The Survivors Book III: Winter (20 page)

"
No judgement was intended."  Anahera smiled back at me, reaching out to touch my arm.  "I just took a guess.  If I was wrong, please don't take offense."

"
It's okay.  I'm not offended."  I shrugged and returned my gaze to the pelting rain.  "I guess I just don't know what I believe.  Part of me feels like no kind god would ever force us to go through this kind of pain, but another part of me wonders if it's not for the best in the long term."

"
Oh?"  Even without seeing her face, I could hear the curiosity in her voice.  "What do you mean?"

"
Well, you remember what it was like," I said, gesturing at the world around us.  "We took everything for granted.  It was just assumed that you'd grow up, go to school, get married, have a family.  We were so busy following the steps that society laid out for us that we never stopped to appreciate the tiny, every-day miracles of the world.  I don't know about you, but I notice it now.  I hold my breath and marvel at the way the rising sun creeps across the ground every morning.  I close my eyes and listen to the sound of the rain on the roof.  I marvel at the tiny miracle that can turn a seed into a plant that bears us food.  We've all seen so much death, but we're alive."  I paused and looked at her.  "Life is a gift.  I can see that now.  I don't think I would have before."

"
You are very philosophical for someone awake so early in the morning," Anahera answered dryly.  Her dark eyes studied me thoughtfully in the gloom.  "Sandy, what's wrong?"

I shrugged and glanced away, focusing on the falling rain.
 "It's something Javed said to me yesterday.  Do you remember when we first met, we asked you if any members of your tribe had given birth since the plague?"

"
Of course," she replied.  "You were concerned about whether or not the immunity would be passed from mother to child."

"
It turns out that we were right to worry," I said quietly, hugging myself against a chill that came from the inside more than the out.  "Javed told me that Ommie had a twin sister, but when she was born she didn't cry.  That she was alive, but… wrong.  From birth."  I glanced at her just in time to see the understanding dawning in her eyes.  "You know what that means."

"
The child was born infected?" Anahera whispered, a horrified look crossing her face, the kind of look that mirrored the way I'd been feeling since Javed told me.  "But the other children..."

"
Exactly.  Javed was born just before the plague, but Barry, Ommie, and Maddy were born afterwards."  I swallowed hard, and closed my eyes.  "I don't know what to do, Ana.  This changes everything."

"
No, it doesn't."  Her voice turned firm, and I felt her hand land on my shoulder.  I opened my eyes, and saw a look of determination on her face.  "We still have to have children, or our species is guaranteed to die out.  At least now we know the risk is real, so we can plan for it.  If it happens, it will be terrible but it won't be a surprise.  It's better to know there is a risk and face it bravely than to have it come without warning and devastate us all."

I had no answer.
 Nothing seemed adequate.  Anahera took the empty bowl from my hand, then she turned away from me.  "I must go help Elly and Skylar with the children.  Try not to spend too much time brooding on it.  We'll find a way to get through this together."

I just nodded silently.
 Once she was gone, I turned my attention back to watching the wild weather and pondering this cruel new twist of fate.

***

I stayed on watch as the sun slowly climbed higher in the sky.  Every so often, someone came over to check in with me and let me know the progress of our preparations to leave, but they had things well under control.  Hearing Skylar shouting like a drill sergeant never failed to make me smile, despite my dark mood.  It was nearly an hour after sunrise before the walkie-talkie in my hand finally crackled to life, and Rebecca's familiar voice cut through my reverie.

"
Testing… testing… hello?  Is this working?"

"
It is," I answered.  "Good morning, sleepy head.  I was starting to think I was going to have to come over and wake you myself."

"
We weren't sleeping," she snapped indignantly.  "It takes time to pack up your entire life, you know!"

"
I know, Rebecca," I replied, adjusting my tone appropriately.  "I was just teasing you."

"
Teasing?  Oh.  Oh!"  The radio crackled for a moment, which I could only presume was the result of her taking a deep breath and letting it out across the microphone without realising what she was doing.  "Sorry.  It's been a long time since I've been teased.  I guess I forgot."

"
Don't worry, I've totally been there," I answered, smiling to myself.  I understood better than most.  "You'll get used to it.  Just give it time.  Anyway, how's everything going?"

"
We're just about ready, but we had a question."  There was a long pause, then she asked, "Sandy, what do we do about the power station?"

"
What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"
I mean… do we shut it down?  Do we leave it running?"  She went silent for a few seconds, then Jim's voice came over the radio.  "Theoretically, the power station could run itself… well, indefinitely.  Most of it is automated.  It's only when the unexpected happens that it needs human intervention – like the tree."

"
Oh, I'm with you."  I paused to think about it, processing the pluses and minuses of each scenario out loud.  "If we leave the station running, there is a chance that something could damage it.  But we have no intention of coming back, and if we leave it running then that would potentially give us the ability to access its power as we travel south, which could save our precious resources.  I think we should leave it running.  What do you guys think?"

"
I think you're right," Rebecca said.  "We haven't really had to do much to keep it running all this time.  We just clean out the pipes occasionally, and keep an eye on the warning lights."

"
Okay, leave it running," I decided, nodding thoughtfully to myself.  "How much longer do you guys need before you're ready to go?"

"
Give us half an hour to finish up down here," she answered.  "We'll meet you at the warehouse when we're ready to go."

