The Survivors Book III: Winter

by V. L. Dreyer

  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.

  "Through here is the kitchen," she explained. "My joints don't much care for the weather. Would you mind getting the door, dear?"

  "Of course," I agreed immediately, stepping past her to put my shoulder against the door. It groaned with age, but swung open reluctantly to reveal a massive, professional-grade kitchen that was very nearly as clean and tidy as the day the world had ended.

  "Wow," Hemi breathed, peering over my shoulder. "Skye's going to have a field day in here."

  "Just so long as she cleans up after herself!" Netty snapped, shooting a dark look at him. Then she looked back at me, and her expression immediately softened. "I've managed to keep just about everything here in working order, so feel free to use things. If you're staying for a few days, you may want to catch some extra fish and dehydrate them; the dehydrator is right over there."

  "Why did a resort have a dehydrator?" I asked curiously, glancing at the machine. "Particularly an industrial-sized one?"

  "Oh, that wasn't here originally," she explained, patting my arm in a motherly fashion. "One of the groups passing through brought it to me as a gift. It was their way of thanking me for my hospitality."

  "Is that how you've survived all these years by yourself?" I enquired, looking down at her with interest. "I mean, most women I know have only barely made it, usually because they've had groups to protect them."

  "Yes." Netty chuckled, slipped her arm through mine, and led me back out of the room. "Gratitude, kindness, and a whole lot of luck. I let people stay here, and they offer me kindness in return. I can see in your eyes that you've already been thinking about what you're going to give me. Everyone looks at me like that."

  I stiffened in surprise, but the shock didn't last for long. "You're right," I admitted, laughing. "Well, sort of. I was actually thinking about how I could convince you to leave and come with us when we go."

  "Well, it's sweet of you to offer, but I would have to decline. I'm much too old to travel." Netty turned a corner and led me out into a large, open-air courtyard. Around the edge of the room, mature vegetable plants grew in large planter boxes, sheltered from the elements by the walls around them. The centre of the courtyard was dominated by a tiled pool, steaming in the cool, stormy air.

  I paused and sniffed, then shot a curious look at the little old lady. "I smell sulphur. Is that a geothermal pool?"

  "It is," she replied proudly. "People have been coming here for centuries to bathe in the healing waters. There are less people now, but they still come. Don't spend too long in this pool – it's quite hot, and can make you light-headed. Now, come this way, I'll show you where you can park your vehicles…"

  ***

  Once our inspection was complete, we returned to the vehicles to find everyone waiting anxiously for us to appear. It wasn't until I'd gathered everyone together and explained the situation that they began to relax. Smiles started to appear on people's faces, and I could practically feel the tension lifting away like a palpable weight.

  Netty vanished before I could introduce her to everyone, but I couldn't blame her. A crowd of that size must have been intimidating to her. Once the situation had been explained, people drifted off to choose their own rooms, and fetch their things from the convoy. The complex had enough rooms for everyone to have their own space, except for the people that actually wanted to share.

  Unsurprisingly, Michael and I were amongst that group. Sometime between posting the lookouts and helping unpack the gear from the convoy, we found ourselves alone together in our room. Michael stuck his head into the attached en suite, then gasped and gave me a wide-eyed look.

  "We've got a spa bath in here," he announced, sounding utterly shocked. "And a shower, and our own toilet. This place is like… like…"

  "…like a luxury resort?" I finished dryly.

  "Yeah!" he exclaimed, as excited as a schoolboy. "No wonder people come here and bribe Netty to let them stay. This place is amazing."

  "I know." I sighed, wandering over to lean against his broad back. "It's so warm in here. I read on a pamphlet by the front desk that they've got the pipes running under the building that heat all the rooms naturally. Can you imagine? The room we're standing in right now is heated by water from the heart of a volcano."

  Michael stiffened at that comment, then looked back at me with an anxious expression. "Oh, I never thought of it like that. Do you think it's safe?"

