The Survivors (Book 3): Winter

by V. L. Dreyer

  "And that's exactly the same look I used to give my mum when she said that kind of thing," I commented. This time, her glare was directed at me. I held my hands up in self-defence, struggling not to laugh. "Sorry, but it's true. Anyway – Lily, you're with my group. We're all heading south, to find safer territory down near Wellington. I need to go get everyone out of bed. Is there anything I can get you?"

  Lily just stared at me with enormous eyes, as if I'd asked her to jump out of an aeroplane. Jasmine sighed and shook her head. "No, thank you. Me and Mel will take care of her."

  "All right," I agreed. "I'll leave you guys to it, but if you need anything you can call any one of us, okay?"

  The girls just nodded, and turned their attention back to Lily. I took that as my cue to leave. Gavin followed me out of the tent, and trailed after me as I went off to get breakfast cooking. I found Skylar already there, in the process of making rice porridge. I knelt down beside her, and began unpacking our eclectic collection of bowls and cutlery from the plastic packing crate that we carried it in.

  "Morning," she said cheerfully. "You two are up early. Did I miss something exciting?"

  "Lily's awake," I explained, setting the bowls down on the tarp beside me. I flipped the plastic crate upside down, and then put the bowls back on top of it to use it as a table. "She's a bit freaked out, but she's going to be fine."

  "Yeah, just give her time," Skye agreed pleasantly. She grabbed a jar of sugar out of the food stores, and chipped a generous chunk off the solidified granules inside. It went into the pot of porridge, then she looked over at me again. "So, what's the plan now? You do have a plan, right?"

  "I always have a plan," I replied, matching her playful tone. "I'm leaving the wounded and ill here with a couple of guards while the rest of us get our hands dirty and try to clear the path. I estimate that we're only about ten kilometres from the next town, so there can't be that much of this. In the meantime, I want you and Anahera to take the kids down to that stream we saw, and see if you can catch any fish. We're probably going to be stuck here for a couple of days, so we may as well make the most of it."

  I expected her to protest about being left behind, but for once Skylar just accepted my instructions without question.

  "Just promise me that you won't over-exert yourself again," she demanded, fixing me with a dark look. "If I hear about you fainting because you're pushing yourself too hard, I'm going to go up there and drag you back by the ear."

  "Yes, ma'am!" I agreed, sketching a salute. Both she and Gavin laughed. I eased myself back to my feet then, and set about the arduous businesses of waking people that really didn't want to have to get out of bed. I couldn't blame them, but that didn't mean I was going to show any mercy. There was a lot of work to be done, and every day we were on the road was a day closer to winter without permanent shelter and a steady supply of food.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  My estimate, as it turned out, was a bit too generous. It took us eight whole days to clear the road southwards, even with every able-bodied person on the job from dawn 'til dusk. Luckily for us, the surrounding area turned out to be rich with wild game, and we found plenty of fish, eels, and ducks to pad out the supplies we'd brought with us.

  Rather than waste fuel driving the trucks forward a couple of kilometres a day and going through all the effort of having to tear our camp down and set it up again, we left our camp set up on the ridge beside the stream. Each morning, the eight people chosen to work on clearing the road climbed on the bikes in pairs, drove out to the end of the road, and spent the day hacking back brush in the incessant rain. The respite gave Elly and Rebecca time to finish recovering from their colds, and also gave everyone a much-needed break from the tedium of travel.

  Clearing the road was long, filthy, and unpleasant work, so we drew up a roster to try and give everyone some time off every couple of days. Compared to labouring in the mud, watching the camp or helping to collect food was practically a holiday.

  Michael and I were in the road-clearing gang on the ninth day, when we finally broke through to the other side. A shout went up from the pair sent to scout ahead and plan our path, and then a second later Hemi came rushing back with the biggest grin on his face.

  "We're through!" he exclaimed, waving his arms. "Just another ten meters or so, and then it's clear sailing from here on out!" He paused to gulp down an excited breath, and then clarified his meaning. "Well, not totally clear sailing. I mean, it's just a mud track, but there's no plant life growing on it. That's an improvement."

