The Survivors Book IV: Spring

by V. L. Dreyer

  The horse snorted at me and whickered again. I'd swiftly come to realise that she was far more intelligent than I'd initially given her credit for, and while she might not understand my exact words she certainly understood the tone. She stood patiently while I put on her bridle and other gear, and held still as I vaulted up into the saddle. When I was ready, I gently nudged her sides with my heels and guided her out into the brisk winter air.

  The rain had finally stopped and the snow had melted a little overnight, leaving just a few inches of slippery ice-crust upon the ground. Boudicca had been born and bred in the Central Plateau highlands, though; she was far more sure-footed and agile on the ice than I could ever hope to be. I checked in with the rest of the group and discovered that they had the packing process under control, so I opted to take on the role of scout instead.

  I crossed the township of Taihape at a comfortable trot. Just as I was approaching the southern edge of town, a lone figure huddled up in a ragged cardigan stepped out from between two buildings. She waved hesitantly, her fear obvious even from a distance. I reined in near her and gave her a curious look; even with her hood up, I recognised her as Isabelle, Bobby's mother.

  "Hello again," I greeted, glancing around to make sure that the angry teenager wasn't sneaking up on me.

  "Hello," she said warily, hugging herself against the cold. "I… I'm sorry, but… have you seen my son?"

  I glanced back at her, uncertain how to respond. "Not recently. I last saw him five days ago, around midday. He approached me intent on a fight, but I talked him down. I haven't seen him since then."

  "Oh." The woman's face fell, and she lowered her gaze to the frosty sidewalk. "I haven't seen him in days, either. I… I don't know what to do. I thought that he'd get sick of being alone and come back, but he hasn't."

  Sympathy swelled in my breast in response to the painful emotion I could see in her eyes, and hear in her voice. I eased myself out of the saddle and went over to stand in front of her.

  "Your name is Isabelle, isn’t it?" I asked, holding up my hands to show her that I meant her no harm.

  "Yes," she confirmed. "Isabelle Wright. I'm sorry, I know you probably don't care, but… I don't know who else to turn to. I've never been alone before. Never."

  "It's okay," I said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She flinched when I touched her, but swiftly seemed to realise that I was only trying to offer her a little bit of comfort through physical contact. "I'm not holding you to blame for anything Henry did, or Bobby threatened to do. I know that wasn't your fault – and I know how terrifying it is to suddenly find yourself alone."

  Isabelle nodded and looked down at her feet, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm so scared. Even after the plague, there was always Bobby. I just did what I had to do to keep him safe. I don't know how to be alone."

  "I know," I said. "God, I know better than most. I was alone for the better part of ten years. It's awful. No one should have to go through that." I paused to take a deep breath, swallowing the tears that were suddenly threatening me as well. "We're leaving today, Isabelle. In the next couple of hours. You're welcome to come with us, if you want."

  Isabelle glanced up at me, her face showing a mixture of warring emotions that I couldn't quite decipher. "You'd take me in? Even knowing what my son wants to do to you?"

  "I'm not going to hold you responsible for something you had no control over," I replied. "I know that you were only trying to protect your son. But even if that weren't the case, you'd still be welcome. Your son is welcome, too. We're going south to build a new city, and we're going to need everyone we can get. We've all had to do terrible things to survive over the years, but if you're willing to help then we're happy to forgive." I released her shoulder, and took her hand instead. "It's up to you. Think about it. If you decide you want to come, then pack your things and meet us here in an hour. If not, we're going to Lower Hutt; you can always meet us there later."

  Isabelle looked up at me for a few long seconds, then she nodded, wiped her eyes, and turned away from me. I watched until she was out of sight, my stomach twisting itself into knots. Then, suddenly, my radio chirped and I heard Michael calling for me. Thoughts of the lone woman struggling with a difficult decision vanished in the face of the arduous task of getting sixty-something people moving.

