The Survivors (Book 1): Summer

by Dreyer, V. L.

"No! It’s none of your business." That was Michael’s voice, and he sounded… peculiar. I rounded a corner and found myself confronted with a bizarre scene. Skye had Michael cornered and was poking him threateningly in the chest with her index finger. Michael looked confused and a little bit afraid.

  Despite being five inches shorter than me, with a tiny frame that made her belly look like a bowling ball by comparison, my sister was kind of terrifying when she was pissed off.

  "You will tell me." Skye’s voice was low and threatening. "Or else I’ll have to—"

  "Look, there she is; ask her yourself!" Michael pointed at me, distracting Skylar’s attention. The second her attention wavered from him, he was off like a shot, fleeing down a corridor away from us.

  "Sandy!" Skye was on me in a heartbeat, and grabbed me by the shoulders, then she was shaking me until I was afraid my head would pop off. "Where have you been? I was worried sick."

  "Jesus, Skye." I squeaked and wriggled out of her grasp, then backed away, holding up my hands defensively. "I just slept in."

  "But your door was locked so I thought you were out, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. I couldn’t find Michael until a minute ago, either, and the car was still in the garage, and… and… and…"

  This time, I grabbed her and gave her a solid shake.

  "Calm. The fuck. Down," I told her in no uncertain terms. She bristled, but I didn’t give her a chance to protest. "I was just in bed. I had a late night and I was tired. I locked the door because I don’t like people barging in on me unannounced."

  Yes, that was the reason. Not because I had a half-naked man in my bed. No, not at all.

  "You could have just knocked if you were so worried." I added. "I probably would have been annoyed at being woken up, but at least you would have had an answer."

  "Knocked?" Skylar looked confused.

  "You know, tapped on the door until I responded?" Was she being serious right now?

  "Oh… I always thought that was just something the doctor yelled at me when I opened his door."

  I felt the overwhelming urge to facepalm. Oh, right. She was eight when the world ended. Eight-year-olds don’t knock. "You haven’t been living here much longer than I have, have you?"

  "About six months." She shrugged, then suddenly seemed to remember that she was at my throat for a reason. "Wait, but if you were asleep, then where was Michael? I looked all over for him. He wouldn’t go outside alone…"

  She trailed off as the pieces began to fall into place, staring at me.

  I avoided eye-contact, trying very hard to prevent myself from turning red again and giving us away.

  "Sandy." Skye’s eyes narrowed. "Look at me."

  I looked anywhere but at her, fighting the urge to flee that rose in my chest.

  "Look at me!"

  I cleared my throat and pretended to be fascinated by my feet, while silently plotting my escape route.

  "Sandrine McDermott, did you sleep with Michael?"

  Oh crap, she was on to us. Time to go.

  "Hey, get back here!" She squealed, as I dashed off as fast as I could go.

  Go, go, race of the cripples.

  Luckily for me, I was quicker in spite of my injury, what with her belly being so swollen that she could barely waddle at a fast pace. When I was out of her line of sight, I ducked into one of the many rooms in the underground maze, and dropped down behind an old desk to hide. I heard her footsteps patter past, and then sighed softly in relief.

  "Your sister scares me."

  I almost jumped out of my skin; I hadn’t noticed that Michael was hunkered down close by until he spoke. He looked back at me with the most embarrassed expression I’d ever seen.

  "Hey, you abandoned me." I gave him a sad-puppy look, though in truth I didn’t really blame him. "I’m so mad at you."

  He shrugged helplessly. "She was accusing me of everything from eating you to stealing your soul. I had no choice. At least she won’t kill you. Me, I’m not so sure about."

  "Yeah, you’re probably right. Okay, I forgive you."

  Michael helped me up, his hand lingering in mine even after we were back on our feet. He turned my hand over, as though studying it, then brought it to his lips and kissed the tips of my fingers. "Good. I’m not sure I could bear you being angry with me."

  I smiled at him and stepped in close, to press a soft kiss against his cheek. "Yeah, me either. Let’s go get some work done before Skylar finds us."