  "You heard Anahera, and Netty. People have been coming here for centuries, and they're all fine." I grinned at him, and gave him a playful slap on the bottom. "Stop worrying, and go back to thinking about how much fun we're going to have in that spa bath."

  His expression instantly brightened. A second later, I found myself swept right off my feet, my startled squeal muffled by enthusiastic kisses.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When we first arrived at Tokaanu, the plan had been to spend a couple of days. Nearly two weeks later, we were still there. Every time we planned to leave, someone came down with a cold, or we decided that the weather was just too foul, or the latest batch of fish wasn't quite finished drying. Although we still set watches every day and night, nothing bad happened at all. Tokaanu became our oasis, a place to stop and rest in the middle of an arduous journey.

  On the thirteenth morning, Anahera and Michael found me down by the lake front pretending to fish. I hadn't even baited the hook, but I needed time to think and it seemed like a valid excuse. I didn't realise they were even there until I felt the dock move ever-so-slightly under someone's foot. I glanced up, and found them both watching me with serious expressions on their faces.

  "You heard it too, then?" I asked quietly, tugging my hood forward to keep the rain out of my eyes.

  "The talk about settling here permanently?" Anahera asked. "Yes, that's why we're here."

  "As much as I hate to say it, we need to move on soon," Michael said, easing himself down to sit beside me. "This place is wonderful, but…"

  "But we need to keep moving," I finished, turning away from him to stare down into the murky water. "I know. We're still too close to the outbreak. But the question is, do we stay here until spring and then move south, or do we risk it and try to push across the Central Plateau now?"

  "We have to go now," Anahera said, her expression dark and serious. "The Plateau gets snow, and if we wait even another day then we may find ourselves trapped here with no way to travel further south. What happens if the mutants reach us while we're trapped here? How would we defend ourselves?"

  "We can't." I sighed and rubbed my hand across my forehead. "We need to go south, and try to beat the snow. If we can just make it across the plateau, that'll give us a solid barrier between us and them. How are our supplies looking?"

  "Excellent," Anahera replied. "We've caught and preserved enough fish and duck to keep us going for a month if we ration it. Our water reservoirs have been refilled, and Zain managed to find enough parts to convert two of the bikes and one of the trucks to propane. We found a little more usable petrol in a small community down by the lake front, which should keep us going for a while."

  "And the guns?" I asked, shifting my gaze to Michael. "Are they still in working order after all this rain?"

  "Yes." He nodded and smiled at me. "I've checked them all over, cleaned, and lubricated them, and I'm about ninety percent sure that they shouldn't misfire at inopportune moments."

  "That's going to have to do," I decided, starting to rise to my feet. Half way up, something tugged on the line and startled me so much that I ended up falling on my bottom. "Oh damn, I think I caught something!"

  "Yes, that will happen when you're fishi
ng." Anahera laughed, leaning past me to help me manage the rod. "Relax for a moment, give him a little slack, then reel him in slowly."

  "But I didn't even bait it!" I protested, horrified. Thank goodness no one impressionable was watching, because my response was a wee bit embarrassing: I tried to shove the rod into her hands. "I can't do this, Ana. You do it."

  "Oh no you don't," she said firmly, pushing the rod back into my hands. "Even the children can fish, Sandrine. I know how you feel about hurting animals, but you have to learn sometime. Here, I'll help you. Like this."

  Despite my protests, Anahera leaned over my shoulder, and guided my hands through the motions of reeling in the fish with the strength and confidence that she applied to everything she did. Her soft, even tone calmed me down from the verge of panic. Together, we hauled in the fish and pulled the poor, thrashing thing out into the light of day.

  "Oh, wow, it's so big!" I cried, feeling a strange combination of horror and pride about what I'd done. "I… please don't make me kill it. I can't. I'm not ready."

