The Survivors Book IV: Spring

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The Survivors Book IV: Spring Page 2

by V. L. Dreyer


  "It's hard not to, when our other option is extinction. Safe travels, McDermott." Sergeant Bryce snapped a salute, then she turned her mount around and headed back to Waiouru.

  I watched until she was out of sight, then I glanced at Skye. "Looks like we're on our own now."

  "And the rain's coming back," she said, gesturing towards the horizon. A moment later I felt an icy wind strike me, and smelt the tell-tale scent of. I sighed heavily and took my radio out of its pocket.

  "Button up, everyone," I advised. "Rain's going to be here any minute."

  Before I'd finished speaking, I felt the first droplet land on my cheek. I hastily tucked my radio away, pulled my hood over my head, and buttoned my coat all the way up to my chin.

  A moment later, the deluge began.

  ***

  We were all cold, wet, and miserable by the time we decided to stop for the night. We found a large farmhouse right beside the road, but it still took us until after sunset to clear the area, bed the horses down in the barn, and set the night watch. I finished grooming Boudicca by torchlight, then ducked out into the turbulent weather to make my way back to the main house.

  Skylar was waiting for me at the door. She waved when she saw me, but as soon as I stepped into range of her nose, she screwed her face up and gave me a dark look. "Gross. You smell like wet horse."

  "Thanks, sis. You sure know how to make a girl feel pretty," I replied. She stepped back and let me across the threshold; the moment I was inside I realised that something was amiss. "No power?"

  "No power," she said with a nod. "We could set up the generator, but that means using fuel."

  "Let's try to avoid that, if we can," I answered. "Do we at least have a fireplace?"

  "Yeah." She nodded again, pointing through a nearby doorway. "And there's a shed with plenty of firewood up the back of the house. Plumbing seems to be working, though. That's something."

  "Better than nothing," I said with a shrug. "How are we for bedding?"

  "There are a few beds upstairs, but I wouldn't recommend it," she replied, wrinkling up her nose. "It's pretty gross up there. Doc's decided he wants to risk it, but I think we're better off sleeping in the living room. Kitchen's over there, if you want to grab some grub."

  "Yeah, I probably should," I answered. I caught myself with a hand half-raised to rub my belly, and pretended to scratch my elbow instead. Mercifully, Skye didn't seem to notice my lapse; her expression was distracted, and I could practically see her organizing what needed to be done in her head.

  Suddenly, her eyes snapped back into focus, and she looked at me. "Oh, one more thing. Doc wants to talk to you, when you have a second. He's already gone upstairs."

  "Why am I not surprised? He never did like getting cosy with us," I said, chuckling. I patted her shoulder, then left her side and headed up the stairs.

  I found Doctor Cross inside the first bedroom I came across, in a consultation with Michael. Michael was sitting on the edge of the bed with his foot up in Doc's lap. The room was lit only by a small gas lantern, but it was enough for Doc to see what he was doing.

  "This seems to be healing nicely," Doc was saying as I walked up to the doorway, touching the bones in Michael's ankle. "It's definitely just a sprain. That's good news."

  "Yeah, it's a little tender, but so long as I'm careful with my footing it's fine," Michael replied. He glanced up, and gave me a smile and a nod. "Hey, Sandy."

  "Hey yourself," I returned the greeting, leaning against the doorframe with my arms folded across my chest. "So he's not dying, then? I'm too young to be a widow."

  "Well, if you want to get philosophical, everyone is dying," Doc answered dryly. He lowered Michael's foot back to the floor and leaned back in his chair. "You're fine, Constable. How are the painkillers working?"

  "Well enough that I've got nothing to complain about," Michael replied with his usual impish grin. He eased himself up to his feet and dusted his hands off on his jeans, then came over to stand in front of me. At first I thought he was going to lean down and kiss me, but he stopped just short, close enough that I could feel his warmth without actually touching me. His closeness sent a shiver right through me, and brought a flush to my cheeks. He always knew just the right buttons to push to make my heart race. "We've got duty tonight. You happy with the first shift?"

