puzzled on it for a moment. “I’d bring back some of my belongings, just to show them off. But I wouldn’t sell them. I’d already have all the coin I needed.”

  Ella reached over and ruffled his hair. “I hope I’d be allowed to stay with you.”

  “Of course,” William said, his expression darkening. “But all the people in Brighton wouldn’t come near us, or touch us.”

  “No, they wouldn’t,” Ella said, a pit growing in her stomach as the playful game turned serious.

  “No one would burn anyone. No one would be in pain. They would listen to me, and do what I said.” His voice turned stern.

  “That’d be nice, William.” Ella pulled William close. She kissed his forehead. To her relief, he allowed her. She leaned back, watching his eyes wander across her face.

  “It’s fun to pretend, isn’t it?” she asked, blinking back tears, trying to calm her nervousness.

  “Yes, it is, Mom.”

  “I need you to do something for me, William.”

  William’s expression turned serious. “What is it?”

  “I need you to hide the lump on your neck from Ivory.”

  William nodded. “Okay.”

  Ella pulled his shirt higher on his body, ensuring he was covered. “We don’t know much about him yet. We don’t know who he might tell.”

  “I’ll hide it, Mom,” William said. “I promise.”

  William smiled, then broke away and resumed inspecting the wall.

  Chapter 16: Ella

  Ella sat next to Bray on the steps of the ancient building, chewing her nails. The warmth of the mid-day sun couldn’t erase the nervous
chill in her bones. She studied the cracked, upheaved road. A squirrel skittered over a vine-covered wall, appraising them before dipping out of sight. They’d left the barrier behind them partially uncovered.

  “Maybe Ivory’s right about the demons in this area,” Ella said. “I haven’t seen as many here as I thought I would.”

  “Maybe,” Bray admitted with a shrug.

  “What do you think of him?” she asked Bray.

  Bray smiled. “He seems all right. I like his bow.”

  “I know you do,” Ella frowned and scowled. “I’m sure that’s your primary concern. But I don’t trust him.”

  “He’s not a rabbit hunter. Or at least, that’s not all he is.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw him in Brighton. He was selling metals to the blacksmiths.”

  Panic and anger rose in Ella’s heart. “You know him? And you didn’t tell me?”

  Bray shrugged and spat in the dirt. “When would I have said something? In front of him?”

  Ella searched for a plausible reason for her anger, but couldn’t find one. Her anger turned to palpable fear. “Does he know you?”

  “No.” Bray stared off into the distance. “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re not sure.” Ella couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice. “What if he recognizes us? What if he figures out we’re from Brighton? He could give us up.”

  “I’d be able to tell, Ella. He thinks we’re from Davenport, just like Melora told him. I don’t think he questioned our story.”

  “And you’re willing to risk William’s life on that guess?” Ella looked through the partially exposed doorway behind them, as if William might be standing there, even though she heard him playing deeper in the building. “What if Ivory is collecting information so he can tell someone in Brighton? What if he knows the soldiers are looking for Melora?”

  “He’s a metal smuggler, Ella. Traveling to the Ancient City is as forbidden for him as it is for us.”

  “He could say he followed us from the woods.”

  “There’s no reward in turning in a woman and child on the run.” Bray grinned sideways at her. “If there was, I’d be headed in a different direction.”

  “That’s not funny.” Ella closed her eyes and reopened them. When she did, she noticed Bray had moved closer. She instinctively moved away. She knew her anger at Bray was misdirected, but her frustration about Ivory needed an outlet.

  “You’re letting your mind explore all the worst outcomes,” Bray said. “You’re worrying too much.”

  “I’m a mother. I can’t help it.”

  They fell silent for a few moments, listening to the squawk of birds and the shrieks of distant demons.

  “If it comes down to it, I’ll take care of Ivory. But we’re safe. Trust me.”

  “My children are all I have left,” Ella said matter-of-factly.

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?” Ella stared at him. “Motherhood isn’t a job you can abandon. No matter how far I have to go, whether it’s the Ancient City or the edge of the flat earth, I’ll protect them.”

  Bray sighed and looked off into the street. “You can’t protect them forever, Ella. They’re growing up.”

  Ella looked at Bray, wondering how much of the argument he’d heard between her and her children. To her surprise, he didn’t appear to be chastising her. His face was sympathetic.

  “I admire your devotion,” Bray said honestly. “But the best thing you can do is to teach them for when you’re not around. They’ll need your good sense to fall back on. That’s the way to keep them safe. Like my father did for me. Like your parents did for you.”

  Ella opened her mouth and closed it. She thought of the angered look on Melora’s face, the determined look on William’s. Then she recalled Frederick and Jean’s worry when she’d set off to marry Ethan and move to Brighton. She’d survived. She wanted to be angry at Bray for what he was telling her, but she knew he was telling the truth.

  “Letting go is a hard thing,” she admitted.