  "All right, all right." Anahera laughed, grabbing my struggling catch by the line above its mouth. With an expert touch, she put it out of its misery and then held it up for me to see. "This is a beautiful fish, though. It's a rainbow trout. He'll make a delicious dinner for your family tonight."

  I took a deep breath to calm my rattled nerves, and let it out as a long, drawn-out sigh. "First thing tomorrow morning, we head south. We better go tell the troops."

  ***

  The announcement was met with an odd mixture of disappointed groans, and excitement. For some, the idea of leaving our little home-away-from-home was depressing; for others, it was just another step in an on-going adventure into the unknown. I wasn't quite sure where I stood, but I knew that it had to be done. Like it or not, we had to go south.

  Netty took the announcement with silent stoicism, though I could see the sadness in her eyes. By the time I'd finished answering the inevitable onslaught of questions from my groupmates, she'd vanished from the room. As soon as I could do so politely, I extracted myself from the crowd and headed to her room in search of her.

  Half way there, I spotted her shuffling along slowly, one hand on the wall and the other clutching something around her throat.

  "Netty?" I called, hurrying to catch up with her. She paused and looked back at me, a haunted expression on her face. It gave me pause, and slowed my approach. Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat the size of a baseball. "Netty, please come with us. Don't make me leave you here all alone."

  "I can't, dear. You know that. At my age, the journey would kill me." The old woman gave me the faintest of smiles, then looked away. "Besides, Tokaanu is my home. I've lived here for ninety-three years. I married my husband here, and buried him here. I raised four children and twelve grandchildren here, and then I buried all of them as well. I want to stay with my family."

  I started to protest, but before the words even left my mouth I realised that they were fruitless. She'd made up her mind, and even if I did manage to dissuade her, she'd always regret leaving. My shoulders slumped, and my gaze dropped to the floor. "I… I understand. Is there anything we can do to help before we go? Anything that needs fixing, anything we can leave to make you more comfortable?"

  "Just one thing, dear. Take this with you." She smiled and took my hand. I felt the sensation of metal against my palm, and when I looked down at it I saw that she'd given me a locket on a chain, still warm from around her neck. I looked up at her quizzically, and her smile widened. "That trinket belonged to my grandmother, who got it from her grandmother. None of my grandchildren made it through the plague, but I would like to see the tradition continue."

  "I would be honoured to take on the tradition for you," I answered, blinking back the tears that threatened my vision. "Thank you, Mrs Swanson."

  "The honour is mine, Sandrine McDermott," the old woman replied. Suddenly, I felt her arms around me, and I was drawn into her embrace. "It makes me happy to know that the future of our kind is in the hands of someone like you."

  With those words, she released me and shuffled away. Everything that needed saying had already been said. Suddenly, I found myself facing the overwhelming urge to cry. I managed to keep myself together long enough to find Skylar, but only just.

  I came up behind her and touched her arm. "Sis, I need a few minutes. Can you get everyone moving?"

  She glanced back at me, but something about my expression must have warned her off asking too many questions. She just nodded and shrugged. "Sure, okay."

  I couldn't find the words to thank her. I just nodded once, then I turned and fled back to my room. Michael was already there, folding our things and packing them back into our bags. He took one look at my face, and silently held his arms out to me. I ran to him, buried my face in his chest, and wept for what felt like a very long time.

  ***

  It was unusual for our group to do anything in a subdued fashion, but preparing for our departure from Tokaanu was one of those rare times. Even the children seemed to sense that something was not right; no laughter accompanied their play, and everyone's smiles were tinged with sadness. No one suggested that we force the old woman to come with us, even though we hated the idea of leaving her behind. It was her choice, and we had to respect it.

  By nightfall, the trucks were freshly fuelled and ready to go, and the bikes were strapped beneath a tarpaulin on a trailer that we'd scavenged from one of the nearby suburbs. The rain still hadn't let up, so it seemed logical to squeeze everyone into the trucks instead. It was a tight fit, but it could be done. The territory we were approaching was rough and dangerous, and the weather would make it even more treacherous.