"
Good."  I straightened up, absently adjusting the unfamiliar folds of my coat around me.  "We're pretty much ready to move out now, so we're just waiting on you.  Let us know if you need extra help."

"
Thanks, but I think we're good," she replied.  "We'll see you soon."

The radio went dead in my hand.
 I tucked it back into its pocket in the lining of my coat, then buttoned it back up over my midsection.  My stomach felt a little upset and it bothered me, but I was used to nausea.  I had experienced it on a regular basis as a result of my odd, irregular diet.

"
Sandy?"

As if reading my mind, I suddenly heard Anahera calling my name.
 She paused and looked me up and down, tilting her head to one side.

"
Are you all right, dear?" she asked.  "You look pale.  Well, paler than usual."

"
Oh, it's the fish," I answered with a strained chuckle.  "I'm not used to having fish for breakfast.  I'll be fine."

"
Oh!"  A smile lit up her face, one that was so friendly and understanding that it immediately made me feel better.  "I'm sorry, I didn't think about that.  I suppose your folks aren't used to having fish for every meal."

"
I'm not used to having fish at all, to be honest.  I'm terrible at fishing," I admitted sheepishly.  "We'll get used to it.  Anyway, was there something you wanted?"

"
Yes, actually."  Anahera sighed heavily and came over towards me.  She sat down on the edge of a nearby table, and shot a thoughtful look at me.  "I want to go through Tokoroa."

I froze for a second, staring back at her.
 "Tokoroa was gang territory, last time I checked.  I was planning to go around it.  Why do you want to go there?"

"
There's a radio station there," she said quietly, watching my face as though trying to divine my thoughts.  "Like we discussed, the other people in this region deserve some kind of warning.  I did a bit of research last night, and found out that Tokoroa's station is the nearest one that we're likely to pass before we leave the Waikato."

I swore softly beneath my breath and turned away from her, staring out the door at the driving rain.
 She said nothing, just sat watching me and giving me the time I needed to think over the decision.  I knew there was really only one choice that I could make, but I didn't like it.

Unfortunately, she was right.
 Even the gangs included women and children, and not all of the men were terrible people.  They certainly didn't deserve to die a bloody, brutal, painful death.

"
Fine," I agreed grudgingly.  "We'll go through Tokoroa."

***

Even with all the delays, we were back on the road before the sun had climbed high enough to peek over the trees.  Michael and I led in the Hilux, with him behind the wheel and me hunched over our maps, plotting our route south.

"
We'll need to swing east at the next junction," I told him, tracing the line of the road on the map.  "Turn left."

"
Okay," he replied simply.

While he was busy watching the road through the deluge, I pulled out my radio and called back to the convoy.
 "Rebecca and Jim, I need you for a second."

"
We're here," Rebecca's voice answered within a few seconds.  "What's up, boss?"

"
Oh lord, don't start with that again," I protested with a dramatic groan.  "I just need to know what we can expect on the roads today.  How far east of Arapuni have you travelled?"

"
Not far," she admitted.  "A few kilometres at most.  We really had no reason to go that way."

"
Damn," I grumbled.  "I don't suppose there's any chance you guys went down Old Taupo Road, is there?"

"
No," she replied.  "Not since before the plague.  Sorry, mate."

"
It's all good," I said.  "We're just going to have to chance it, and hope for the best."

"
Well, if it helps, the roads we saw were in pretty decent condition," she supplied, along with the verbal equivalent of a shrug.  "Beyond that… I dunno, sorry."

"
Thanks anyway.  We'll let you know if we see any problems."  I clicked off the radio and set it down on the dashboard in front of me, within easy reach should I need it.  "Well, at least it doesn't seem to be a quake zone."

Michael grunted wordless agreement.
 The rain was coming down thick and fast, making it hard for him to see, so I fell silent and let him concentrate.  Rebecca was certainly right about the condition of the roads for the first few kilometres; they were in practically perfect condition.  We passed by a few old farmsteads, set amidst overgrown pastures and small patches of native bush.

A few minutes later, we reached a large intersection, with branches pointing out like the spokes of a wheel.
 Michael slowed down and glanced at me for directions.

"
Right," I told him.  "Turn right, and keep following that road until I say otherwise."

He nodded, and guided us around the corner, while I picked up my radio to convey the instructions to the rest of the convoy in case they were unable to see us through the gloom.
 I could barely see a dozen feet in front of the windshield, so I rolled down my window a crack… then I burst out laughing.

"
What are you laughing at?" Michael asked.

"
Corn," I answered, amused.  "More corn.  Always corn."

"
Food is food," Michael answered.  "Think we should stop and top up our supplies?"

"
Nah, we're good for the moment."  I shook my head, and planted my elbow on the window sill to watch the passing corn fields for any sign of danger.  Or anything else, really, but there was nothing to be seen.  The corn went on forever, or so it felt.  Suddenly, a flash of white plastic interrupted the monotony, but it was only old bales of sodden hay, wrapped in tattered plastic sheets.  Nothing of any interest to us.  Then, more corn.

I heaved a monumental sigh, and gave Michael a look.
 "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with…"

"
Is it corn?" Michael asked dryly, clearly sensing my mood was drifting into the silly.

"
No way!"  I feigned surprise.  "How did you guess so fast?"

"
I'm just lucky like that," he said with a grin.  "Man, it's starting to feel like one day the entire Waikato is going to be conquered by an army of cornfields."

"
Better cornfields than mutants and zombie pigs," I replied.  "At least we can eat corn."