  "Of course," I replied, reaching up to touch his chest so that my fingers could trace the line of his wedding band hidden beneath the cloth. Even after we'd formalized our marriage, we both still chose to wear our rings on necklaces around our throats rather than on our fingers. It felt like that would keep them safer while we were slogging through mud, rain, and everything else nature had to throw at us.

  Michael glanced down at my hand, then looked back at me and gave me one of the subtle half-smiles that he saved just for me. "Good. I need to go organise the rest of the roster. See you downstairs afterwards?"

  "Definitely," I agreed. "I'll most likely be in the kitchen."

  "Then I'll see you there," he said. His hand touched my shoulder and slid down the length of my arm all the way to my hand, then he lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss against my knuckles. A second later, he brushed past me and vanished into the hall.

  Doctor Cross cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, that was… interesting. Please close the door, Ms McDermott."

  I did as I was told, then I went over to sit on the edge of the bed in the spot Michael had vacated a minute earlier.

  "You got the test results, didn't you?" I asked, keeping my voice low enough that it was unlikely we'd be overheard. "Am I pregnant or not?"

  Doc shot a glance at the closed door, then picked himself up and came over to sit on the bed beside me. "Yes, you are. There's no doubting it. I tested it three times, and each time was positive." He paused for a moment, and gave me a long, considering look. "You seem unusually calm about this, given that you nearly had a nervous breakdown on me a few days ago."

  "I've had time to think," I admitted, absently rubbing my belly. This time, I didn't try to hide the gesture. There was no point, since he already knew. "I'm scared, Doc. I'm really, really scared. But this is also kind of what I wanted, isn't it? I mean, I didn't want to single-handedly repopulate the earth, but I want to see us flourish again. That's why I'm fighting so hard for us to make it to the south. For the kids. For the next generation. This just… makes it more personal."

  "And more urgent," the doctor finished for me. I glanced at him and nodded.

  "Michael and I haven't exactly had a lot of alone-time since the fire," I said. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought back, running over the figures in my mind. "I can pinpoint nearly to the day when I would have conceived. It would have been around the full moon before last. It's almost new moon again now, so I'd be about six weeks along."

  "Then we should have another couple of months before you start to show," Doc said. I opened my eyes and found him studying me with a critical eye. "Possibly less, but it's hard to tell at this early stage. Most first-time mothers don't start to show until around twelve to sixteen weeks in, because it takes some time for your uterus to stretch enough to distend your abdomen. You're also quite tall, and that may help conceal it for longer."

  "May, but we can't guarantee anything," I said with a sigh. "We're just going to have to play things by ear, and hope that we're worrying for nothing. I'm also going to have to be careful about what I eat and drink, but there isn’t really anything we can do about the risk of the baby being born infected, is there?"

  "My understanding is that a child can't be born infected," he said, frowning. "I've heard the rumours about Elira's daughter, but we can't jump to conclusions. Stillbirths happen frequently in nature, particularly when twins are involved. The baby should share your immunity until it's weaned, just like it will share your immunity to everything else that you've acquired antibodies to fight against. After that… I don't know. All we can really do is pray."

  I raised a brow and shot him a cur
ious look. "I thought you were a man of science, not religion?"

  "I am, but sometimes I wonder." He shrugged sheepishly and glanced away. "I've got a granddaughter who can apparently read minds and see into the future. I think that would be enough to make anyone wonder."

  "True." I stood up slowly and stretched my back. "Ugh, this horse-riding thing is hard. My back is killing me. Can you recommend anything to keep me from stiffening up like this?"

  "Not really," he admitted. "It'll just take some time for your body to get used to it, I think. I can give you some painkillers, if you like?"

  "Nah, it's not that bad," I replied, shaking my head. "I'll just ask Michael to give me a back rub. Thanks, though."

  "Quite all right, Ms McDermott," he said. "I'll check my stores tomorrow, and see if I have any pre-natal vitamins that might give you and the baby a fighting chance."

  "Thanks, Doc," I replied. I smiled at him, and touched my forehead in a rough approximation of a salute. "Have a good night."