  Hand in hand, we left our hiding spot and went off about our business.

  Chapter Twenty

  Michael and I snuck around like thieves for two whole days while our group prepared to leave its home, stealing what moments of privacy that we could. Skylar became something of a menace and demanded the latest gossip at every turn, but eventually she began to grudgingly accept that neither of us were interested in sharing the details of our tryst.

  During the process of stripping the bunker of everything that we could carry, I came across a set of walkie-talkies. They were good, solid things, heavyweight with rechargeable batteries. When I showed them to Michael, he told me that they were police issue. He recalled that he had found them in the bunker when he first moved in, and put them into storage in case he needed them some day.

  We need them now, I reasoned and put them on their chargers. The next morning, they crackled to life chirpily and a few minutes later I had them working.

  As we were preparing for our departure, I assigned one to each person, and explained to each of them how to use it.

  "If anything goes wrong, if we get separated, if you get lost or attacked, call the rest of us," I included in my instructions. "Don’t hesitate. Even if you see something but you’re not a hundred per cent sure what it is, call us. It’s better safe than sorry."

  Yes, I blamed myself for Ryan’s injuries, though I hadn’t admitted it to anyone. I kept my shame a secret, bottled up deep inside where the only person that it could hurt was me.

  But it was a lesson learned, a lesson that I prayed none of us would ever have to repeat.

  As the sun rose on the third day, the six of us gathered one last time in the parking garage. The trucks were all packed and our scant personal possessions were crammed in amongst the supplies. We looked around one last time, making sure everything was switched off and locked, and said goodbye to the place that had been our home. For me, it was only ten days; for Michael, it was a third of his lifetime.

  For Maddy, it was the only home she’d ever known. Despite that, she was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement, ready for an adventure. The rest of us were quiet, determined and intense, ready to fight our way free if we had to.

  Michael issued orders and assigned each of us to a vehicle. Madeline and Skylar were placed in the minivan in the middle of the convoy so that we could protect them easily. They were the two most vulnerable members of our group, and we wanted to have them somewhere safe. I half-expected an outburst of rebellion from Skylar, but it never came. She was simply delighted by the fact that she was going to be allowed to drive.

  Ryan and the doctor would bring up the rear in the bulky prisoner transport, with the doctor behind the wheel. Despite his injuries, Ryan was alert and capable with the hand not swathed in bandages. Although he couldn’t drive in his condition, he could keep a lookout and fight if he needed to.

  With my blessing, Michael armed him with my handgun and cleared a space in the back of the van for him to sit in, so that he could watch the road behind us for danger. Although he looked disappointed at being separated from Skylar, Ryan acquiesced without protest on the understanding that he was still protecting her.

  Michael and I would lead the convoy in the Hilux, as both the most capable fighters in the group and the only ones that knew where we were going. My foot was almost healed but we didn’t want to risk it, so Michael took the wheel.

  Before he climbed in, he handed me his shotgun. He’d already briefed me on how to use the weapon, how to reload the
shells and how to fix it if it misfired, so I felt confident that I could defend us if necessary. Ryan and I flanked the roller door while everyone else went to their places, checking that our weapons were loaded and the safeties were off.

  The garage reverberated with the sound of three engines starting at once. I swelled with pride that not one of them stumbled and died. A job well done. No time to pat myself on the back, though. It was time to go.

  I looked at Ryan and he nodded to indicate that he was ready. With the shotgun tucked in the crook of my arm, I reached over and swiped the key card against the lock. The door began to rise, with a rusty clanking that felt loud enough to wake the dead – or at least alert them to our presence.

  Side by side, Ryan and I approached the opening door, our weapons aimed at the entrance. Bright morning sunlight crept through the gap as the door rose, sneaking across the floor to attack our feet before it gradually illuminated the rest of our bodies. It was just after dawn and the sun was already intense. A wall of heat washed over us in stark contrast to the cool darkness that we were used to.

