The Survivors Book III: Winter (39 page)

I came up behind her and touched her arm.
 "Sis, I need a few minutes.  Can you get everyone moving?"

She glanced back at me, but something about my expression must have warned her off asking too many questions.
 She just nodded and shrugged.  "Sure, okay."

I couldn't find the words to thank her.
 I just nodded once, then I turned and fled back to my room.  Michael was already there, folding our things and packing them back into our bags.  He took one look at my face, and silently held his arms out to me.  I ran to him, buried my face in his chest, and wept for what felt like a very long time.

***

It was unusual for our group to do anything in a subdued fashion, but preparing for our departure from Tokaanu was one of those rare times.  Even the children seemed to sense that something was not right; no laughter accompanied their play, and everyone's smiles were tinged with sadness.  No one suggested that we force the old woman to come with us, even though we hated the idea of leaving her behind.  It was her choice, and we had to respect it.

By nightfall, the trucks were freshly fuelled and ready to go, and the bikes were strapped beneath a tarpaulin on a trailer that we'd scavenged from one of the nearby suburbs.
 The rain still hadn't let up, so it seemed logical to squeeze everyone into the trucks instead.  It was a tight fit, but it could be done.  The territory we were approaching was rough and dangerous, and the weather would make it even more treacherous.

We ate a quiet dinner, cleaned up after ourselves, and put ourselves to bed.
 Crying had left me exhausted; I fell asleep quickly, but my sleep was poor and troubled by dark dreams.  I woke up early as a result, feeling wrung out and exhausted, but indulging in a hot shower refreshed me.  Michael was still sleeping, so I dressed quietly in the bathroom, crept out into the hallway, and closed the door behind me.

Then, I turned around and almost fell over Doctor Cross.
 He jumped back and peered at me, a confused, sleepy look on his face.  "Oh, Ms McDermott.  Have you seen my granddaughter?"

"
Not since last night," I replied, glancing down the hall towards their room.  "Perhaps she went to the kitchen to get a drink?"

"
Oh, maybe…"  He yawned broadly, and rubbed his eye.  "I should go get my glasses."

"
It's okay, you go back to bed," I said reassuringly, patting his shoulder.  "I'll find her."

"
If you insist," he agreed without complaint.  I helped guide him back to the right doorway, then headed off towards the kitchen to check for Maddy.

There was no sign of her, or anyone else.
 It was well before sunrise, so everyone was still fast asleep except for the lookouts on the roof.  A quick call to them on the radio confirmed that the little girl hadn't left the complex overnight.  Fighting the rising concern in my gut, I headed out to check the pool, the storage rooms, and anywhere else I could think of, but there was no sign of her.

I was on my way back to raise the alarm and start arranging search parties when a strange sound caught my ear.
 I stopped and listened intently.  Someone was crying.  A child was crying.  The sound was coming from Room 25.  Netty's room.

Fear and concern twisted my gut.
 I raced to the door and tried the handle, half-expecting it to be locked.  It wasn't, though.  It popped open effortlessly, and the scene I saw was one that I hadn't expected.  Maddy was sitting on the floor beside Netty's bed, clinging to the old woman's hand and sobbing like her little heart was breaking.

At first glance it looked like Netty was just sleeping, until I realised that she was too still.
 The hair on the back of my neck rose as my instincts came to grip with the fact that there was a dead thing in front of me.  No, not just a dead thing.  A dead person.

"
Netty?"  I whispered, frozen with shock.  My eyes saw things, but my brain didn't want to understand what they meant.  There was a prescription vial on the dressing table beside her bed, and a folded slip of paper, but that just confused me.  I couldn't bring myself to understand what I was seeing.  "Maddy, what… what happened?"

"
She called to me," the little girl sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks.  "She called to me in my sleep.  She said that she didn't want to die alone."

"
No… no, no, no, she can't be dead."   Tears welled up in my eyes all over again, but this time they galvanised me into action.  I rushed over to the bedside, and leaned down to touch the old woman's cheek.  It was still warm, but not as warm as it should have been.  I knew right away that she'd been dead for nearly an hour, but that didn't stop me from crying out to her.  "Netty!  No, you can't do this.  What about your family?  W-what about—"

My voice caught in my throat, and came out as a choked sob.
 Maddy grabbed me while I was close to her, and clung to me as though desperate for contact with the living.  I put my arms around her and picked her up, but when I tried to carry her out of the room she wailed in protest.

"
No!" she cried, hitting my shoulder with her little fist.  "No, no, not yet!  I promised I wouldn't leave her alone!"

"
You already fulfilled that promise, honey.  She's already gone."  I struggled to keep hold of her, but she was a growing girl and weighed more than I could comfortably lift.  I gave up and set her back on her feet.

She promptly raced back over to Netty's bedside, and threw herself back down beside her.
 "No, she's still here.  I can see her, standing by the door!  I promised that I'd stay until she'd left!"

"
By the… what?"  I turned around, and stared at the door, but I saw nothing.  If the hairs on the back of my neck hadn't already been standing up, they would have just about jumped clear off my skin at that point.  "There's no one there, Maddy.  She's dead.  You need to go back to your granddad, I'll take care of her."

"
No!" she wailed, with a vehemence that made me flinch.  "She's right there, and she's talking to you!  Why aren't you listening?  Listen to her!"

"
I can't hear anything," I cried back, frustrated and scared at the same time.  "There's no one there!"

"
There is!"  Maddy burst into tears all over again, and pointed right past me at the doorway.  "She wants you to be careful.  She says that you shouldn't tell Mister Michael yet, because it would break his heart if you lost it.  She wants you to promise that you're going to be careful.  Promise her!"

