The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn

by Dreyer, V. L.

  “Lead on,” I whispered back, as much to reassure him that we were still following as for any real need to give him instruction.

  Our little convoy picked its way across the old, grass-hewn gravel that had once been someone’s driveway. Again I found myself worrying about Priyanka’s feet, but she didn’t protest at all. The flash of Michael’s torch beam cut across timber, and again I heard the sound of his boots change; he was climbing wooden stairs, and then walking across a porch.

  As loathe as I was to turn my own torch away from the dark forest behind us, we had to focus in front to make it safely up the stairs. I felt a hand touch my arm gently as I cleared the top step: Michael, reassuring me of his protective presence.

  “Watch the door while I clear the house,” I instructed. I felt more than saw him nod, then his torch beam cut away from us to scan the edge of the forest.

  I found the front door not far away, and when I tried the handle it was unlocked. I could hear Priya’s breathing behind me as I stepped inside and scanned the interior of the house by torchlight. The place wasn’t large, just a small, cosy home that had seen better days. To the right of the doorway I saw a living room with a couple of fat couches and a fireplace. To the left was a dining room and kitchen.

  Directly in front of me was a long corridor that led towards the rear of the house, where I imagined bedrooms must be located.

  “Stay with Michael,” I told Priyanka, then I crept deeper into the house to check each of the rooms carefully. Nothing stirred in the living room, kitchen, or dining room. I picked my way carefully along the hallway towards the rear of the building. One at a time, I opened doors and checked for hostiles, but I found nothing more threatening than an army of dust bunnies.

  At the far end of the hallway, a back door opened into darkness. I closed it quickly and locked it, then I hurried back to the front of the building. I found Michael still standing guard, and Priya hovering uncertainly between him and the doorway.

  “We’re clear. Get in here so we can lock the door,” I whispered to him. Michael fell back on my word, his torch still sweeping the dark forest. The moment they were both inside, I closed the door and locked it. Suddenly, we all felt safer.

  I heard Michael heave a sigh of relief, and I grunted wordlessly in agreement. A strange, dark house in the middle of nowhere was not my favourite place to be, but at least we weren’t out in the open any longer.

  “We’ve got a fireplace. That should give us some light.” I padded across the thick, dusty carpet and knelt down in front of it to see if I could get it going. “Honey, there’s a back door at the end of the hall. I’ve locked it, but I’d feel a lot safer if we could figure out some way to block it, just in case.”

  “I’m on it,” he answered, his deep voice disembodied in the shadows. “Priyanka, come help me? I’ll need someone to hold the light.”

  “Okies,” the girl agreed amiably, and I heard their footsteps retreat towards the rear of the house. Soon, there were sounds of things being dragged around, but I ignored them and I focused on getting the fire started.

  A stack of old wood still sat nearby, with all the fixings to get it going. After so many years indoors, it couldn’t have been any drier; the fire started easily and stayed burning with minimal effort. It didn’t give us a lot of light, but it was enough. By the time they returned, I had the fire burning cheerfully in the fireplace.

  “We found some blankets,” Michael told me, dumping them in a pile in the middle of the living room. “I’ll bring out one of the mattresses as well. We should be able to sleep comfortably.”

  I nodded my approval, and he hurried off. Priyanka stayed with me this time, settling down on the floor beside me to watch me poke at the flames. Without the breeze to blow away her funk, the smell of her hit me more strongly than ever.

  “You need a bath,” I told her gently. She tilted her head and looked up at me, clearly not understanding. “A bath – you know, a wash? You’re dirty.”

  I pantomimed scrubbing myself until she finally understood, but she misunderstood my intentions. Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked at me like I’d just kicked her. “I am bad?”

  “What? No, no, no – you’re a good girl.” I swiftly struggled to alleviate her fears. “You just need a bath, so you won’t get sick. I’ll help you tomorrow, when the sun is up.”

  “Oh…” The girl absently scratched at herself and looked down. “The dirty is bad, not I am bad?”