  ***

  It took longer than anticipated to get our convoy in motion, with so many new people, vehicles, and animals to plan for. It was nearly midday by the time we were heading south, and poor Isabelle nearly frozen to the bone waiting for us. We packed her and her belongings into one of the trucks that had a working heater, and then we were on the move.

  The road directly south of Taihape was in good condition, though it was framed on each side by dense bush that cast the world into perpetual shadows. After a couple of hours, the forest gave way to open plains studded with sheep and the occasional tree, but farther in the distance I caught a glimpse of white.

  "What is that?" I asked, standing up in the saddle to try and get a better look. "Over there; the white?"

  "That would be cliffs," Gavin said, amusement dancing across his scarred face; he and Michael had opted to ride in the vanguard with me. "Just wait until we get a bit closer, then hold on to your lunch."

  "Hold onto my lunch?" I echoed, glancing back at him. Gavin just laughed. Michael shot him a dark look.

  "That's not nice," he scolded. "You know she doesn't like heights."

  "Oh, she doesn't?" Gavin's mirth vanished as swiftly as it had appeared. "I didn't know that, actually. It never came up."

  "Wait, wait," I interrupted, holding up my free hand. "Are you guys saying we're going to have to go near those cliffs?"

  "Oh dear," Gavin said, suddenly looking worried. "There's a massive canyon coming up. The road follows it for a while, then crosses a bridge over it. After that, it's all downhill to the plains."

  "Ah, cripes." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Think we'll get there by dark?"

  Gavin glanced up at the sky, then shook his head. "At the rate we're travelling, it'll probably be tomorrow morning."

  "Okay, so I've got a few hours to put my big girl panties on, that's good," I answered dryly. "But after that, nice, long, flat plains, right? Forever?"

  "All the way to the sea, yeah," Gavin replied with a chuckle.

  "Okay, I can do it," I said firmly, straightening my shoulders and putting on my bravest face. Did I feel it? Of course not. I really, really hated heights. But I wasn't going to let them know that, now was I?

  ***

  Thankfully for my pride, the bridge in question turned out to be far wider and a lot less steep than anticipated. By the time we actually reached it, I'd already constructed a terrifying image of three hundred meter drops onto solid stone in my head. What we actually crossed was barely more than a gully, packed with tall trees that made the drop seem nearly insignificant. Just as they'd promised, after that it was all downhill into broad, rolling plains that stretched as far as the eye could see.

  For two weeks, we travelled south-west along the highway towards the coast. We stopped at each major town along the way to scavenge for supplies, and to clear away any of the infected that hadn't already found eternal rest. By the time we were done, the towns of Mangaweka, Hunterville, Marton, Bulls, and Sanson were safe and clear for anyone who followed after us.

  Every night, I contacted Erica on the satellite phone and updated her about our progress, and she in turn updated our radio broadcast. As we moved south, we occasionally found small bands of people waiting for us. Sometimes it was a single person, wild-eyed and jumpy. Other times, it was a little family group just glad to see a friendly face.

  By the time we reached the town of Levin, our group had swelled to nearly eighty souls. Some of them were shy and reluctant to join in with group activities, while others seemed positively delighted by the opportunity. I have to admit that I was one of the reluctant ones at first; although I did my best to always be
there when someone needed me, I was still nervous about being around so many unfamiliar people. Michael seemed to sense my distress, and was always on hand with a reassuring arm and a kind word when I started to feel overwhelmed.

  As our group grew, so did its needs. We could no longer spend the night in a single dwelling, so we split everyone into three groups and let them organise their own food and watch rosters. Although our fleet and herd grew steadily with each township, we eventually ended up with too many people and not enough seats. That meant people started having to take turns travelling on foot, which slowed our progress further still.

  Despite the regular frosts and occasional sprinkling of rain or snow, we found plenty of wild produce growing along the roadside, more than enough to keep us going as we travelled. At Levin, we stopped for a week to rest, recover, and replenish our supplies by fishing in the lake that ran alongside the town. By the time we left, another ten souls had drifted in from the north-east to join us, and we had to create a fourth subdivision for the night rosters.

