The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn

by Dreyer, V. L.

  When I hit the ground, I took off at a trot across the courtyard. Hemi had barely finished parking his bike by the time I stepped out the front door, and he was in the middle of trying to wrestle the basket off his bike without dropping both. I hurried over to help.

  “Thanks, mate,” he acknowledged with a grateful smile. I took the basket’s weight, and braced it against my knee so he could get the straps undone. The youth shot me another one of his impish grins while he was working, and looked me up and down. “You’re looking better.”

  “I’m feeling better,” I agreed, watching him worrying the straps to free the basket. “Definitely going to have a scar, though. Alas, my beauty is forever flawed.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think Michael cares,” Hemi teased. We both laughed at the joke.

  Once the basket was free, he took its weight and carried it inside, with me in the lead to hold the doors open for him.

  “How are the repairs going?” I asked as we made our way into the kitchen, where I helped him to lift the basket up onto the table. I’d learned from the others that the tribe had survived the fire physically unscathed, aside from a little smoke inhalation and a few light burns, but the damage to the buildings was extensive.

  Hemi blew out a sharp breath and shook his head. “Not well, eh. A lot of our supplies got damaged. We’ve got plenty of food, but we’re running low on construction materials – lumber, nails, tools, that kind of thing. I mean, we got plenty of trees so we can get lumber no problem, but it’s hard to cut them down when all our saws are melted.”

  “Damn, that’s rough. I guess that’s why you’re here, huh?” I gestured to the basket. Hemi nodded and gave me a wry smile.

  “We need as many hands as we can get for the repairs, so it’s easier to trade than scavenge. You guys are the closest,” he admitted readily, then heaved a deep sigh. “Mum thinks that Lee’s boys did it on purpose. They lit the fire where they knew it would cause us the most grief, to destroy all the stuff we can’t replace. Bastards.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised.” I heaved a matching sigh and gestured for him to sit down. “You know, I didn’t even know that guy’s name until you just said it? We’ll help, of course. You want a drink before we get started?”

  Hemi nodded, so I fetched him one of the bottles of purified water we kept stocked up on at all times. He took it gratefully, popped the lid and took a swallow before continuing. “Thanks. We’re happy to trade food for tools. I brought as much as I could carry, but we’ll bring more over time. Even if we can just borrow some tools until we find our own to replace them, that would really save our hides.”

  “Don’t worry, mate. I’ve got you covered,” I reassured him as I settled down in a chair across the table from him. “I’ve got this place all mapped out so I know exactly where we can find what you need. Did your mum give you a list?”

  “Yeah.” Hemi fished a crumpled scrap of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me. I read over it quickly and nodded, confident I could find what they needed in short order.

  “This is all basic stuff, no worries. You give me a couple of hours and I’ll have what you need, okay?”

  Hemi nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, man – sweet as.”

  “I’ll move faster on my own, so you can stay here,” I told him as I rose back to my feet. I caught his glance towards the door, and hurried to hide my smile behind my hand. “Go on, then. She’s probably in the common room.”

  “Cheers, mate!” Hemi waved, then rushed off with unseemly haste, leaving me chuckling to myself.

  The kid was transparent as glass, but I wasn’t complaining. Hemi was a nice boy, and Skye could use a nice boy to help her forget the one that had abandoned her. If there was one thing that Michael had taught me, it was that having someone to love you was a very important part of the human condition. It didn’t matter whether it was the love of a friend, the love of a sweetheart, or the love of family – it was important just to be loved.

  Chapter Ten

  I don’t know how Michael managed to find me, but he did. Apparently, that man either had a hell of a nose for his lady, or he was a way better tracker than I gave him credit for. I was bottoms up in the back of a dusty garage at the time, rooting around for a saw that I was sure I’d seen six weeks before.

  He managed to take me completely by surprise; I damn near jumped out of my skin when I emerged from the garage with my prize, and came face to face with an unexpected human figure in the doorway. It took me a second to realise that he was just standing there, with a grumpy look on his face.

  “Why the long face, sour-puss?” I enquired, picking my way across the overgrown yard to retrieve my sack of miscellaneous goodies from where I’d left it.

  “I got pooped on,” he answered dourly.

  “Eh, what?” I turned and stared at him over my shoulder, then I suddenly realised that he’d changed shirts since I last saw him. “Oh, did a bird get you, sweetie? I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “That was my favourite shirt, too.” He gave me the kind of pout that made me go weak at the knees, then wandered over to help me with my sack of treasures.

  “It’s just a little poo, it’ll come out in the wash,” I reassured him with a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, though it was very hard to keep a straight face. “Well, since you’re here, you can help. Anahera’s group are in need of tools and stuff to help them rebuild. I’ve already got most of it, but there’s a few more things I need to grab.”

  “I’m always happy to help. Lead on, my love.” His grumpy look faded away completely, and he gave me one of his sweet, lopsided smiles. When I leaned down to pick up the sack, he stopped me with a gentle touch so that he could take it instead. “Don’t worry, I’ve got that. What am I good for if I let you carry all the heavy stuff?”