  “That’s right.” I reached over and stroked her hair; her expression relaxed at the touch, reassured. “The dirty is bad, it can make you sick. We’ll give you a bath, make you clean. Then you won’t get sick – and won’t be itchy either.”

  “Itchy,” Priya agreed readily, scratching at her arm. Up close, I could see a couple of little sores on her arm, and understood just how desperate for a bath she was. And clothing, for that matter – hers were just rags, so tattered that I couldn’t even figure out what they’d originally looked like. She could use a haircut, too. Her hair was so long that she probably hadn’t had one since before the plague struck.

  “You poor little thing.” I sighed as she cuddled up against me, staring up at me with those big, sad eyes of hers. “I promise, you’ll feel much better after a bath. No more itchy.”

  “No more itchy,” she echoed. Further conversation was interrupted as Michael returned, carrying with him a mattress pilfered from a single bed. He shoved it up against the wall beneath the windows and piled the blankets on top of it.

  “Bathroom seems to be functioning, if either of you want to ‘go’,” he told us helpfully, glancing back at us as he went about turning the couch and the mattress into functioning beds.

  It had been a while, so I did need to relieve myself. I guessed that Priya probably did as well, so I took her by the hand and led her off down the hall, where we took turns using the lavatory. I was relieved to discover that she was toilet-trained. At least that was one less thing for me to worry about.

  Afterwards, I showed her how to wash her hands with soap and explained in simple terms how important it was to do so. She was a ready student and didn’t argue, apparently content in the knowledge that grown-ups knew best. If only she knew that we were all just making it up as we went along, too.

  Illuminated by the narrow beam of my torch, we made our way back to our little campsite in the living room. Michael had put dinner on while we were away, and the savoury smell of fish cooking lured us to join him. The three of us sat in a circle around our cook stove until it was ready, then he divided it up into a bowl for each of us and handed it out.

  Priya didn’t even bother with a spoon. She just dove right in face-first, to our amusement. Now wasn’t the time to try and teach her manners, so we just left her to it while the two of us ate at a more sedate pace and talked quietly about the day’s adventures.

  “We should probably keep a night watch,” I suggested. “We didn’t really have a chance to secure this place before we bunked down, so it would make sense.”

  “I defer to your experience,” he agreed, popping a spoonful of fish and rice into his mouth. Once he’d swallowed it, he added, “I’ll take the second watch, if you want. That’s always the harder one.”

  “It’s sweet of you to offer.” I smiled up at him gratefully, since he was right. Waking up in the middle of the night and trying to stay alert was always harder on the body. “I won’t say no.”

  “I didn’t think you would.” He gave me a playful wink. We finished our meal in companionable silence.

  By the time we adults had finished eating, Priyanka was fast asleep. She just curled up on the floor like a sleepy kitten, without a blanket or a pillow. Between the two of us, we moved her to the couch and wrapped her in warm blankets to keep her comfortable, then we settled down on the mattress on the floor.

  Michael snuggled up against me with his head in my lap, while I sat upright resting my back against the end of the couch. I ran my fingers absently over his s
hort hair as he fell asleep, feeling a strange sort of contentment wash over me. Although it felt weird to be sitting guard while others slept around me, I felt a strong desire to protect them. Sleep would not come to me while I sat watch, keeping my family safe.

  After a while, I got bored with my own thoughts, and dug into my pack for the book I’d stolen weeks before. I’m still not sure what had driven me to bring it along but I had, so I made use of it. Angling the book so the flickering light from the fireplace fell across the dusty pages, I lost myself in a world of foolish fantasy romances and long-dead places.

  Every so often, a noise would disrupt my peaceful world. Something outside would creak, a gust of wind would disturb the trees, or an owl would hoot. Every time, it got my heart racing all over again, only to end with me chiding myself for being so jumpy. Once, I heard something that sounded like a footstep, but it faded before I could determine exactly what I’d heard.

  At around midnight, I felt Michael stir against me. As though awoken by some internal alarm clock, he stretched and yawned, then looked up at me with those fathomlessly dark eyes of his. “Any trouble?”

