Their conversation lead on to those in hospitals, the crippled, those needing medication to stay alive and those needing pills to stay sane. Then there were the drug addicts, what would happen when they could not get their fix? They would rampage, possibly killing innocent bystanders and then die from the enforced cold turkey.
They talked on into the night, eventually Jamie fell asleep, this time for real, and the moon had become a tight white ball in the sky. The temperature had dropped, not unpleasantly, but one could feel dampness in its coolness.
‘I think I might try and sleep,’ Lola said, sliding down under the blanket.
Georgia followed suit, desperately trying not to think of all the unfortunates, trying to distract herself with thoughts of happier times and slowly she began to drift into sleep.
‘I’ve thought of something else,’ Lola said.
‘Something else?’ Georgia asked.
‘Yeah, something else that will bring the population down.
Oh joy, now what? ‘Oh,’ she said, her mind swirling with thoughts of other potential threats, inclement weather, the black plague…,’
‘Serial killers!’ Lola exclaimed, cutting across Georgia’s thoughts.
‘Serial Killers?’ Georgia repeated.
‘Yeah, there must be hundreds of them, you know, who have never been caught, I mean, think of how many people have disappeared and…,’ Lola let this hang in the air for a moment then added, ‘seriously I mean, without any law and order, no consequences, they would have free reign to kill whenever they wanted.’
Georgia gave a cynical laugh, as she considered this.
‘What?’ Lola asked, ‘What’s so funny.’
Georgia just shook her head, forgetting that Lola couldn’t see her.
‘No, come on, let me in on it.’
‘I can’t, it was just a stupid irrational line of thinking.’
‘In that case I insist,’ Lola exclaimed, ‘you have to share it.’
‘I was just thinking,’ she hesitated, then continued, ‘maybe they would stop killing, because it was no longer a thrill? I mean, wouldn’t it be a bit like giving strawberries, to the seasonal pickers on their first day. Without exception, they never want to eat another one ever again.’
‘Oh, that’s a bit catawampus. They stop killing, but everyone else in the struggle for survival starts!’
Then, even though the whole premise wasn’t the slightest bit funny, they both burst out laughing.
‘I will never think about strawberries in the same light ever again,’ Lola gasped, between fits of laughter.
This set Georgia off again, she was practically clutching her sides by now.
‘What’s the matter?’ It was Rebecca, her voice sounding sleepy and a little scared.
‘It’s alright honey,’ Georgia whispered, ‘go back to sleep, Lola and I were just sharing a joke.’
‘About strawberries?’ Her voice sounded incredulous.
The two women exploded into giggles.
‘Yes, Rebecca, I guess about strawberries,’ Georgia bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back more laughter, wiping away the tears that had come.
‘That seems kind of dumb,’ Rebecca said, as she rolled over under the covers, turning her back to them.
They settled down into silence for a while. Then Lola leaned over towards Georgia.
‘You know something,’ Lola’s voice was suddenly serious, ‘I am so glad I met up with you. I do not think I would still be alive if I hadn’t, and I like you.’
‘Even though I am paranoid?’ Georgia chuckled.
‘Yeah, even though, in a way you are like the older sister I always wished I had. You can be real serious, and a little directional, but you can be fun to be around too.’
‘I don’t have a sister, just one brother,’ Georgia said, the laughter fading as she thought about him.
‘You do now,’ Lola insisted, I think family ties are becoming a little scarce lately, so…’
‘So instead of being brothers in arms,’ Georgia interrupted, ‘we could be sisters in…,’ she paused looking for the right word.
‘Survival?’ Lola offered.
‘Sisters in survival,’ Georgia said. The words felt right as they slipped of her tongue. ‘That is what we are then, Lola.’
‘Yes, we are.’ Lola confirmed.
A little later Lola’s sleepy voice whispered to her, ‘Sleep well sis.’
‘You too sis,’ Georgia replied.
High overhead, a night bird cried out, and then all of a sudden, Georgia could have sworn she heard Nathan’s voice, ‘Nite Babe.’ It sounded so clear, as though he were right next to her.