  “Well, if you insist. Thank you, honey.” I leaned up to press a kiss against his lips, then turned and led the way towards the last stash we needed. Although my inner feminist might have protested that I didn’t need a big, strapping man to help me, she was swiftly silenced by the part of me that was just happy to have him close to me. I didn’t need Michael’s help, I wanted it. That was the difference. I wanted it, because I wanted his company. After spending ten years on my own, who could really blame me?

  We walked together in companionable silence, the tromping of our boots across the overgrown fields the only sound that interrupted the birdsong all around us. The singing stopped when we passed beneath the boughs of a tree, but it started again the moment that we moved on. The sound of it made me smile, but it also made me think.

  “I wonder if we’ll ever really be able to salvage what we used to have,” I pondered out loud. “Do you think one day, in ten or twenty generations, we’ll have towns again? Cities?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael said, his deep voice close behind me. “I hope so. I hope that we’ll have the chance to learn from our mistakes.”

  “Which mistake is that?” I asked, shooting a grin over my shoulder. “‘Don’t take Mother Nature for granted, because she’s a vindictive bitch?’”

  He chuckled and nodded. “That, and don’t take the people you love for granted, either.”

  “I think that’s the most important thing,” I agreed, pausing for a moment to step carefully over a few fallen fence posts as we crossed the dividing line between properties. “You never know when you’ll lose them. In retrospect, I guess I was one of the lucky ones. At least I had the chance to say goodbye.”

  “I’d give anything for that chance,” he said softly, his voice huskier than usual. I glanced back again, concerned I might have upset him, but instead of tears I saw a wistful sort of sadness in his eyes. When he realised I was looking at him, he glanced up and offered a sheepish smile. I returned his smile, and led the way across an overgrown field that had once been someone’s back yard.

  With no one to trim it, the grass had grown thick and lush. It was waist-high now and difficult to wade through, but at least
the mud had dried up. Come winter, the place would practically turn into a swamp. I silently prayed that I would not need to come through there during the wet season. Mud and I were not close friends.

  I ducked beneath a lopsided clothesline and slogged the rest of the way across the yard towards the little shed at the back of the property. It was a small thing, no more than a couple of meters wide and about the same deep, but I had found a treasure trove of tools inside the last time I’d explored the area. The door swung on rusted hinges, squeaking faintly in protest with every gust of wind.

  “I thought I closed that,” I mumbled to myself, but I shrugged it off – there were doors askew and windows broken all over the place thanks to the storm.

  I shoved the door open the rest of the way and quickly checked that there was nothing inside, then made my way into the gloom. Everything was as I left had it. I gathered what I needed without any problems, then picked my way back out to join Michael. I found him looking perturbed, staring down at the ground near his feet with a strange expression on his face.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Blood, I think.” He didn’t sound entirely certain. When I got closer, I could see why. The patch he’d spotted was old, dry and brown; it was hard to tell if it had been blood or just mud. Whatever it had been, it was large and spread over a sizable area. The grass had been crushed flat in the area, but no trace remained of whatever might have died there except for the blood – if it was blood.

  “That’s creepy, but it looks old. At least a couple of weeks.” I shook my head and then looked up at him. “Whatever did that must be long gone by now. Let’s go home.”

  “Agreed.” Michael nodded, then he took my hand and together we left the scene and returned to our motel.

  ***

  We made it home without any issues. I led the way back inside, and headed to the kitchen where Hemi’s basket still waited patiently. Michael frowned when he saw it and shot me a look.

  “Are you really going to make them give us stuff in exchange for things they need?” he asked, his tone of voice disapproving. I bristled instinctively. I hated it when he used that tone of voice on me.

  “I’m not going to ‘make’ them do anything, but that is how trade works,” I said, dumping my armful of goods down on the table beside the basket. “We have something they want, they have something we want, and so we swap. It was their idea to offer a trade, and they’ve always been willing to trade fairly.”

  He didn’t have an answer to that. When I glanced at him again I saw a strange expression on his face. Once more, I was forced to acknowledge that he was new to the world outside his safe little bunker. I reached out to him, to place my hand upon his arm.

  “This is how it works out here, sweetie.” I softened my tone and rubbed his arm gently. “Trade and barter. We’re lucky that Anahera and her group are honourable, but not everyone is like that. Many people will take whatever you offer them and run, then come back with a bunch of friends who ‘need help’ as well. They’ll take everything you have and leave you with nothing.” I ran my hand all the way up his arm to caress the side of his neck, gazing up at him. “If everyone were as generous as you, this world would be a much nicer place – but they’re not.”

  He sighed and looked down, silently acceding the point to me. “It’s just… it feels wrong, taking things from people in need. Particularly our friends.”

  “It’s not wrong,” I reassured him, trailing my fingers up over his cheek. “They offered us things they have in plenty – they’re not going to suffer for losing them. That’s how trade works. You save up things you find that other people might need, and when you need something, you barter with stuff you can afford to lose. It’s also a little bit about pride, too. Some people don’t like accepting charity. They’d rather have a fair trade, or work for what they’re given. Trust me, I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

  I smiled up at him. He smiled back, nodding his agreement. “I defer to your experience, my love.”