  The doctor returned the sentiment and waved me out of his room, then closed the door behind me. I fished my torch out of my pocket, and used its light to guide my way back down the stairs, into the kitchen. There, I found Anahera and Ryan washing the dishes by the light of another lantern, and talking softly to one another. I switched my torch off again to conserve its batteries, and went over to pick up a bowl of lukewarm stew that was sitting on the bench.

  Anahera glanced over and gave me a stern look. "Why are you always the last one to come and have dinner? Is my cooking really that bad?"

  "Your cooking is great," I hurriedly reassured her. "I just have an endless list of things to do, and never enough hours in the day. You know how it is."

  "Indeed." Her frown melted into a smile, and she held a spoon out to me. I took it gratefully and settled on a stool to eat my fill. While I was eating, she turned her attention back to Ryan. "You worry far too much, my friend. Just relax and let the cards fall where they may."

  "I know. It's just… it's hard," Ryan admitted, his gaze focused on the dish that he was drying. Once he was satisfied with it, he set it down and took another one out of the tray. "She's already moved on. I don't want to... you know, get in the way."

  "Skylar," Anahera said to me by way of explanation, then she resumed speaking to Ryan. "I cannot presume to guess how she feels, but there's no reason for you to give up on her completely. Just try to show her that you've learned from what happened and that you really care about her. She may forgive you."

  "No one makes decisions for Skye except Skye," I added, using the very same words as when I’d spoken to Hemi a few weeks earlier. "If you think you still deserve her affections, then show her that. One rule, though."

  They both glanced at me, brows raised.

  I grinned and waved my spoon at Ryan in mock threat. "No more fighting! Understood?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Ryan answered, looking shamefaced.

  Anahera just laughed and shook her head. "And on that note, I'm going to get ready for bed. All these affairs of the heart are too much for my poor, elderly psyche."

  "You're only, like, ten years older than me," I pointed out.

  "More like fifteen," she replied, flicking her sponge into the sink. The dishwater gurgled as it drained away, and then she rinsed her hands under the tap. "Not that it matters, I suppose. What is age but a number?"

  "Exactly my point," I said, digging around in my stew for a particularly juicy-looking piece of fish. "You're a MILF and you know it, lady. You're just fishing for compliments."

  Ryan froze with a dish half-dried in his hand and turned bright red. Anahera hid a chuckle behind a cough.

  "Perhaps I am," she replied, amusement dancing across her tattooed lips. "Everyone likes to feel attractive. Goodnight, dear."

  "Goodnight," I said simply. I scooped up the morsel I'd been hunting for and popped it into my mouth, enjoying the burst of flavour that came along with it. By the time I'd swallowed it, Anahera was gone, leaving me alone with a beet-red red-head. I looked at him, and raised a brow. "You all right, Ry?"

  "Fine!" he replied, a little too enthusiastically. A second later, his shoulders slumped, and he shot a guilty look at me. "I just… never thought of her like that before. I'm not sure how to feel."

  "She's not your mum, so you can feel any way you like," I replied with a shrug. "So, what was that I walked in on? You thinking of making another play for Skye's heart?"

  "Maybe," he said. He turned away from me on the pretence of packing the dishes away, but I sensed that it was more to hide his face from me than any real desire to work. "I still love her. It's hard to see her with Hemi."

  "You do realise there's no reason she has to pick just one of you, right?" I said, shovelling another spoonful into my mouth.

  Ryan turned back and looked at me quizzically. "What do you mean?"

  I swallowed, and gave him a grin. "This is our world, Ry. Our rules. There are a lot more men than women in this group, and I suspect that's going to be fairly standard across the board. For this generation at least, polygamous relationships may be a good idea."

  "Polygamous?" he echoed, his eyes widening. "You mean… Skye could be with both me and Hemi? At the same time?"

  "Not in bed, obviously," I said dryly, then paused to re-evaluate. "Well, unless you guys swing that way. None of my business. But, yeah, why not? Rebecca's hooking up with Tane and Iorangi, and it seems to be working out well for the three of them."

