The Survivors Book III: Winter
Read The Survivors Book III: Winter Online
Authors: V. L. Dreyer
Winter
By V. L Dreyer
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Credits:
Story by V. L. Dreyer
Edited by Holly Simmons
Cover Art by Alais Legrand
Graphic Design by Alyssa Talboys
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First Edition
All material contained herein is Copyright © V. L. Dreyer 201
4. All rights reserved.
The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, or used in the form of parody.
ISBN 978-0-473-29179-2
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For more works by this author, please visit:
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Foreword
The Survivors
series is set in New Zealand. In order to preserve the authenticity of the setting and the heroine's voice, this novel has been written in New Zealand English.
New Zealand English (NZE) is an off-shoot of British English, but the geographical isolation of the country has given rise to a quirky sub-dialect that is neither entirely British, nor Australian.
I have attempted to make this novel as easily accessible as possible for readers around the world by providing contextual explanations for most words. However, as the language variations are subtle and frequent, it is not always possible to do this.
A more in-depth article on the language used in this book is available on my website, where you also have the facility to ask me questions.
I still haven't quite wrapped my head around how my life managed to change so much in such a short period of time. Ten years ago, I lost my family and all of my friends to the devastating plague that came to be known as Ebola X. I've spent the last decade running for my life, always alone, constantly afraid, with nobody that I could trust.
This summer, everything changed. I met a group of good people. For the first time in my adult life, I've started to feel like I belong again. Like I'm worth something. I've found my long-lost sister, alive and well after all this time. I've found friendship, with Ryan Knowles, Doctor Stuart Cross, and even little Madeline. I've even found love, with a man named Michael, who makes me feel like there could be so much more to life than just surviving day to day.
A little over a week ago, we responded to a call for help from the Arapuni power station, where we met Jim and Rebecca Merrit, the two heroic survivors that have been keeping the power grid online for all these years. They needed help, and we gave it – but when we returned to Ohaupo we found our home in chaos.
A misunderstanding has left our home engulfed in flames. Even more terrifying, we've discovered that the deadly mutants from Hamilton have followed us home…
Chapter One
"
On the count of three. One, two, three – Lift!" I shouted. Right on command, we strained with every ounce of strength that we had, and the girder moved. First one inch, then another, then suddenly it came free completely. We shuffled the beam awkwardly out of the ruins of our motel, into the street beyond, and dumped it unceremoniously on the asphalt. Ash billowed up when it struck the ground, enveloping my filthy group in yet more dirt. It was starting to feel like I would never be clean again.
I ran my hand over my blackened brow and shot a glance towards the Hilux to check on the children.
They were sleeping now, cuddled together like five exhausted puppies in the back seat of the truck. In the front seats, two of the adults from my original group sat recovering from their night's ordeal, given an exemption from the physical labour due to their injuries.
The doctor was fast asleep, but Skylar was not.
She was wide awake, watching anxiously as we struggled to save as much as we could from the remains of our former home. When I looked her way, she caught my eye and waved tentatively. I smiled and waved back, then turned my attention back to the task at hand.
Despite everyone
's best efforts, the western half of the motel had been reduced to blackened rubble by the fire that had raged through the night. We'd managed to save the rest of our home, though, including the storage rooms where we kept the majority of our supplies. The burned-out areas were still too hot to get inside safely, so we were on a retrieval mission while we waited for them to cool down. Everyone desperately needed food.
Although we were really too busy to get to know one another, I had learned the names of our newest members:
Zain and Elira Yousefi. The names of their children were still a mystery to me, but there was too much work that needed to be done for me to worry about that right away. I brushed my hands off on my filthy cargo pants, and beckoned for Elira to follow me over to the truck.
By the time we arrived, Skye
's door was open and she was halfway out. She didn't get far, though – a second after she stood up, she put a hand up to her head and plopped right back down in her seat again.
"
I told you to stay put," I scolded her gently, though there was no anger behind my words. Skylar was my sister, my one living relative, and I loved her so much it hurt.
"
I'm just a little concussed, I'm fine," she protested, trying to stand again. This time I caught her and sat her back down myself.
"
Don't worry, you can help in a minute. This is Elira," I said, gesturing to the woman behind me, "Elira, this is my sister, Skylar."
