The Survivors Book III: Winter (42 page)

"
Oh."  Michael went silent for a second.  The silence made me worry, but I could see on his face that he was just trying to process my spontaneous change of heart.

Beside us, Skylar laughed gleefully and gave me a nudge.
 "Well, look at you!  When did you grow a set of balls, sis?"

"
I'll have you know that balls are soft and squishy, and not really all that tough at all," I replied with playful mock-haughtiness.  "I'm quite happy with having a vagina, thank you!  They're much tougher than balls, and can put up with a heck of a pounding."  Skye stared at me, wide eyed, her mouth hanging open.  Suddenly, the reality of what I'd just said struck me, and I started blushing furiously.  "That… came out all wrong."

Around me, the car erupted in laughter.
 I barely heard Michael's reply above the sound of my friends teasing me.

He said one simple word, the one that I wanted to hear more than anything else in the world.
 He said, "Yes."

News of our spontaneous nuptials spread through the group like wildfire.  By the time we'd checked in with the doctor and been given mostly clean bills of health, everyone knew.  As soon as I stepped outside, Skylar grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the motor lodge where we planned to stay the night.

"
You can't see the bride before the wedding!" she told Michael in no uncertain terms, shoving me in front of her despite my protests.  Hemi and his friends appeared as if out of nowhere, and dragged my poor, limping fiancé off without another word.  Skye gave me a wicked grin, grabbed my hand, and led me off towards the township of Waiouru proper.  "Come on!  We need to find you something to wear."

"
Why bother?" I groused, though I knew better than to really fight her when she had her mind set on something.  "Michael doesn't care what I look like.  I mean, he sees me dressed like this every day."

"
But this isn't every day," she answered, dancing ahead of me with such enthusiasm that she almost tugged my arm out of its socket.  "It's your wedding day, Sandy-pants!  For one day, you get to be as much of a princess as you like.  And I am going to make you the prettiest princess of them all!"

"
And just how do you plan to do that, little sis?" I asked dryly.  "This used to be a military town.  There isn't exactly a bridal boutique here."

"
Maybe not, but I spotted a sign on someone's fence offering tailoring services," she replied.  "I'm betting that if anyone has dresses for us, it'll be them!"

"
Wait, us?"  I tried to stop, only to get almost pulled off my feet.  "What us?  Is someone else getting married?"

"
No, dummy."  Skye sighed and rolled her eyes.  "For you and your bridal party, of course.  I'm going to be your maid of honour, Maddy's the flower girl, and everyone else is… well, they want to look nice, too!"

"
Okay, this is getting way too complicated," I admitted, suddenly feeling nervous.  "I just want things to be simple."

"
Oh, come on, Sandy," Skye stopped suddenly and turned to fix me with an imploring look.  "For once in your life, relax and have a little fun.  This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, and I want to enjoy it with you.  Besides, if you want to rebuild everything that we lost, then you need to lead by example.  I've never been to a wedding before, I've only seen pictures in old magazines.  They're supposed to be happy – and more importantly, normal.  Don't we all deserve a chance to be normal again?"

I started to protest, but something about the look on her face made me stop and reconsider.
 Suddenly, I realised that she needed it even more than I did.  She needed to see me happy, and to share the moment with the people that she cared about.  How long had it been since any of us had been able to enjoy a wedding?  For all I knew, this might have been the first one since the plague struck.  That thought struck me as poignant, and important somehow.  There were going to be a lot of firsts in the days to come, and who was I to stop other people from enjoying them?

"
I… I'm sorry.  You're right," I admitted quietly.  "Sometimes it's hard to remember just how much my life has changed."

"
I know."  She smiled at me, an expression so vibrant that it felt like it lit up the whole world.  "Don't worry, sis.  You've got friends now.  We're taking care of everything.  All you have to do is enjoy yourself."

I took a deep breath to quell the twisting in my gut, then I smiled and nodded to her.
 "Lead on, then!  Let's go get pretty."

Skylar let out a delighted whoop and raced off down the street with me in tow.
 A few minutes later, we found ourselves jogging up the front steps of an ordinary-looking house, flushed and out of breath from our run.