"
I don't understand," I admitted, tears rolling down my own cheeks.  I shoved them away anxiously, and looked back at the door.  "I just… I don't understand…"

Maddy turned and looked at me, her eyes huge and glistening with tears.
 "You're pregnant, Miss Sandy.  You're going to have a baby."

***

The shock of that pronouncement left me speechless.  I managed to whisper some kind of promise about being careful, but that was it.  When the others finally came looking for us, they found Maddy and me sitting side by side on the floor, just staring in shock at the body.  I faintly heard voices whispering behind us, but I couldn't make out what my friends were saying.  Maddy looked at them, then stood up and went over to them.

"
I'll show you where she wants to be buried," she said, then I heard footsteps retreating.

I felt a warm body come up behind me and recognised Michael's familiar scent, but I couldn't figure out what was going on.
 His arms closed around me, but today there was no comfort in them.

Netty was dead, and I was pregnant.
 How could that even happen?  How?  I was taking pills to prevent it, but… a baby.  Oh God, I was going to have a baby?  Was that why I'd been feeling ill over the last few weeks?  I'd blamed the nausea on the head injury, or bad food, or car sickness, anything but… that.

And… and Netty… oh God, why?

Suddenly, I remembered the note sitting on her nightstand, beside the bottle of pills that had taken her life.  My hands felt stiff and robotic as I reached for it, and I couldn't quite convince them to grip it.  I felt Michael reach past me and take the note for me, but he hesitated over whether or not to give it to me.

"
Are you sure, Sandy?" he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.  "It won't make it better.  It might make it worse."

I just nodded dumbly, and reached for the note again.
 This time, he surrendered it to me willingly.  I unfolded it with trembling fingers, and stared at the elegant, flowing script.  The letters were beautiful and careful, with only the slightest indication that her hands had been shaking as much as mine when she wrote it.  Netty had obviously laboured over her last words to the world, to make them as perfect as possible.  I took a deep breath, and then read the note out loud.

"
'To my visitors, and especially to Sandrine McDermott,'" I began, fighting the fresh wave of emotion that came from seeing my name in her handwriting.  "'By the time you receive this, I will be dead.  I ask one last favour of you at this time: please bury me beneath the old cherry tree in the back yard.  Ten years ago, I lay my husband to rest there, and I would very much like to spend my eternity at his side.'"

Tears obscured my vision, and I heard a muffled sob escape my throat.
 I felt Michael's hand close around mine, and then his deep, husky voice took over where mine had given out.  "'Do not weep for me, my new old friends.  I lived a good life, a long life – far longer than an old blasphemer like me had any right to, really.  My husband would have scolded me, and told me that suicide is a sin, but I feel that this is my last opportunity to put my fate in the hands of someone that I think I can trust.

"
'I'm dying anyway; I can feel it in my bones.  This summer would have been my last, and I wouldn't have lived through the winter.  Despite that, I want to thank you.  You've given me a gift far beyond a little food and companionship.  You – all of you – you gave me the chance to remember what it was like to be surrounded by family again.  I know I'm a grumpy old chook, but seeing those children running around again has made me happier than I've been in a long, long time.

"
'Sandrine, we didn't know each other for very long, but I feel like I understand you.  I don't want you to feel guilty.  You've given me the chance to do something beautiful one last time, and I know that I can trust you to lay me to rest, and to remember me.  I give you permission to take anything you want from my supplies, if it will help you.  Take your people south, build your city, and know that I'll be watching over you from beyond.

"
'Well, that's it.  There's no graceful way to end this note, except to say goodbye.  I'm off for an adventure of my own, into the last unknown frontier.  It's time to find out whether my husband's faith was right.  If it was, then I guess I'll be seeing him again soon.  If not, at least I won't care anymore.  Goodbye and with love, Netty.'"

"
And just like that, another life is snuffed out," I said bitterly, my voice hoarse with tears.  "She didn't have to do that.  She could have asked us to stay."

"
There was no point."  I heard the doctor's voice from the doorway.  When I looked at him, I found him looking sad.  "She… she was suffering, Ms McDermott.  Cancer, I think.  It's hard to tell without the proper tools, but I know that she was in pain.  She had been consulting with me for a while, but… I couldn't cure her.  I just wish that she'd said something, so we could have all been here with her."

I looked up at the old man, struggling to make sense of what he was telling me.
 "Did you… did you give her the pills, Doc?"

"
No."  He shook his head slowly, his expression as numb and miserable as I felt.  "I don't think I could have, even if she had asked."

"
Of course."  I slumped down, the strength draining out of me.  Michael caught me, and hugged me tight against his chest, as if he could inject some of his strength into me through physical contact.  Somehow, it seemed to work.  I took a deep breath, and hugged him back.  "We should bury her, and then we need to go."

"
Let me take care of her," Michael said softly.  "I know that the two of you were close.  Why don't you go find something else to do?  I'll call you when everything's ready."

I wanted to protest, but I knew that he was right.
 I needed some time alone, to think everything over and digest it.  Nodding silently, I let him help me to my feet, and once I was steady I extracted myself from his embrace.

There was always too much to do and too little time, but at that moment I really didn't feel like doing anything at all.
 I went out into the courtyard and plopped down at the end of the pool beneath a shade umbrella, to watch the water and let my mind wander.  The sound of the rain striking the water comforted me, but it also struck me as sad.  It always seemed to rain on funerals, as if nature wept right along with us.

I was still sitting there staring into space when Michael came to find me.
 He wrapped me up in my coat and led me out to the freshly-dug grave.  I watched like a statue as my friends lay Netty's body in the hole, wrapped in her favourite blanket.  One by one, people stepped forward to say goodbye, but when my turn came, I couldn't find the words.