  It was time.

  I led the way, my footing cautious but the limp was almost gone. In a militaristic crouch-walk, I stalked the entrance at an angle, clearing the right side before I rounded to the left. Just as we had practiced, Ryan covered my back as I stared about for any sign that we had been detected. After ten seconds, he moved up to join me, back to back, and added his eyes to my search grid.

  Nothing moved. With fluid footsteps despite our injuries, we slid further out into the daylight, far enough to check every bush, every crevice that might hold some horrible dead thing. The only corpses we saw were the kind that didn’t move.

  The door whined in protest as its tiny automated brain decided that it was time to close. I returned to the entrance to swipe my card again, and to give my signal to the others waiting in the garage below.

  Michael led the charge, surging up the ramp with a heavy foot on the accelerator, and kicked up a breeze that stirred my hair as he passed. He cleared the entrance in a few seconds, and came to a halt a short way down the street to wait for the rest of the convoy to assemble.

  I gestured to Skylar to come next and she did – eventually. It took her a few tries, and in the process she somehow managed to bunny-hop an automatic engine. It took all of my willpower to fight down the urge to laugh. Instead, I gave her the thumbs-up sign in encouragement and waved her on out the door.

  The doctor came last in the prisoner transport, which groaned and struggled to clear the ramp with its heavy burden. For a moment I worried it wouldn’t make it, but then it was over the lip and out into the street beyond.

  I cast one last glance around the garage as the door rumbled closed again, and silently said goodbye to all the dead cars that I would never have a chance to bring back to life. Then the door shut with a heavy clank, and it was all gone to me. There was no need to lock the door; it was keyed to the card in my hand. Without the card, no one was getting in.

  Although we were leaving, we agreed that everything we left behind was still ours. We left it all stored safely, on the off chance we might have to come back for something.

  All of us hoped that we would never have to.

  I returned to Ryan, who was watching for trouble while the rest of us moved out, and gestured to him that it was time to move. He nodded and fell in beside me as I escorted him to the rear of the prisoner transport, and there I helped him up into the nook we'd left clear for him.

  "Don’t forget to lock the door from the inside," I reminded him as he settled in. He gave me a lopsided smile in return.

  "I remember, sis."

  Sis? When did that happen?

  "Pft, you don’t get to call me that until you marry my sister." I snorted and gave him a playful smile.

  "Working on it." He grinned brightly, then slammed the door and locked it securely.

  I was the last one left exposed, and I did not like that feeling. With great effort, I fought down a spurt of panic and hurried to the passenger door of the Hilux. A second later, I was inside and pulled the door closed behind me. The locks clunked as Michael engaged them, and only then did I feel secure.

  I pulled on my seatbelt, then grabbed my walkie-talkie off my belt. "Everyone lock up tight. Don’t open for anyone you don’t know."

  What I got in return was a series of silly answers and fake military jargon. Even Michael picked up his radio and added a "Roger-roger, Cap’n!" in a nasally falsetto, garnering laughter from the others.

  I rolled my eyes and clicked the microphone off as we pulled away from the bunker, and left our home behind us.

  ***

  The sun rose higher in the sky, and brought with it the stinging heat of midsummer. The trip was torturously slow considering the short distance we needed to travel. The roads were in even worse condition than I remembered, and the heavier vehicles struggled in many places. Our Hilux had no issues with the terrain, and its big tyres carried us easily over the roughest ground – but the others were not so lucky.

  It took us almost an hour to reach the southern edge of the city. I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally cleared the outskirts and found the shattered concrete ribbon of the highway that wound its way out through the flat, green pasturelands towards our destination.

  I was just beginning to relax when the radio crackled to life, and nearly gave me a heart attack.

  "I see something, I see something!" Maddy was screaming and sounded terrified. "I see something moving!"

  There was a weird, muffled sound, and then Skylar’s voice came on. "Please disregard that emergency broadcast. Madeline has just seen her first cow."