Startled, she half sat up, looking around, but he was not there. Only the dark shadows and moonbeams coming through the trees, but no Nathan.
‘Nite, my darling,’ she whispered into the night. Was this a sign that he was still alive, some form of telepathy? Or was it simply that she need to hear his voice so badly that her mind was playing tricks on her? She no longer cared if he was with another woman, she just knew that she missed him, and hoped he was safe.
Chapter Twenty Five
July 19, Day 9
Despite the late night, Georgia woke up early. So early, that it was in fact, still dark. The stars had gone and the air felt damp, fresh and somehow very clean; the surrounding silver birch and oak trees, stark black silhouettes against the ever so faintly lightening sky. It was so quiet that Georgia could clearly hear the burbling of the stream and the occasional pat, pat, as drops of dew dripped downwards from the leafy canopy and spattered onto the duff below.
The Katy-dids were silent and even though the birds had not begun their morning chorus yet, Georgia knew that dawn was not too far away. She left the others, still deeply asleep, and taking the change of clothes that she had left out the night before, she carefully made her way down to the stream to wash. It had been a long time since she had woken so early and felt so wide-awake and invigorated.
As she bathed in the chilled waters, a tremor of excitement raced through her. It was how she had felt in the past, waking early on the mornings of important final exams. She saw these as moments of truth, the culmination of years of preparation laid out in neat questionnaire form; the future depending on the results. The acute awareness as she prepared to do battle, armed only with a pen, and the knowledge she had conscientiously stored in her mind. This same sense of exhilaration was coursing through her veins this morning, for today would be a decisive test of their ability to defy the odds.
The stakes were much higher now, if they were found wanting, then they would more than likely become part of that horrifying statistic; the statistics where only the top ten percent would receive a pass mark. In this situation, failure did not mean a life of menial work and poverty; it meant death and the five of them would be numbered along with 200 million others. A figure so great, that it was almost incomprehensible.
Georgia shivered, her skin covered in goose bumps as she quickly dressed into clean clothes. Birds were beginning their dawn chorus. The darkness was lifting now, and color was beginning to touch her surroundings. She shook out the clothes she had slept in, rolled them up and began walking back to the camp.
Today they would go out and hunt for game, and gather edible plants. None of them had ever done anything like this before and yet Georgia felt positive. They had the tools. The bows and the shotgun, the latter only if all else failed. Moreover, there were the books they had taken from the library, with pictures of the plants they could eat and she felt they had the basic common sense to use these items to their fullest potential. They also possessed the greatest capability of all, the one shared by all living creatures, the instinct to survive.
Back at the campsite, she quietly opened her pack and dug out the ‘Guide to Edible Plants’. Soon it would be light enough for her to start reading through it. The others were still asleep; Millie and Ant were out of sight, beneath the covers. Badger lay across Jamie’s legs and as Geo
rgia quietly began gathering twigs and kindling to light the fire, the Boston terrier opened one eye, giving Georgia an almost imperceptible wiggle of greeting before going back to sleep.
Georgia held the flame of the Bic lighter up to some dry leaves and once the larger twigs had caught, and the fire was burning well, she half-filled the bigger of the two pots with water. Water for coffee, and the rice porridge she would make. She added a handful of ground coffee to the small pot and then sat back on one of the logs, and reached for the book.
By the time the water had come to a rolling boil, Georgia was no longer feeling quite so exhilarated. In fact the more she read the more disheartened she was feeling, reaching the rather sobering conclusion that searching the countryside for fruit, berries and greens was not going to be as simple as she had assumed. So many plants were poisonous! And just to make it more complicated, there were poisonous plants that resembled plants that were not poisonous and even some plants that were edible, but had toxic parts to them.
She glanced up, as Lola yawned loudly, then stretched languidly as she sat up, smiling as she caught Georgia’s eye. Even with her hair rumpled and the blue dress, now delegated to night attire, creased and crumpled, she somehow managed to look well rested. ‘As though she had spent the night lazing about a suite in the Ritz rather than slept out in the wilds,’ thought Georgia, as she ran her fingers through her own hair, trying vainly to smooth the tangled mop.
