The Survivors Book III: Winter (31 page)

It was a long, noisy, and anxious night.  Jasmine and Gavin stayed glued to Lily's bedside; eventually, we decided to drag a few extra mattresses in so that they and the doctor could sleep in shifts.  One by one, the others came to peek at the newcomers, but Jasmine wouldn't let anyone get close to her sister except for me and Doctor Cross.  In the end, we brought them some dinner, then closed the door and let them be.

Before bed, I gathered the members of the group that weren't otherwise occupied in the kitchen, and spread out a couple of big maps on the table so everyone could see them.

"We need to decide on our route south," I told them, pointing to the large lake in the centre of the map.  "Lake Taupo is just south of here, but before then we need to pick whether we want to follow the highway along the western shore, or the east."

"
What's the difference?" Skylar asked, shooting me a curious look.

"
The eastern route will take us through Taupo city, while the western won't," I explained, tracing the two routes with my fingertip.  "I haven't been through Taupo since before the plague, but from what I've heard it's a hub of gang activity."

"
It is," Anahera confirmed, nodding slowly.  "The location is perfect.  The lake has several feeder rivers to the south, which provide a constant supply of fresh water, not to mention the fish, ducks, and other game in the area.  There's always someone living there.  I sent a trading convoy there once, but they never came back."

"
What happened to them?" I asked.  Anahera just shrugged.

"
We have no way of knowing," she admitted.  "They just vanished.  It's possible they ran into that pack of racists you met heading to Arapuni, or perhaps they ran afoul of some other gang.  Maybe it was a pig.  It could have been anything, really."

"
But we know that they were heading for Taupo."  I stood back and sighed, rubbing my fingers over the bridge of my nose.  "That's not good.  From what I remember, the western route is just scrubland, with no towns or buildings to speak of, but it's been a while.  God knows what kind of condition it's in."

"
So, whichever route we pick is a gamble."  Anahera looked at me and tilted her head inquisitively.  "May I suggest we take the western route, just to be safe?"

"
Suggestion noted.  All right, let's vote."  I straightened up and looked at the others.  "All in favour of the eastern route, raise your hand."  I paused and waited.  No one moved.  "Okay, and in favour of the western route?"  Hands popped up all over the room.  I nodded, and leaned over to fold the maps back up again.  "Western route, it is.  Head to bed, everyone.  We've got another long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Most of the group drifted out to go find their berths for the night, but Ryan lingered behind.
 I shot a curious look at him, but he averted his eyes and pretended to be very interested in a smudge on the paintwork until the last person had left the room.  Only then did he finally glance in my direction, his expression unreadable.

"
Can we… talk for a second?" he asked softly, his voice barely audible.

"
Of course," I replied, equal parts wary and confused.  He'd been quiet since he rejoined the group, so quiet that sometimes I forgot he was there at all.  Given what he'd been through, his silence didn't surprise me.  What did surprise me is that he'd pick me to chat with.

Ryan drew a deep breath, and slowly lowered himself down to sit in a chair.
 "Thanks.  I don't really have anyone else to talk to.  I mean, there's Skye, but it's not the same.  And the others..."

"
I know," I said, seating myself at the table beside him.  Although I had every right to be angry at him, all I felt when I looked at him was pity.  "Sometimes it can be really hard to earn forgiveness.  You don't need me to lecture you about what you did wrong, though.  You already know that, better than anyone.  So, what did you want to talk about?"

Ryan fell silent, his gaze focused on a speck of nothing in the middle distance.
 I'd never seen anyone looking quite so forlorn, not even my sister on the day she had to bury her firstborn.  His hands tightened into fists, but I knew on some instinctive level that his tension was not a threat to me.

Suddenly, he looked at me and I saw the full force of his despair reflected in his eyes.
 "What do I do now?"

I frowned at him, not entirely sure how to interpret his request.
 "What do you mean?"

"
I mean..." he hesitated and glanced away again, his eyes drifting back out of focus.  "It's always been her and me.  Ryan and Skye.  Just the two of us against the world.  Then, it was the two of us and the baby.  I knew what to do.  Now it's all gone.  My friends don't want to know me, Skye hates me, and my baby's dead.  I don't know what to do anymore."

"
She doesn't hate you," I told him gently, reaching out to rest my hand over the back of his fist.  He tensed up for a moment, then slowly relaxed when he realised that my intentions were innocent.  He glanced at me, and I gave him a faint smile in return.  "No one hates you, Ry.  They just don't understand.  They will, eventually, but they need time.  If it makes you feel any better, I understand why you left."

"
You do?"  His expression changed to one of surprise, then I saw the faintest flicker of hope pass through his eyes.  "I thought no one did.  I mean, Michael..."

"
Yeah, I know what he said."  I sighed softly and gave his hand a squeeze.  "Sometimes, when you're faced with something so devastating that your conscious mind isn't capable of processing it, your animal instincts kick in.  It was fight or flight.  You didn't have a choice.  There was no one that you could fight, so you chose to flee.  It could have happened to anyone."

"
He called me a coward," Ryan repeated, darkness falling back across his face like a veil.  "He's right.  I am a coward.  I ran away.  He wouldn't run away.  If it had been you, then he would have stayed."

"
Maybe, but you're not him and you don't have to be," I told him firmly.  "You're different people, and you are entitled to react to a tragedy in the way that best helps you to cope with your grief."  I paused and glanced down at his wrists, still hidden beneath his long, black sleeves.  As gently as I could, I laid my hand over the hidden injuries, and gave him a look of pure sympathy.  "No one can know what they would do in the face of that much pain, and no one should have to find out.  Skye told me what you tried to do, Ry.  I hate to think about you suffering like that all by yourself.  I know that at heart, you're a good man.  Do you think it would help if we put aside a little time each day, just to hang out and talk?"