  "Amen to that," I agreed, standing up straight to stretch my back. "Grab one of the bikes and head back to the campsite. Tell them it's time to go. By the time they finish packing up, we'll be just about finished here, I reckon."

  Hemi nodded and raced off, leaving the rest of us to finish clearing the path. It was almost midday by the time the convoy was ready to move, and it took another hour before the trucks caught up to us. Exhausted, sopping wet, and splattered with mud from head to toe, we stripped off our soiled outerwear and tumbled into the seats reserved for us. The people who had been on guard duty back at camp piled out and grabbed the bikes, then we were back on the road again.

  Progress was slow, but steady. The mud was so deep that at times we had to get out and push one of the trucks clear. Each time that happened, I worried that we were about to lose one of our precious vehicles, but by some miracle we managed to keep going. By mid-afternoon, we were all cold, filthy, and miserable, and more than one of us was starting to show symptoms of catching the 'flu.

  "We're going to need to think about stopping somewhere for a couple of days, to let everyone rest up," I commented to Michael as we huddled in the back seat of the Hilux together, with Priya contentedly napping in the front.

  Anahera, in the driver's seat, made a soft sound of agreement. "I think the group is desperate for it. Even you and I are exhausted, though we've both been trying to hide it. Tempers are starting to flare up. Yesterday at lunch, your friend Ryan exchanged heated words with my son. I was genuinely afraid that it was going to come to blows."

  I swore softly beneath my breath. "I'll have a word with them when we make camp. We can't have infighting; it'll tear the group apart."

  "Don't worry, I already handled it," Anahera replied, a faint, amused smile dancing across her lips. "I don't think they'll be doing that again any time soon. Anyway, I believe that we will reach Tokaanu by nightfall. Tokaanu is a lovely town. It would be a good place to stop and rest for a while."

  "You know the area?" I asked, my annoyance melting into curiosity.

  "As a matter of fact, yes," she said. "My grandparents lived there. Tokaanu was my home away from home when I was a child. It's a geothermal area, with rich fishing. We should be quite comfortable for a while."

  "Geothermal?" I sat up straight, suddenly very interested. "You mean, hot springs?"

  "Oh yes," she replied, laughing. "There are many hot springs in the area, along with mud pools, geysers, and some of the most beautiful rainbow trout you'll ever lay eyes on. My people have been going there for centuries to bathe in the springs. I think you'll like it, Sandrine."

  "Oh, I know I'll like it," I answered dryly. "We've been half-arsed bathing in an icy stream for the last week and some. A soak in a hot spring sounds like heaven."

  "Agreed!" Michael commented playfully. "You're starting to smell like Alfred."

  I knew better than to take him seriously, so I just laughed right along with him.

  ***

  We travelled southwards for the rest of the day. The heavy bush on either side of the road made it hard to judge distances. The road wound around overhangs and ledges, up steep hills and down slopes. Every so often, there was a gap in the foliage that revealed a glimpse of rolling green hills in the distance, dotted with flocks of sheep clustered together for protection against the weather.

  Then, suddenly, between one glance and the next, the landscape changed. Gone were the rolling hills, r
eplaced by a broad, sparkling expanse of water that could only be Lake Taupo.

  "We must be getting close," I commented, as much to myself as to anyone else.

  "We are," Anahera agreed. I glanced at her, and saw a troubled look on her face. "I haven't been here since before the plague, but I recognise the lay of the land. There should be a thermal resort along this road a few more kilometres – assuming it's still there."

  Sensing her disquiet, I leaned forward to rest my hand on her shoulder. "We can keep on driving, if you want. I… understand. I'm not sure I could ever go back home. Not now."

  "No, our people need to rest, and this area is perfect for it." Anahera shook her head, and straightened her shoulders. "My grandparents would have wanted us to take advantage of the hospitality that Aotearoa has to offer us, even if they're not here to join us. This is our land now, and we must not be afraid of where the road takes us."

  "Amen to that," I agreed quietly, settling back in my seat. We all fell into silence after that, each of us alone with our thoughts. I felt Michael's hand close over mine, but there was no need for verbal communication. The touch said enough. I leaned against his shoulder, and stared out the window at the bush on the lakeside of the road.