  We ate a quiet dinner, cleaned up after ourselves, and put ourselves to bed. Crying had left me exhausted; I fell asleep quickly, but my sleep was poor and troubled by dark dreams. I woke up early as a result, feeling wrung out and exhausted, but indulging in a hot shower refreshed me. Michael was still sleeping, so I dressed quietly in the bathroom, crept out into the hallway, and closed the door behind me.

  Then, I turned around and almost fell over Doctor Cross. He jumped back and peered at me, a confused, sleepy look on his face. "Oh, Ms McDermott. Have you seen my granddaughter?"

  "Not since last night," I replied, glancing down the hall towards their room. "Perhaps she went to the kitchen to get a drink?"

  "Oh, maybe…" He yawned broadly, and rubbed his eye. "I should go get my glasses."

  "It's okay, you go back to bed," I said reassuringly, patting his shoulder. "I'll find her."

  "If you insist," he agreed without complaint. I helped guide him back to the right doorway, then headed off towards the kitchen to check for Maddy.

  There was no sign of her, or anyone else. It was well before sunrise, so everyone was still fast asleep except for the lookouts on the roof. A quick call to them on the radio confirmed that the little girl hadn't left the complex overnight. Fighting the rising concern in my gut, I headed out to check the pool, the storage rooms, and anywhere else I could think of, but there was no sign of her.

  I was on my way back to raise the alarm and start arranging search parties when a strange sound caught my ear. I stopped and listened intently. Someone was crying. A child was crying. The sound was coming from Room 25. Netty's room.

  Fear and concern twisted my gut. I raced to the door and tried the handle, half-expecting it to be locked. It wasn't, though. It popped open effortlessly, and the scene I saw was one that I hadn't expected. Maddy was sitting on the floor beside Netty's bed, clinging to the old woman's hand and sobbing like her little heart was breaking.

  At first glance it looked like Netty was just sleeping, until I realised that she was too still. The hair on the back of my neck rose as my instincts came to grip with the fact that there was a dead thing in front of me. No, not just a dead thing. A dead person.

  "Netty?" I whispered, frozen with shock. My eyes saw things, but my brain didn't want to un
derstand what they meant. There was a prescription vial on the dressing table beside her bed, and a folded slip of paper, but that just confused me. I couldn't bring myself to understand what I was seeing. "Maddy, what… what happened?"

  "She called to me," the little girl sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. "She called to me in my sleep. She said that she didn't want to die alone."

  "No… no, no, no, she can't be dead." Tears welled up in my eyes all over again, but this time they galvanised me into action. I rushed over to the bedside, and leaned down to touch the old woman's cheek. It was still warm, but not as warm as it should have been. I knew right away that she'd been dead for nearly an hour, but that didn't stop me from crying out to her. "Netty! No, you can't do this. What about your family? W-what about—"

  My voice caught in my throat, and came out as a choked sob. Maddy grabbed me while I was close to her, and clung to me as though desperate for contact with the living. I put my arms around her and picked her up, but when I tried to carry her out of the room she wailed in protest.

  "No!" she cried, hitting my shoulder with her little fist. "No, no, not yet! I promised I wouldn't leave her alone!"

  "You already fulfilled that promise, honey. She's already gone." I struggled to keep hold of her, but she was a growing girl and weighed more than I could comfortably lift. I gave up and set her back on her feet.

  She promptly raced back over to Netty's bedside, and threw herself back down beside her. "No, she's still here. I can see her, standing by the door! I promised that I'd stay until she'd left!"

  "By the… what?" I turned around, and stared at the door, but I saw nothing. If the hairs on the back of my neck hadn't already been standing up, they would have just about jumped clear off my skin at that point. "There's no one there, Maddy. She's dead. You need to go back to your granddad, I'll take care of her."

  "No!" she wailed, with a vehemence that made me flinch. "She's right there, and she's talking to you! Why aren't you listening? Listen to her!"