He slid open the shed door, ‘The horses can overnight in…,’ he words petered out as he stared at the huge mound of firewood, stacked up to the rafters, and filling every available space. That was new, that sure hadn’t been in there last summer.
They tethered the horses under the lean to, round the back of the shed, covering them with blankets, sharing out the last of the feed and watering them. Then carrying their saddlebags, Nathan picked up the lantern and together they went up the back steps, broke away the icicles and stepped into the kitchen.
The kitchen, Nathan was so familiar with, had become a frozen wasteland, or rather, an ice cave. He held up the lantern, staring around in fascination. Heavy drifts of snow banked up across the floor, icicles hung from the ceiling, and frost flowers encrusted the windows. Through the half open pantry door, he could see dozens upon dozens of jars of food, many of them broken, the leaking contents frozen in place. ‘Someone was living here,’ he finally said, breaking the silence.
The kitchen door was frozen in place and it took a few good blows before they managed to get it open and go into the lounge. This room, though still cold enough for their breath to be visible, was ice free. There was plenty of kindling and firewood stacked up next to the fireplace, the remains of an old fire still in the grate. As Brent crouched down to prepare the fire, Nathan set the lantern on the mantelpiece and was about to turn away when something caught his eye. He stared in disbelief.
‘Someone left a message,’ he said hoarsely, and the tone of his voice was such that Brent abruptly stood up. Then he saw it as well. Impossible to see, unless standing up close, someone had taken a pencil and scrawled across the wall in large spidery letters, ‘Check the fifth’.
‘The fifth? Makes no sense to me,’ Brent said.
‘It does to me,’ Nathan said as he snatched up the lantern and hurried out of the room. Brent followed him and found Nathan already scrabbling at the paneling beneath one of the steps. ‘The fifth is a hidden compartment, under the fifth step, that my grandfather made,’ Nathan explained. ‘A place to store valuables and the like, we always called it the fifth, a sort of in house joke.
‘So does that mean…,’
Nathan interrupted him excitedly, still working the panel, ‘It means they were here. Rebecca, Jamie and Georgia had to have been here. No one else knew of its existence.’ Suddenly there was a slight click and the panel slid free.
Holding the lantern up, Nathan peered into the depths of the cavity, at first thinking it was empty, then seeing something right at the back he slid his hand in and withdrew a book. An ‘Any Year Diary’. The outer cover was damp, stained and spotted with mildew, the edges of the pages curled up and yellowing. With mounting excitement, Nathan flipped through the pages and was surprised to see his name staring out of the closely written words. ‘Oh my God,’ he gasped.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a journal, written by Georgia, and it’s addressed to me.’
‘You’re kidding?’
Nathans eyes kept scanning the pages. ‘Nope and they actually got down here. They really were here.’
Back in the living room, as Brent added more wood to the flickering flames, Nathan began to read the journal out loud.
‘Nathan, So much has happened and so much has changed since we were last together’. He read a little more and then abruptly stopped, staring at Brent.
‘What is it?’ Brent asked, ‘why have you stopped reading?’
‘Deedee is with her, she is writing about Deedee, Maggie dropped her off and…,’
‘She did?’ Then Nathan’s words registered. ‘Deedee’s alive? She’s been with Georgia all this time?’
‘She was at the time of writing,’ Nathan said, bending his head and continuing to read as beside him, Brent wept silent tears. After a time, he asked, ‘when was the last entry?’
Nathan flipped through the book, finding the last date. ‘13th of December, he said, then added almost to himself, ‘the day before Jamie’s birthday.’
‘You mean we missed them by four weeks!’ Brent said, then looked over at Nathan. ‘But why did they leave? They had plenty of food and firewood by the looks of it.’
Nathan shook his head. ‘I don’t know, something must have spooked them.’
He read on, bringing life to Georgia’s words, as they learned of the struggles, and the horrors they had faced. How Georgia, the children and a woman named Lola had gone from near starvation to apparently thriving, as they had learned to adapt to their new lifestyle. Of other people they had met, and their arrival in Bethel and finding his old friend Dave. There was talk of loose plans to leave, possibly in late spring, plans to head for San Diego. The final entry was filled with excited birthday preparations, a combined celebration for Lola, Josh and Jamie.
‘That’s all there is,’ Nathan said as he closed the journal. He felt suddenly overwhelmed by weariness. ‘Not a clue as to why they suddenly upped and left.’
Brent’s face split in a huge grin and he slapped Nathan across the back. ‘You need to stay positive Nat, after all, this time yesterday we didn’t even know if any of them had survived the disaster. At least now we know that they did, and we even know where they were thinking of going.’
‘Yeah, there is that,’ Nathan said.
Brent suddenly chuckled. ‘Though why in hell your wife would think of going there, is beyond me.’
Nathan kept his silence. He could only think of one reason his wife would be heading to San Diego and he didn’t like it at all. Not one bit. For he knew, without a doubt, that she would be looking for a boat.
Survivors of the Sun Page 73