  Eventually, the bush vanished and was replaced by a carpet of thick grass along the edge of the lake. As I watched, a flock of birds exploded out of the reeds and flew up high, startled by the noise of our engines. I watched them until I could no longer see them, then I resumed staring at the lake.

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Michael said softly, his lips right beside my ear. "Sometimes I forget just how lovely our world really is."

  "Yeah," I agreed, snuggling up against him. "When you get too focused on the details, you can miss the magnificence of the whole picture."

  Michael made a noise of agreement and nodded, but he said nothing.

  Priya stirred in the front seat and looked around, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She yawned, then turned and looked at me expectantly. "Mama, why?"

  "Huh?" I shot a confused look at her. "Why what, honey?"

  "Why the trees?" She wrinkled her nose up, and pointed at a the road ahead of us. "They not be green."

  "Oh, those beech trees over there?" I found myself smiling at her inquisitiveness. "The colour is called orange."

  She turned back and stared at me with those enormous eyes, the way only she could. "But why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Why orange!" she exclaimed, making a gesture of frustration. "Trees are green, not orange."

  "Oh." I paused, and glanced back at the trees. "It's because they're deciduous, Priya. That means their leaves die in autumn, and then grow again in spring. Haven't you seen that before?"

  "Oooo." She nodded slowly, making a long, drawn-out sound of understanding. "Yes, have seen, but I never knew why. I wanted to know."

  "That's okay." I smiled at her, trying to reassure her. "You can ask any time you see something you don't understand. Most trees here are evergreen – their leaves don't fall off in winter time. But some are deciduous, like those ones. The leaves will grow back again in spring. If you like, I can ask Doctor Cross to teach you about it in his lesson plan."

  "Yes, I want to learn," she agreed, nodding firmly.

  "And he should have some time," Anahera spoke up suddenly, distracting us, "because we're here."

  "We are?" I sat forward, and looked over her shoulder as she eased the Hilux off the road, into the parking lot of a low, rambling building in surprisingly good condition. Warning bells went off inside my head. "Someone's been living here, Ana. Look – that hole in the roof has been patched up, and the bushes by the front door have been cut back."

  "I'm not surprised," she replied. "It's too prime a location to be completely abandoned. Still, we should check."

  "I want you to stay here," I told her. "Michael, you're with me."

  The pair of us jumped out of the truck with our weapons at the ready. As soon as the rest of the convoy came to a halt behind us, I gestured for Hemi, Tane, and Iorangi to join us. The five of us headed for the front door together.

  Before we could get there, the door opened from within. A tiny old woman shuffled out, ancient and withered with skin like carved wood. She took one look at us, then grunted something inarticulate, made a vague gesture, and vanished back inside.

  I froze, uncertain how to respond or what the gesture was supposed to mean. A few seconds later, the old woman stuck her head outside again, and bellowed at us. "Come on, then! It's bloody cold out here! Get in and close the door."

  Michael and I exchanged glances. There was a slim possibility that it might have been a trap, but it seemed… unlikely, somehow. I shrugged, and decided to just go with it. Shifting my shotgun into a more casual grip, I headed for the front door and followed the old woman inside.

  "And about time," she complained. "Well, this is more people than I've seen in one place for a long time – and led by a woman, to boot." She paused and looked me up and down thoughtfully, but spoke again before I could say anything. "You're that McDermott woman, aren't you?"

  "I am," I answered, surprised that she recognised me. "You heard our broadcast, I take it?"

  "Aye, aye." The woman made another vague gesture, then turned and shuffled over to the reception desk at the back of the lobby. "Gets a wee bit lonely around these parts, so sometimes I like to see if there's anything on the radio. Lo and behold, my favourite talkback show is gone, replaced by your broadcast. How many rooms are you going to need?"

  "Rooms?" I asked in genuine confusion.

  She stopped and gave me the kind of look usually reserved for particularly slow children. "Aye, rooms! This is my establishment, and I'm presuming you want to stay and ride out the storm, so you'll need some place to sleep."