Lola made her way over to the fireside and sat down. ‘That coffee sure smells good.’
‘It tastes as good as it smells,’ Georgia said as she moved over to make room, then added, ‘grab a mug, they are next to you, and there is still a little of the creamer if you like. I had mine without sugar, I think I could get used to it, thought we might save the sugar for the kids.’
Lola nodded. ‘That’s fine with me, and I prefer it unsweetened anyway. So what are you reading?’
Georgia grimaced. ‘All about the differences between Poison Hemlock and Queen Anne’s lace. You can eat one, but the other one is deadly, and the problem is, they look practically the same to me. I just don’t see how I will remember all this.’
Lola laughed. ‘Don’t tell me you are fixing to learn that whole book?’
‘Well, I thought it might be a good idea, we…,’
‘Give me a look at that,’ Lola said, and before Georgia could protest she snatched the book out of her hands and began leafing through the pages. She looked sideways at Georgia, an eyebrow cocked, ‘Really?’ she grinned, ‘you are going to try and memorize all this?’
Georgia suddenly felt a little foolish, though she was not quite sure why, ‘well I…,’
‘Nah, I reckon this is something you should leave to me.’
Georgia opened her mouth to object, then shut it again, as Lola still talking held up her hand, ‘and I am sure that you know everything there is to know about Gumtrees and Bottlebrush trees, and all those other weird and wonderful plants that grow Down Under, but that’s no help here, we’re in America, and I might be a lot younger than you, but remember I was born here, I grew up here, and for sure I know a lot more about what’s what than you do.’
‘I’m not that old, I am only thirty six.’ Georgia protested feeling more than a little indignant.
Lola chuckled. ‘That’s what you got out of everything I just said? That you are old?’
‘Well no,’ she smiled sheepishly. ‘I take your point, and as much as I hate to admit it, you are right.’
‘What’s she right about?’ Rebecca had come up behind them, resting her hand lightly on Georgia’s shoulder before reaching down for one of the cups.
Georgia looked up at her. ‘That she should be in charge of finding edible plants.’
‘Oh cool,’ said Rebecca, ‘makes sense.’
‘Yep, sure does,’ said Lola, then giving her a slow wink she turned back to Georgia and added, ‘and by the by, it’s easy to tell the difference between Poison Hemlock and Queen Anne’s lace. You just have to remember that Queen Anne has hairy legs.’ And before Georgia could think of a suitable response, Lola stood up, ‘Back in a minute, nature calls.’
She came back ten minutes later, flushed, and indignantly complaining about a patch of stinging nettles. ‘My lady garden is on fire, didn’t realize what they were until I had already hunkered down, I leapt back up to my feet, and somehow in the process of pulling up my jeans, I got some caught in my panties and well…, ouch.’ This last part was uttered as she sat down next to Georgia.
‘I could say something about that,’ Georgia chortled, ‘but I am going to be very restrained and say nothing at all, and I would offer to find you a dock leaf, but …,’ she tailed off, now laughing so hard she couldn’t finish.
‘What’s a lady garden?’ asked Jamie, suddenly appearing at their side with an armful of twigs.
They spluttered into silence, then Lola began, ‘oh no, I said, the ladies garden,’ and Georgia added, ‘Yes, Lola was telling me about a lady who grew stinging nettles in her garden.’ ‘That just sounded so wrong,’ Georgia thought, as the two of them burst out laughing and Jamie, dumped the kindling and walked off, shaking his head.
After breakfast, the pots scoured clean, Georgia filled them both with water, this time to replenish their drinking supply. Then while the children completed their own chores; tidying the sleeping area, gathering up laundry, and collecting more firewood, Georgia went to get the bows, and all the related bits and pieces.