  On the last night before we were due to leave Levin, I walked into the house my group had claimed and found a bunch of people sitting around watching the television with rapt fascination. Michael waved me over and patted a spot on the floor beside him. To my surprise, I discovered that they were all watching the evening news.

  "What's got you all so interested?" I asked.

  "We just switched it on and he was talking about us," Michael answered. "I don't know how, but he found out about everything. The mutants, our voyage south, Tumanako, even you."

  We both fell silent after that, and focused on watching the Anchorman talking about us as if he knew us. For the first time in the ten years that I'd been watching his show, he looked excited. He'd even shaved, and somehow seemed less rumpled and miserable than he usually did. Hope shone in his vivid blue eyes.

  Suddenly, I found myself with tears running down my cheeks. I rubbed them away with the back of my hand and took a deep breath to try and steady myself, but it wasn't going to happen. Simon Wentworth, the Anchorman, had been my only human contact for so long. I remembered with such clarity the feeling that he was my only friend, even though he didn't know I existed. Now, I was hearing my own name spoken from his lips. It felt unreal.

  "The New Exodus is scheduled to leave Levin in the morning," he said, his voice strong and confident. "All people in the area are encouraged to join the convoy south. Survivors in the South Island are asked to head to Picton as soon as possible. Work is currently underway to refurbish a ferry, to bring you up to the North Island."

  "No way!" I gasped, shocked and thrilled at the same time. "How did the South Island find out?"

  "That's Simon for you," Anahera said, her eyes gleaming with tears just as much as mine were. "He always was resourceful. I guess he must have heard Erica's broadcast—"

  "Shh!" Hemi said suddenly. "He's talking to Sandy!"

  "Sandrine McDermott," the Anchorman said, looking straight at the camera. I froze, feeling as though he could see me somehow, even though I knew that he couldn't. "If you happen to see this broadcast, please be advised that you and your people are welcome here. We're waiting for you, and we have some very important news to share with you when you arrive. Good luck."

  Then, just like that the broadcast was over. I glanced around at my friends, wide-eyed in surprise and unable to form a coherent word for nearly a minute.

  "News?" I said at long last. "He's got news for us? Important news? But he can't share it on his show? What on Earth could it be?"

  "There's only one thing it could be," Skylar said softly, her tone low and reverent. "The one thing that makes all of this change."

  "No," I said, shaking my head. "I know what you're thinking, but it couldn't be that. That kind of news… well, we'd have heard about it by now, surely."

  "Not necessarily," she said, turning to stare at me with enormous eyes. "They wouldn't want to get people's hopes up, would they?"

  "What are you two talking about?" Michael asked.

  I turned and stared at him, unable to say the words. Skylar felt no such compulsion, and she said them for me.

  "A cure," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Someone's finally found a cure."

  Chapter Eight

  Our slow but uneventful southward march continued for several weeks across the rolling, green plains of the Horizons Region, and down into the outskirts of the area that had once been known as Greater Wellington. The winter solstice came and went, and then the days finally started to get longer again. The fourth full moon since our departure from Ohaupo blossomed in the sky, giving us a way to mark the passage of time as our ancestors had in earlier generations.

  With every day that passed, the baby within me grew. I marked the 90th day off my list while we were clearing infected out of the city of Paraparaumu. By the 93rd day, we were travelling south again. I was sitting in the passenger seat of the Hilux reading a book when I heard Priyanka frantically calling for me.

  "Mama! Mama!"

  I glanced up and saw her galloping back towards the convoy, her short hair blowing in the breeze. "God, would you look at her? I can't believe how much she's grown."

  Michael made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a grunt of annoyance. "I know. I keep catching Dominic and some of the other boys peeking at her when they think we're not watching. At this rate, she's going to turn into a woman before I've figured out how to cope with that. I'm going to need a bigger stick."

  "We're just going to have to trust that she's smart enough to take care of herself and know when to ask for help, which I'm pretty sure she is," I replied. By the time I finished speaking, Priya had brought her horse up beside our truck and was frantically pointing to the south-west.