  Bray reached over and patted her leg.

  “I know it’s hard,” Bray agreed. “But you need to take care of yourself, too.”

  Ella looked down, realizing Bray’s hand was still on her. For some reason, she didn’t pull away. She looked at him, noting the cut on his ear from where he’d fought the soldiers for her and William.

  “You should clean your ear.” She looked down at his pants. “How’s your leg?”

  Bray shrugged. “I’ll live. At the worst, I’ll have another few scars to brag to the ladies about.”

  “You don’t need to embellish. I was there.” Ella smiled.

  Before she realized what she was doing, Ella leaned toward Bray. Surprise lit his face as he moved to meet her. She embraced him, pressing her lips against his. He smelled of the wild, the breakfast they’d eaten, and the experiences they’d shared. She closed her eyes, forgetting the anxieties that felt like they’d been sewn into her skin.

  Maybe Bray was right. Maybe she needed to let go.

  They kissed for several seconds, holding each other. She moved her hands up and down his shirt, running her hands from his shoulders to his arms to his neck. For a moment, Ella felt like she was in some alternate reality, where no one was sick and no one was in danger. What was she doing?

  A voice from behind Ella ripped her to the present. She broke away from Bray, instinctively recoiling. She turned.

  “William?”

  “Are you okay, Mom?”

  “I’m fine, honey. We were just talking.”

  Ella stood, wiped her lips, and hurried away from Bray. “I’ll talk to you later,” she whispered.

  Chapter 17: Ivory

  Ivory awoke with a start, casting aside the thin blanket draped over him, looking for his bag and bow. To his relief, they were next to him. He pulled them close, as if someone might be trying to snatch them.

  Melora wasn’t in the next room. He heard voices in the room downstairs, but it was impossible to discern whose they were.

  He hadn’t meant to sleep for long. His goal had been to close his eyes for a few moments of peace. He wanted to check on Jingo, but he was enjoying Melora’s company, and he wasn’t ready to leave. She was one of the most beautiful girls he’d seen in a while, and it seemed like he’d impressed her.

  He was surprised when a voice rang from the doorway. “You’re up?” Melora was there, smiling and watching him.

  “How long was I out?”

  “A few hours, I think,” Melora answered. “You slept longer than me.”

  “Is everyone still downstairs?”

  “Ella and William are keeping watch. Bray went out in the city.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  Melora shrugged. “Hunting, I guess. Doing whatever it is he does.”

  Ivory scooted up and pulled his bow onto his lap. Melora’s eyes roamed over the weapon. He could tell she wanted to ask about it again. “Do you want to try it now?” he asked, grateful Bray wasn’t around.

  Melora nodded, her eyes growing wide. “I’d like that.”

  “We’ll check and make sure no demons are about.” Ivory watched her. “If they aren’t, you can shoot it.”

  “Why can’t we shoot it downstairs?”

  Ivory looked around, as if Ella might be watching. “We’ll have more room outside. And besides, there are some cool buildings nearby I can show you.”

  Melora’s eyes lit up at the offer. She scrambled to her feet. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Ivory followed her. They descended the stairs to the first floor of the ancient building. Ella was talking with William as they inspected one of the broken pedestals. They broke their conversation when they saw Ivory and Melora coming. William ran
up to greet them.

  “How’d you sleep?” William asked.

  “Well, thanks,” Ivory said.

  Melora called to her mother, “We’re going out.”

  Ella’s face remained stoic as she tried to conceal an emotion. “How long will you be?”

  “Not long.”

  Ella didn’t ask for details, though it was clear she wanted to, and Melora didn’t offer any. Reaching the doorway, Ivory and Melora started moving the barricade. William tailed behind, watching.

  “Can I come?” he asked.

  “Not this time, William,” Melora said.

  “Why not?” William asked, his face turning sour.

  In a whisper loud enough that only Ivory and William could hear, Melora said, “I need you to stay here and protect Mom.”

  William frowned. He continued watching them as they moved the last of barricade. When they were through the threshold, he argued, “I’d rather shoot the bow.”

  Melora turned, squeezing his arm. “Another time, William,” she said. “I promise.”

  **

  Melora and Ivory walked several cross streets past the ancient building, leaving Ella and William behind. They traveled far enough they could maintain privacy, but close enough they could assist in case there was trouble.

  “I’m surprised William didn’t chase after us,” Ivory said.

  “Me, too,” Melora said, her eyes roaming back and forth across the fragmented buildings and scattered stones. “He’s very strong-willed.”

  “That must be a family trait.”

  Melora smiled at the compliment. “He’s grown up a lot. We’ve all changed, after what happened in Davenport.”

  Motioning to the building, Ivory said, “You got lucky picking this place to stay.”

  “I wonder what it used to be?” Melora asked.

  “It was a museum.”

  “A museum?” Melora frowned at the unfamiliar word. “What’s that?”