  “Good.” I stepped back so he could set his burden down, and then I started arranging the assorted tools we’d collected on the table beside the basket. “While we’re on the subject though, I think we should give one of our walkie-talkies to Hemi to take back with him. It’s a long way to run to check on one another, and it would be nice to have some way to connect with our neighbours if we need them, or they need us.”

  “That makes sense to me,” he agreed. “Good thinking, Batman.”

  I started to reply, but before I could I suddenly found myself swept up in his arms, being cuddled vigorously, and kissed all up and down the side of my neck. The gesture took me so much by surprise that he had me well and truly caught before I had any chance of escaping it. I squeaked in surprise and wriggled in his arms, but I have to admit that I didn’t fight very hard.

  Of course, it was right at that moment that Hemi came tearing into the room with his arms flailing like a demented windmill, frantically calling our names. He skidded to a halt when he caught us mid-canoodle, staring at us wide-eyed. Michael released me so suddenly that I almost fell over.

  “Gah! I don’t need to see that!” Hemi yelped, covering his eyes with his hands. Once I recovered from the shock, I laughed merrily.

  “Then don’t come running in unannounced,” I teased him. “‘That’ is fun, so we’re doing it every chance we get.”

  Poor Hemi made a pathetic whining noise like an injured puppy, but he was a good-natured youth and was soon laughing right along with us. When the levity faded, he suddenly seemed to remember why he’d been looking for us to begin with.

  “Oh, oh, I almost forgot. Skye told me to find you guys. She got a signal – come on!” Hemi beckoned to us excitedly then rushed from the room. Michael and I exchanged a look, and then took off after him.

  That signal could mean more survivors, or it could mean nothing. There was only one way to find out.

  ***

  The three of us huddled behind Skylar as she struggled to tune in the signal. We could hear the sound of a voice speaking, but it was too faint to make out the words.

  “The reception might be better upstairs,” I suggested. “There might be something blocking the signal down here.”

  Skye nodded, leaping to our feet. With our combined efforts, we carried the radio upstairs, along with the little card table and chair she’d acquired to sit it on. Along the way, the doctor stuck his head out to see what we were doing. Soon he and Madeline joined our entourage as well. A few minutes later, all six of us were huddled around the little radio while Skye searched for the signal she’d heard earlier.

  This time when she found it, it came through clearly enough for us to understand the words. The signal strength wasn’t great, but it was enough.

  “—any able-bodied survivors in the Waikato region. Urgent assistance is required. Attention any able-bodied survivors, please respond…”

  “He sounds exhausted,” I said, glancing at the ring of faces around me.

  “Can you answer him?” Michael asked.

  “I think so. Let me try.” Skye stared at the radio thoughtfully for a moment, then she fussed with it a bit and spoke awkwardly into the small microphone. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

  “Affirmative, we can hear you!” The reply came almost immediately, and the voice sounded very relieved. “Oh, thank God. We were starting to think there was no one out there.”

  “Sorry, we only just detected your signal. It’s very faint,” Skye replied, then glanced over her shoulder at us. “Where are you located, mate? What’s wrong?”

  “Arapuni Power Station,” the voice replied, then there was a pause. The silence dragged on for so long that we thought we’d lost them, but then they returned. This time, the voice was female. “Please, we need assistance. We’ve been doing our best to keep the station going, but a tree came down in the last storm and it’s blocked the intakes. We had to shut the power station down and we can’t clear it alone.”


  “So that’s why the power’s still off.” I looked up again and caught Michael’s eye. He nodded silently, acknowledging what I was thinking. We’d all wondered why the grid hadn’t come back online yet.

  “Well, if we ever want to have another hot shower again, we should see if we can help them,” Skye said. There were nods of agreement all around – even from Hemi. Michael hurried out to go find our maps, while Skye spoke into the microphone again. “What kind of help do you need?”

  “Muscle-power, mostly,” the voice replied. “We have all the equipment we need, but we just don’t have enough hands. It’s just me and my husband here.” There was another short pause, and then the woman’s voice dropped down low. “We could use medical supplies, if you have any to spare.”

  There was a fuss in the background and we heard the male voice protesting, but the female ignored him. “My husband broke his arm trying to clear the block. I trained as a nurse, so I’ve set the break, but we have no painkillers or antibiotics of any kind. I’m concerned about infection.”

  Skye looked at me for instruction, as de facto leader in Michael’s absence. I thought it over for all of half a second before I gave her a nod and gestured to the doctor, who also agreed immediately. Skye clicked the microphone on again, and spoke into it once more. “We have a doctor with us. I’m going to put him on to talk to you, so he can work out if we can help you.”

  We could all hear the voice thanking us profusely as Skye stepped back, and Dr Cross took her place. Michael returned a moment later, so we filled him in on the conversation he’d missed as we spread out the maps and located the point in question.

  “Here. The power station will be close to Arapuni township,” I said, my finger falling on a point about 50 kilometres from our current position. “It’s a long way, but if we want power back then we have to help. Plus, it’s the right thing to do.”