It was no easy task, as Lola, the day before had retied the knots (fearful that Jamie might lose the bow), so tightly that they were impossible to unpick. In the end, somewhat frustrated, Georgia drew her knife and cut the bow free. Then settling near the dying embers of the fire, she carefully unfolded the somewhat grubby and now nearly illegible, information leaflet that came with the Genesis set. She read through the ‘Warning, read all the warnings’ segment, giving a humorless laugh, as she reached, ‘Only ever point at an archery target’. Followed by, ‘People are not targets’, well things had certainly changed since this had been written. The Genesis had come ready to use, ‘which was something,’ Georgia thought, as she turned her attention to the Pacific bow.
Meanwhile, Lola sitting across from her, kept up a running commentary on edible plants, as Rebecca silently perused the plant book. For the most part, Georgia simply zoned out but occasionally as she looked up from what she doing, she would catch bits and pieces of the conversation. How if they got desperate they could always eat prickly pears, provided they were peeled first.
Then Lola had sighed. ‘Mind you, I do not recall seeing any. Guess they are more in the Southwest.’
This was followed almost immediately by a long discussion on dandelions, and how you could eat, not only the leaves and roots, but even the flowers.
Georgia turned back to the job in hand. Closer examination of the Pacific bow revealed that the bowstring had no zing left in it, whatsoever. Time and humidity had rendered it virtually useless. After a bit of thought, Georgia used one of the spare bowstrings from the Genesis and then with Jamie’s help, she attempted to restring it. The first few endeavors failed dismally, but gradually between them, they worked out how to do it.
It involved cutting a few notches in the ends of the bow. Then while Jamie, Deedee and Lola, forced the ends of the bow towards each other, Georgia looped the bowstring in place. She experimentally tugged at the bowstring, satisfied with the tautness.
Suddenly Rebecca (who had been so engrossed in the book she had failed to hear their request for help), exclaimed, ‘wow, you can eat stinging nettles,’
‘Where does it say that?’ Deedee demanded with disbelief in her voice.
‘Surely Rebecca has that wrong,’ Georgia thought. That has to be one of the ‘do not eat under any circumstances’ plants.
‘Here,’ Rebecca pointed as she turned the book so they could see more clearly. Rebecca was right. In fact there was a whole paragraph extolling its virtues. The book assured them t
hat stinging nettles were a safe bet, easy to identify, because they stung. And the most amazing part, was that if you blanched the plants for 30 seconds in boiling water it totally removed the stinging effect.
‘Well,’ Lola said, exchanging a grin with Georgia, ‘it just so happens that I know exactly where there is a particularly thick patch of stinging nettles.’
‘Well good luck with that, and on that note, I am going to try out these bows.’
‘Can I come with you?’ Jamie asked, falling in step with her as she began to make her way through the trees.
‘Of course you can.’
‘Wait for me,’ Deedee came rushing up behind them. ‘Look, I bought some charcoal from the fire so you can draw a target. She showed them a blacked hand, clutching several crumbly lumps.
Once they had reached the semi clearing up above their campsite, they marked a rough circle on a thick gnarled trunk of a tree.
She decided to try out the Genesis first. Then trying to remember everything she had read in the leaflet, she carefully lined up the target, pulled back the bowstring all the way to her face, and she sent an arrow flying from the Genesis. She missed by a good eight inches. But not too bad, seeing as I have never done this before.
‘You’re not very good at this are you,’ Deedee said, as she went to retrieve the arrow.
‘Well it’s the first time I have ever shot an arrow,’ Georgia explained, as she took the arrow from Deedee on her return, and once more nocked it in place.
Deedee wrinkled her nose. ‘Yeah, but even so.’
Her next shot was a little better, and for a moment, Georgia felt quite proud, but Deedee just shook her head, and Jamie suggested she move closer to the target. She doggedly stayed where she was, and tried again. Again she missed the target, but she did at least hit the tree.
Behind her, she heard Deedee whisper to Jamie, ‘at this rate we are all going to starve.’
Ignoring this, she persevered, firing arrow after arrow, showing tiny improvements, and after a time she came to the conclusion that with a bit of practice, okay, a lot of practice, she could become proficient enough to hunt with a bow. And until then, she could always, if necessary, use the shotgun.
Survivors of the Sun Page 24