  “Nothing I’m worried about,” I reassured him as we swapped places; he sat up, while I snuggled down beneath the blankets, looking forward to my half-a-night’s sleep. Despite the odd noises, I felt content knowing that Michael was watching over me. He would never allow any harm to come to me while I was vulnerable, and that made me feel comfortable and relaxed.

  I nuzzled my face against his firm thigh and closed my eyes. Before I had time to ponder another thought, I was fast asleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I slept deeply that night. My dreams were full of knights, princesses, and beautiful young girls with dark eyes and long, Rapunzel hair. I awoke just after dawn, feeling warm and comfortable – until I realised that the firm thigh I’d been using as a pillow was rigid with tension. I looked up, and saw Michael’s jaw was clenched and his face was set in a mask of intense concentration.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered, jerked fully awake by the look on his face. He started at the sound of my voice, then let out a deep breath, as though he’d been so tense that he’d forgotten to breathe.

  “There’s something outside,” he whispered back. “I’ve heard it walking around out there for the last few hours. It hasn’t tried to get in, though. Seemed safer to wait until dawn before we go see what it is.”

  “Good thinking,” I agreed, easing myself up into a sitting position. “Let’s go find out, then.”

  Both of us had slept fully clothed that night. With Priyanka in the room, it felt inappropriate to disrobe – and neither of us liked to let our guard down in unknown territory. As reluctant as I was to leave the warm nest I shared with my beloved, necessity required it. We extracted ourselves from bed and found our weapons in the semi-darkness, then we headed for the front door.

  I peeked through the curtains that hung over the nearest window and saw nothing. Room by room, we checked each window to see if we could get some idea of what was out there, but we saw and heard nothing.

  Michael was ahead of me as we crept down the corridor towards the back. Suddenly, he froze and jerked a hand up to silence any questions I might have had. He tilted his head to one side, silently communicating that I needed to stop and listen. I did so. From the other side of the barricade, we could quite clearly hear the shuffling of feet. I opened my mouth to say something, but an unexpected sound interrupted my train of thought: a faint whine.

  We stared at each other in surprise, not quite sure what we were hearing.

  “Was that a dog?” I whispered. Michael hesitated and then nodded, probably for lack of any better explanation. For reasons that I couldn’t guess at, domestic canines had been a rare sight since the plague hit, but they weren’t completely unheard of.

  As if to answer our question, a low, pitiful howl came from the other side of the door, followed by more whining and whimpering. We both stared at the door, and I saw my own indecision mirrored in Michael’s face.

  “If it’s hurt, then we should help it,” he said, echoing my thoughts. “But, it also might just attack us on sight.”

  “There’s only one way to be sure,” I answered, shooting a glance at him. “We have to go look. I think we should go out the front and walk around, rather than move the blockade. That way we can always run back in and lock the door.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed with a firm nod. Together, we returned to the front end of the house. Priyanka still slept soundly on the couch, so we left her there and we headed out the front door with our weapons at the ready. I led the way down the front steps and swung around the house in a wide arc, treading lightly across the grass-hewn gravel. Now that we were in daylight, I could see that the little bungalow sat in a small, overgrown clearing amidst the trees; to the rear of the building, I saw a large, open shed that backed up to the house. It seemed like a safe assumption that whatever had been making the noise was hiding inside.

  Michael fell in beside me as we tiptoed around the edge of the building. I swung out wide to try and get a look inside the shed before we exposed ourselves in danger, but the long shadows of sunrise made it hard to see. I could only just barely make out the outline of the creature hiding within. What I did see was that it was leaning hard against the back door, and I heard it whining pathetically.

  It didn’t seemed to have noticed us even though I was standing silhouetted against the morning light. I glanced at Michael, then looked back at the animal and let out a whistle. Its head came up immediately, ears pricked, then it struggled to its feet with some difficulty. With slow, hesitant steps, it limped towards me, swinging its head slowly from side to side.