The young man fell silent for a few seconds, then he nodded slowly.
 "I think… I think it might.  I don't know, Sandy.  But maybe, yeah.  Maybe talking would help."  He managed a weak smile, and stood up slowly.  "I should go.  I'm on the late watch, so I have to be up at midnight.  Thanks for listening."

"
Any time," I answered.  I rose to my feet, and pulled him into a quick hug.  "You're not in this alone, mate.  We'll get through it.  Promise."

He didn
't seem sure what to do with the hug at first, but eventually he relaxed and hugged me back.  When we separated, there was a faint but genuine smile on his face.  Suddenly looking embarrassed, he ducked out of the room before I could say another word, leaving me to stare after him thoughtfully.

A few minutes later, Michael stuck his head into the room and called my name inquisitively.
 "Sandy?"

"
Yeah, I'm coming," I replied, shaking off my bout of melancholy to focus on the evening's tasks.

***

Michael and I took the first watch.  With all the downstairs doors firmly locked from the inside and Alfred's nose on the task, we felt secure enough to cut the watch down to just two at a time.  We set up a guard post and barricade at the top of the only staircase up to our area, and watched it with vigilance.

One by one, the others stopped by to say goodnight before they turned in, until the only people left awake were the two
of us.  Outside, the wind howled and moaned, but inside there was only silence and the occasional sound of snoring.  I lingered in the doorway to the main sleeping room for a few moments, enjoying the strange feeling of pride that came with it.

Those people were more than just my friends, now.
 They were my charges.  They looked to me for guidance and protection.  They trusted me to watch over them while they slept.  It was a good feeling, and I liked it.  I withdrew and went off to finish my patrol, then I returned to the barricade where Michael waited.

He glanced up as I sat down beside him and smiled at me.
 With that gentle strength that I loved so much, he drew me beneath the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, into the warmth.  The scent of his body was familiar and comforting, and it stirred something inside me the way no other man ever had.  I smiled back and leaned up to give him a kiss, then we settled in to silently watch and wait for midnight.

Eventually, midnight came and our replacements arrived to relieve us.
 We retreated to one of the beds left warm by their absence, and snuggled down to sleep.  Even as I was drifting off, I was acutely aware of one fact: Priya still hadn't come home.

***

I woke late the next morning, lulled into a deeper sleep than usual by the incessant pounding of the rain.  When my eyes finally opened, I realised that it was well past sunrise, and that everyone else was already up and about.

Maddy was the only one to notice that I was awake.
 She waved vigorously, then went right back to what she was doing.  She was sitting in a circle with the three younger Yousefi boys, pawing over a couple of grimy children's books.

I tried to sit up, but as soon as I moved I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my hip.
 Startled and still muddled with sleep, it took a second for me to realise that the source was Tigger, who was sitting primly on my hip, washing one of her paws.  I tried to move again, and she dug her claws in deeper in protest.

"
Ow," I complained.  "Would you knock it off, please?  I need to get up."

Tigger gave me the filthiest look in return, but she stood up and stretched dramatically.
 Then, she finally jumped off and trotted over to Madeline, her tail held high.

Despite the pain, the sight brought a smile to my face.
 I eased myself out of bed and indulged in a long, luxurious stretch of my own.  Every inch of me was still damp and sticky, but there was nothing I could do about it.  The rain was still coming down with force, so I was unlikely to dry off any time soon.

I put on my coat and shoes, and padded down the hallway to the ladies room.
 On the way back, I stopped in to the doctor's sick room to check on things.  Doctor Cross was out like a light, lying fast asleep amid a tangle of blankets.  Lily was still unconscious, and Gavin sat on the floor beside her bed with his head lowered, as still as a stone gargoyle.

I cleared my throat softly, to see if he was actually awake.
 He looked up, and held one finger to his lips to indicate silence.  I watched from the doorway as he eased himself quietly to his feet and snuck over to me.

"
Where's Jasmine?" I asked in a whisper, tilting my head towards the room.  "I thought she wasn't going to leave her sister's side?"

"
She wanted to go home and get some things," he replied, absently running his fingertips over the door to muffle the sound as he pulled it closed behind us.  "She'll be back in a bit."

"
Ah."  I nodded my understanding.  "What about Lily?  How is she?"

"
The doctor thinks that she'll be fine."  He smiled again, an expression of such open relief that it warmed my heart.  "Thank God.  Did I ever tell you that I lost my wife and my little girl to the plague?"

"
I think you mentioned it once, but you didn't seem to want to talk about it," I replied.  On a whim, I reached out to touch the back of his hand and offer him some small iota of comfort from my presence.  "I figured it must have been something like that."

"
She died on her sixth birthday."  He heaved a deep sigh, staring down at my hand as though seeing it for the first time.  "She was my life.  My wife had a medical condition, and the doctors told us that it was unlikely she'd survive to carry the baby to term.  She was so determined to try, even if it might kill her.  The day our baby was born, I honestly couldn't tell you which one was more beautiful: her, or my wife."

"
I'm so sorry, Gavin," I said sympathetically, squeezing his hand gently.  "You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to.  I understand."

"
I know."  He glanced up and gave me a smile.  "But I want you to really, fully understand.  I don't want anyone thinking that I'm just some old creep that likes keeping little girls around.  It's just… I see these kids, and I see my daughter.  I couldn't save her, but maybe if I save enough of them then I'll figure out how to forgive myself."