  "I don't know," he admitted, looking uncertain. "I mean, maybe. I'd have to think about it. And talk to them, of course."

  "Of course," I replied, shrugging again. "Your rules, kid. At least it's an option, and that way no one has to get hurt. If I remember correctly, you liked Hemi before all this happened."

  "Yeah," he agreed. "I mean, I didn't know him very well, but he seemed like a cool guy."

  "And do you really want to fight with a potential friend over a girl?" I said in the driest tone I could muster. That made him smile.

  "I don't want to fight with anyone, really," he replied, shaking his head.

  "Then don't," I said simply. I rose to my feet and went over to wash my bowl in the sink, then handed it to him to dry.

  He took it, stared at it for a second, then smiled again and nodded. "Good advice, as usual. Thanks, Sandy."

  "Any time, mate." I patted him on the shoulder, then dismissed myself and went off in search of Skylar.

  I found her in the living room, supervising the distribution of spare blankets. We were well into our sixth week of travel, and all of us had acquired a set of blankets that we’d come to think of as our own, but with the weather getting colder and colder it was a constant struggle to stay warm. I watched for a moment, until she noticed me standing there.

  "Oh, hey," she said by way of greeting. "Can you do me a favour?"

  "Sure," I replied. "How can I help?"

  "We're running a bit late tonight," she said, tossing a rolled-up blanket to one of the others. "Can you go round up the girls, please? I sent them upstairs to look for extra bedding, but they haven't come back down."

  "I'm on it," I said, saluting her playfully. She was so busy she barely even had a chance to acknowledge me. I left her to it and headed back upstairs, flicking my torch on to guide the way. The light under Doc's door had already been extinguished, telling me that he'd decided to have an early night. I passed his door and moved deeper into the building.

  The sound of whispering voices and muffled laughs drew me to a half-open doorway, lit by the faint glow of an oil lamp. I quietly pushed the door open and peeked inside: Melody, Priya, Maddy, and the twins stood huddled around an ornate vanity, playing with something I couldn't quite see. I took another step closer, straining to get a better look at what they were doing. A loose board creaked under my foot, and suddenly the girls all spun to look at me, wide-eyed, guilty-looking, their faces covered in a rainbow of multi-coloured cosmetics.

  "Oh, you guys," I groaned, covering my e
yes with one hand. "What have you done?"

  "Well, we found this stuff," Melody said, straightening her shoulders and flicking her short, ash-blonde hair back out of her face. "So we decided to have some fun while we were up here."

  "That 'stuff' will ruin your skin," I said, moving over to the vanity. I picked up one of the pallets, closed it, and squinted at the faded label. "This is twelve years old, guys. Twelve. And it’s used. It's probably full of someone else’s eye-gunk, and will give you a nasty infection. Go wash it off before you get sick or something."

  A chorus of groans answered me, followed by complaints, whining, and then laughter as they filed out of the room and down the hall, taking the lamp with them. I heard running water, then a squeal, some splashing, and more laughter. The sound of it made me smile; there was a growing sense of camaraderie amongst the group, as people discovered similar interests with one another and friendships began to blossom. Melody had swiftly expanded her little gang to include both Priya and Madeline, while Solomon had drifted out of it and gravitated towards Matt and his younger brothers. He still never said anything, but that didn't seem to impede their budding friendship at all.

  I left the girls to their own devices and set about the task that Skylar had originally given them. Gripping my torch between my teeth, I yanked the duvet and blankets off the bed near the vanity, and dragged the bedclothes out into the hallway. A musty scent came up from them and tickled my nose, but I ignored it; I didn't have to sleep in there, or even be in the room long enough to worry about mould in the walls or the bedding. We just needed a little extra warmth to ride out the chilly night.

  The house was a large one, with four bedrooms in addition to the one that Doc had claimed. By the time the girls had finished disinfecting their faces, I'd stripped all the mattresses and created a fairly sizeable pile of bedding that needed to be carted downstairs. I assigned the twins to carry stuff downstairs, and put the other girls to work searching the rooms for useful objects. Melody and Priya went one way, while Madeline padded along after me.

 

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