  When it stepped out into the light, I realised that it wasn’t sick, just elderly. I’m an animal person by nature, so the sight melted my heart. Michael seemed to feel the same way. He handed me his gun and knelt down, making soft clicking noises and calling the dog until it turned its head towards him.

  “Come here, buddy. Come on,” he called, snapping his fingers to attract the dog’s attention. It came towards him slowly, swinging its head back and forth as if trying to isolate the sound of his voice. A few steps closer, it paused and sniffed the air, then whined again and inched closer with its tail wagging shyly.

  Michael held out his hand and let the dog sniff it, which it did. The creature’s breath made wuffling noises between whines, and then it licked his hand. Michael took that as an invitation and reached over to rub the old dog’s ears, making comforting noises to keep it calm. As soon as he did, the dog’s tail started wagging frantically.

  “Doggie?” Priyanka asked from behind me, just about scaring me out of my wits. I glanced back to find her hiding behind me, staring at the creature with wide eyes. Her gaze shifted up to me, her expression one of apprehension. “Doggie will bite?”

  “No, I don’t think he’ll bite you unless you’re mean to him.” I extended an arm out to her. Priyanka ducked beneath it gratefully, and cuddled up against my side.

  Together, we watched Michael talking to the elderly canine, ruffling its ears and making comforting sounds. The dog’s tail wagged so hard I could practically hear the old joints creaking, but it seemed thrilled to feel a human’s touch.

  “You know, the doctor’s going to kill us if we bring home two strays,” I commented dryly.

  Michael laughed and nodded, keeping his voice low to avoid scaring his new friend. “But he doesn’t have a choice in the matter; he was my first stray and he knows it.”

  “I am stray?” Priyanka asked, looking bewildered by the comment.

  “You were a stray,” I corrected her gently, giving her a sideways hug. “But you’re not any more. Now, you’re our friend.”

  “Oh… stray means not friend?” Her brows furrowed in obvious confusion.

  “Not quite. In this situation, a stray is just a friend you haven’t met yet,” I tried to explain, using simple terms that her limited vocabulary c
ould understand. “It’s a new person, or a stranger.”

  “Oh.” Understanding dawned in the girl’s eyes. “Doggie is stray, but can be friend if no bite?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” I agreed. It was close enough until we could expand her vocabulary. Looking pleased at her new-found knowledge, Priya disentangled herself from me and crept over Michael and the dog. She knelt down beside them, staring at the creature.

  While Michael took over her education and showed her how to let the dog sniff her hand, I stood guard. I divided my time between watching Michael's paternal instincts coming out, and keeping my eyes peeled for danger.

  I had to admit, I was secretly impressed by his adeptness. The years he’d spent raising Sophie, his niece, paid off. Even though I had no interest in having children of my own just yet, some part of me found his skill with youngsters extremely attractive. Despite being so physically large with a deep, powerful voice, neither the child nor the animal seemed to be frightened of him at all.

  Eventually, I drifted off into my own thoughts while the others played, staring into the bush surrounding the clearing. Suddenly, a squeal of delight attracted my attention. I glanced back and saw Priyanka hugging the dog around the neck while it licked her face, tail wagging frantically. Michael laughed merrily, and even I found myself unable to resist a smile.

  The age of technological and capitalist pleasures was long gone. Now, it was the simple joy of a child’s laughter, of fresh food and clean water, and the companionship of lovers, friends, and family that brought happiness into our lives. As much as I missed my parents, I felt like we might actually be better off for it in a broader sense. The downfall of our species brought us back to our roots, to what we were meant to be before the Promethean lure of the modern age had turned us into something else completely.

  “Doggie need bath,” Priya told me as she disentangled herself from the old sheepdog and hopped up to her feet. “We have bath now?”

  “You first,” I told her, holding out my hand. The young girl raced over to take it and skipped along beside me as I led her back to the front of the house. Behind us, I heard Michael coaxing the old dog along as well. Soon, the four of us were safely back inside.