  "Mama, we see something!" she told me, practically vibrating with excitement. "Come and look!"

  "Okay," I agreed readily. Michael didn't even bother to stop the truck; we were only moving at a snail's pace, and we'd all gotten used to climbing in and out of creeping vehicles during the voyage. Priya slipped her foot out of the stirrup and offered a hand to me. I took advantage of both, and used them to swing myself up to ride double with her.

  Once I was seated, she flicked the reins and guided her horse away from the convoy again. She had things well under control, which gave me a chance to study the surrounding landscape. The hills to my left were so steep that it looked like a mountain goat would have struggled to climb them, and were shrouded in low cloud which gave everything a slightly otherworldly feel. I glanced to the right and saw very little: just thick bush at first, which eventually gave way to a few small warehouses, an overgrown parking lot, and a large restaurant advertising specials that hadn't been relevant in a very long time.

  Priya rode past them without stopping. Always on the lookout for supplies, I pulled my radio out of my pocket and held down the receiver. "We've got a few buildings coming up, we should probably stop and search them. It's also time for lun—"

  Just at that moment, we rounded a corner and the trees suddenly parted. My words died in my throat. I felt my mouth opening and closing like a freshly-caught fish, but no words came out. There were no words. There was only emotion.

  "Sandy?" Michael's voice crackled through the radio, laced with concern.

  "Oh God," I whispered, my thumb locked on the receiver. "Michael, we… we made it, to the coast. I can see the ocean. I-I forgot how beautiful it was." I muffled a sob behind my hand, unable to keep my emotion in check. "Stop the convoy when you get to the buildings, and bring everyone who wants to down to the beach."

  I put the radio away and let Priya help me down from the horse. I barely even noticed the other scouts clustered behind me as we made our way across the gravel and down onto the sand. There was a low, crumbled sea wall not far from the edge of the ocean; I went over to it and sat down, then pulled off my shoes and socks. The feeling of sand between my toes instantly brought me back to my childhood, to all the happy memories sha
red with my family so long ago. Those summers had been spent on the soft golden sand of the East Coast rather than the coarse black sand of the West, but it didn't matter. The ocean was the ocean, no matter where we were.

  I just sat there and watched Priya and her friends examining the shore with great interest, and I was still there when the rest of the convoy joined us. I felt Michael sit down beside me, but we didn't speak. We just watched as more and more people came down to join us. Some of them were confident and playful, but others – like me – had obviously not see the sea in half a lifetime. For many of the children, it was the first time they'd seen the ocean at all.

  That didn't seem to bother them, though. Within a matter of minutes, dozens of people were stripping off their clothing and splashing around in the shallows. The water had to be freezing, but no one seemed to care. Everyone was smiling, and that made me happy.

  I leaned against Michael for warmth and closed my eyes, enjoying the scent of salt water and distant storms. It was a smell that I wanted to remember forever.

  ***

  We lingered by the seaside for an hour and then we moved on, following the coastline southwards towards the township of Pukerua Bay. We paused there for a few days, both to clear the town and to enjoy spending time playing in the ocean. I'd be lying if I said that the children were the only ones who enjoyed that; the adults loved it just as much, myself included. We'd all forgotten just how different salt water fish tasted. I’d been avoiding fish as much as I could because the smell bothered my nose, but even I was excited to try some. It was exotic and new, and that newness revitalised us.

  When we began to move south again, we all did so with renewed energy and vigour. We were so close now that we could barely contain our excitement. The mutants were so far away that we were starting to feel safe again, though not safe enough that any of us would consider loosening our rigid safety precautions. We were still going into unknown territory, and now it felt even more vital that everyone stay safe. Our group had blossomed to over a hundred souls, and I could feel every one of them looking to me for guidance. It was a strange feeling, but wonderful at the same time. My inner council – Michael, Skylar, Anahera and the others who had been with us since the beginning – were always there to help me, and that gave me confidence.