  "What’s a ‘cow’?" We heard the little girl’s voice in the background. Skylar heaved a long-suffering sigh, and then the line crackled off.

  Michael and I glanced at one another, and then burst out laughing.

  It felt so good to have someone to share a laugh with.

  ***

  A slender tree had fallen across the road since the last time I'd come this way, effectively blocking the path. It wasn’t a big one, but there was no way the vans would get past it unless we found some way to move it.

  The Hilux rolled to a stop, and Michael grabbed his radio. "We’ve got a blockage. Everyone stay where you are."

  The radio crackled to life.

  "What kind of blockage?" I couldn’t quite tell which one of the others it was.

  "Just a tree down, nothing dangerous." He unfastened his seatbelt, then clipped the radio onto his belt and climbed out. I followed him, shotgun at the ready as I scanned the horizon.

  "Calm down, Sandy. It’s only a tree." Michael gave me one of his quirky smiles, but I was not convinced.

  "Not necessarily." I shook my head. "I’ve seen raiders use something very similar as a trap for travellers. You’ll forgive me, but there is a reason I’m this paranoid."

  He had nothing to say to that, and just silently acknowledged that he was out of his element. With my weapon held at the ready, I soft-stepped towards the tree, and angled around the fallen trunk until I could see the base. The sure way to know if it was a trap or natural deadfall was to figure out whether the trunk had been cut.

  The stump was shattered, rotten, eaten through by insects. I immediately relaxed and called over my shoulder to Michael. "It’s okay, it’s just deadfall. It’s probably not a trap, but keep your guard up anyway."

  "Probably not a trap?"

  "You never know." I shrugged. "People can be opportunistic."

  "This is a very depressing conversation." Michael sighed as he drew up behind me, to help me examine the tree for the best way to get rid of it.

  "Welcome to the world outside your nice, safe bunker, sweetheart. It’s depressing out here." I answered dryly, then prodded at the deadfall with my boot. "It’s rotten through and all soggy. We should be able to cut it easily enough and move it in sections."

  "What about towing it out of the way with the four-wh
eel drive?" He looked at me for guidance, but I shook my head.

  "Maybe in chunks, but if we try to do that with the whole trunk it’ll just crack. Look." I shoved at the trunk with my foot, and showed him how the bark was spongy and moved beneath my foot. Squish, squish, squish.

  "Alright. I’ll go find an axe." He deferred to my judgement without a word of complaint, and headed off towards the rear of the convoy.

  I pulled my own radio off my belt and clicked it on. "Guys, Michael’s coming to get the axe. Does anyone know where we put it?"

  Crackle.

  "I’ve got it," Ryan said.

  "You hear that?" I called after Michael, and he waved to acknowledge that he had.

  A few minutes later, he was back with the doctor and Ryan beside him. Between the three of them, they made short work of the rotten tree while I patrolled the perimeter of our little caravan on the lookout for trouble. I stopped to chat briefly with my sister and Madeline while they waited, but I didn’t linger for long.

  As I was returning to the front of the queue to check on the guys, something in the distance caught my attention. I stretched up as tall as I could and I shielded my eyes against the sun. Something was moving, and moving with far more vigour than a cow or a sheep.

  "Guys." The low, urgent tone of my voice got their attention immediately. "Did any of you bring binoculars?"

  Without a word, Michael drew a pair out of his vest and handed them to me. They were small with a low magnification, but they were enough. I focused on the movement in the distance, and then swore softly.

  "We have a pig incoming," I told them softly, keeping my voice low and calm to disguise my concern. Then, something else caught my eye, another flash of movement. Smaller and quicker – and running for its life. My whole body tensed. "It’s chasing a person!"

  "A living person?" Michael strained to see what I was seeing, which was a solitary survivor fleeing from 350 kilograms of rampaging, infected pork.

  "Definitely alive – for the moment."

  The others looked at me for guidance, but I wasn’t sure what to tell them. If I were on my own, I wouldn’t have stood a chance so I would have had to leave that survivor to his fate.