"
Please, call me Elly." Elira bobbed her head in a half-bow. Despite the fact that her family were responsible for accidentally starting the fire, I had come to like her in the few hours I'd known her. She was a soft-spoken, no-nonsense woman in her mid-thirties, with wild brown hair and a faint Middle Eastern accent. "My husband and I came to this country with the intention of becoming Kiwis. I prefer to use a Kiwi name. I am very sorry about what my foolish husband and son did to you, Skylar. They panicked."
"
Yeah… I'm sorry we had to meet like that, too," Skye replied, absently rubbing the bruise on her forehead.
"
You'll make it worse if you rub it too much," I scolded her softly, reaching up to capture her wrist and pull her hand away from the bruise. Skye gave me a long-suffering look, but I just smiled back at her. On a sudden, spontaneous impulse, I pulled her into a hug. "Sis, I need you to help Elly get some food into these kids, please – it looks like they haven't eaten in days. There's a camp stove in one of the bags in the back. Can you two get it started? I'll bring you some food as soon as we find something that looks edible."
"
Okay," Skye agreed readily. We looked at Elly, who also nodded her agreement.
"
I cannot thank you enough for accepting us after what we put you through," Elly added, reaching out to take my hand. I glanced at her and found her studying me with eyes that shone with gratitude. "I thought there was no kindness left in this old world."
"
Just remember what I said," I told her softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
"
Yes. For the children, we must work together." She cast a glance at her sleeping progeny, and then she looked back at me and sighed heavily. "I would do anything to give them a chance at a better life."
"
And we will," I assured her. "Just remember that, so we can keep up the strength and determination to protect them – through the good times and the bad."
I
'd never been much of a public speaker, but over the last week or so I had found myself with the right words to say in the most unexpected moments. I guessed that my new-found eloquence was a side-effect of finding a goal that I really cared about: the idea of building a city, and bringing together the last survivors of the plague to try and craft a better future for all of us.
As I left Elly and Skylar and returned to the burned shell of our former home, I found myself wondering at the changes I'd begun to notice in my own personality.
I glanced around at the others, all working hard to salvage what they could from the ruins, and suddenly realised that they were all following my commands. It was bewildering to think that after ten years living as a recluse, I was becoming a leader.
Someone had to, though.
Michael had been the leader of the small group of survivors I joined over the summer, but he readily admitted that he hated being in command. He led because he had to, but he was happy to let that responsibility go to someone else, someone he trusted implicitly. I still wasn't sure how I felt about the way I'd just sort of fallen into the role, but at least I knew I could rely on myself to do the right thing for everyone.
Michael stood watch half-way between the building and the truck, looking tense and anxious.
I knew that he longed to be helping more directly, but I needed him to stand guard in case the mutants returned while we were unaware. I went over to check on him on my way back. He glanced at me when he heard my footfalls, and gave me a faint smile. "No sign of trouble."
"
That's strange. I didn't think they were intelligent enough to know when to pick their battles," I replied. I leaned up to kiss my fiancé softly, trailing my fingers across his cheek. We were both equally filthy, but even through the layer of ash I could taste the sweetness of his kiss. It reassured me and bolstered me up, even in the face of exhaustion.
"
I'm a bit worried about Anahera's tribe," he admitted. I shot him a curious look, before suddenly understanding dawned.
"
Oh, my God – you're right!" I gasped. A sudden stab of panic struck me right in the chest, and stole away my breath. "I didn't even think about them. They're alone and defenceless. They don't even have any weapons. What if the mutants circled around and went to their camp instead?"
Michael shot me a worried look.
"We should check in, and warn them."
"
I agree." I pulled my walkie-talkie off my belt, switched it on, and quickly tuned the radio to the frequency that we had established for communicating with our neighbours. As soon as the radio was in band, we heard a voice screaming.
"
Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there? Christ, we need help! Where is everyone?"
The voice was female, and although it was a struggle to make out her words, I could hear panic in her voice.
Behind her, we heard the crash of flesh on wood, and the screams and groans of people in pain. Then, a shriek. A deathly, blood-curdling shriek that sent a shiver down my spine like a bolt of ice. I shot a wide-eyed look at Michael. Bile rose in the back of my throat, but I fought it back down and took a deep breath to try and calm myself. I had to keep a clear head if we were going to help our friends at all.