  "Wait, you're actually running this resort?" I glanced around the lobby, and looked back at my friends. None of them had an answer any more than I did.

  "Of course." She heaved a long-suffering sigh, and pulled a thick, dusty guest book out from under the counter. "I don't get many visitors these days, but when I do, I try to be courteous. I expect the same in return. Please provide your own food, and if you make a mess, clean it up. Other than that, you can have the run of the place."

  My brow furrowed in concern. "Ma'am… no offense intended, but you don't know us at all. You're just inviting us into your home? We could be thieves, murderers – anything."

  "Don't call me 'ma'am', young lady." She gave me another dark look. "You may call me Mrs Swanson, Netty, or Nana, but not 'ma'am'. I'm not running a brothel, here."

  "Sorry," I apologised automatically, cringing in spite of myself. I just couldn't help it. The woman had to be in her late eighties or early nineties, but she carried herself with an air of total confidence. "But my question does still stand, Mrs Swanson."

  "I'm too damn old to be afraid of anything these days," Netty answered dryly. "I've been running this place for the better part of thirteen years, and no one's lifted a finger against me yet. I doubt you plan to be the first."

  "Well, no," I agreed, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "But… what about the gangs? Haven't they come after you, if you're here all by yourself?"

  "Why would they?" Netty shrugged, picked up a pen, and started slowly writing my name in her guest book with hands that trembled with age and infirmity. "I'm everyone's nana. They know that if they ever hurt me, they'll unleash the wrath of every other person in the area on their stupid heads. Now, it was Sandrine, wasn't it? Spell that for me, dear?"

  I did as I was told, and spelled out my first name for her. Once that was done, I took a breath and shook my head slowly. "I can hardly believe that you've been on your own here for this long, without anyone taking a shot at you. But… you're right. Now that I've met you, if anyone tried to hurt you I'd kick their backsides all the way to Australia and back."

  "Exactly." Netty gave me an uneven smile, and laid one frail finger beside her nose. "Now, the rules of my establis
hment are simple. You may use any of the facilities, but I expect you to respect my space. Room 25 is mine, so stay out of it. Please attend to your own linens and cooking – I'm your landlord, not your maid. If you want access to consumables, then you're going to need to trade for them."

  "Of course," I agreed immediately. "It's been a hard trip from the north, so we were planning to stay for about a week. We were going to send people out to fish and catch game birds, and I'm happy to give some of our catch to you if you'll let us stay that long… and if we can use the hot pools."

  "The hot pools are open to everyone, and the same rules apply," Netty replied. "Except, there's one more: anyone that pees in the pool has to drink from the pool."

  "Ew. So noted." I wrinkled my nose up, and shook my head. "Is there anywhere dry that we can store our vehicles in the mean time?"

  "Aye, there's a big storage shed in the field next door. I'll find the keys." Netty turned to leave, but I stepped forward to stop her.

  "Wait," I said quietly, uncomfortable with what I needed to ask but it felt necessary. "Before we agree to stay, we need to check this place is safe. Please, don't be offended, but… we've all seen some horror stories in our time, and we've got small children with us. I can't do anything that puts them at risk. I hope you understand."

  "Oh, fine." Netty heaved a long-suffering sigh, and beckoned for me to follow her. "Come along, then. But, your boys can't come into my room! It wouldn't be proper. They'll have to wait outside."

  "Agreed." I gave her a smile, and set off after her with my 'boys' hot on my heels.

  Inspecting the entire building took most of the time we had left before sunset, but I felt better for it. I'd seen enough horror movies to know that if someone says to keep out of a particular room, it's usually the first place you want to check in case it's full of bodies. Netty's wasn't; she was just old-fashioned, and uncomfortable with the idea of men other than her husband seeing where she slept.

  As we spent time together, I grew to like her more and more. She had a harsh, no-nonsense way about her, but underneath that I sensed a kind spirit. She guided us through the passages, and let me spend as much time as I needed inspecting things to ensure my charges would be safe. Eventually, we found ourselves at the rear of the building, where a heavy, fire-stop door blocked the way.