"
This is it," she explained, panting.  "Melody and the twins went ahead to look for—"

Just at that moment, the door exploded open, and the three girls raced out to meet us.
 Their expressions startled me even more than their sudden appearance: all three of them were grinning broadly.  They'd been slowly relaxing over the weeks since they'd joined our group, but this was the first time that any of them had looked truly happy.  Before I could say anything, I was grabbed and half-dragged, half-ushered into the living room.

"
There are so many dresses!" Jasmine told us gleefully.  "In all kinds of different sizes!"

"
And there's sewing stuff," Melody added, her sun-browned face split in a wide grin.  "So we can adjust things to fit, if we have to."

"
We found one for Sandy already," Jasmine cut in, her excitement quite obvious.  She raced over to the big mound of dresses they'd gathered in the centre of the room, and pulled out a simple, elegant gown made of soft, cornflower-blue satin.  It was a tiny bit crinkled, but otherwise in perfect condition.

I was too stunned to say anything, and just stood there with my mouth hanging open while Skye raced over to grab the dress.

"Oh my gosh, yes!  This is perfect!" she cried.  She rounded on me, clinging to the satin as though it were the most precious thing in her life.  "You need to put this on."  She paused, her eyes wide.  "No, wait!  You're all ashy!  You need to go have a shower, right now."

"
Um, Skye… you're ashy, too," Lily pointed out.  She was quieter than her twin, but tended to have more well thought-out comments when she did opt to speak.  Now was exactly one of those times.

"
Huh?"  Skye shot her a wide-eyed look, then looked down at the dress in her hands.  Suddenly, she dropped it as though it had burned her.  "Oh, no!  Is it dirty?  Did I get it dirty?  I'm sorry!"

Melody knelt down to inspect the dress.
 "No, it's fine.  Nothing we can't dust off.  You two go get cleaned up.  There's a bathroom down that hallway there, second door on your right."

"
You're first, sis," Skye instructed.  She grabbed my hand and dragged me down the hallway.  The indicated doorway opened into a fairly ordinary-looking bathroom, with a bath, shower, and toilet all in the same room.  Skye looked around for a moment, and came back with a comb.  "Sit down.  Let's brush the ash out of your hair first.  I don't know how you deal with that much hair all the time."

"
It is kind of a pain," I admitted.  "I've been thinking of cutting it off, but I grew it out to honour Mum and… I'd feel weird without it."

"
No way!" she gasped, sounding genuinely horrified.  "Your hair is gorgeous.  I will not let you cut it.  Now, sit your ass down in that bathtub, and let me comb it out."

"
I can brush my own hair, thanks."  Laughing, I tried to grab the comb, but she held it out of my reach.

"
No!  I want to brush it," she replied with playful petulance.  "Like we used to when we were kids.  Remember?"

I paused and stared at her.
 "Wow, I'd almost forgotten about that.  How old were you?  Three?  Four?"

"
Four, I think."  Grinning, she guided me over to the bathtub and helped me to sit down.  With gentle fingers, she undid the elastic holding my hair in its usual thick braid, and gently unwound it.  "You must have been, what… fourteen?  I was obsessed with your hair for ages.  I don't remember why."

Suddenly, the memory came rushing back in force, and it left me laughing so much I could hardly breathe.
 "I remember!  You kept getting nits at kindy, so Mum gave you a pixie cut.  You hated it."

"
Is that what it was?"  Skye burst out laughing as well.  "I just remember desperately wanting to have hair like yours, and being ridiculously happy when you let me brush it for you.  I was such a weirdo."

"
Nah, you were a little kid," I replied.  My laughter faded away into thoughtful silence, as I delved back into those happy, innocent memories.  "You were the sweetest little thing, Skye.  Did I ever tell you how much I missed you when I thought that you were dead?  I cried for you so often.  I don't think I ever really recovered from the grief."

"
I know."  I felt her fingers in my hair like a gentle caress, and it sent a shiver all the way down my spine.  I sighed heavily and drew my knees up to my chest, letting her touch relax me.  After a few minutes of silence, she finally spoke again.  "There is one thing I've always wondered, though.  When we got separated, why didn't you and Mum come back for us?"

"
Grandma insisted," I replied.  A surge of grief rose up in my belly all over again, thinking about the family that I'd loved so much and lost.  "She decided that it was too much of a risk, with the riots already starting.  I think she was afraid that she'd already lost one granddaughter and that if we went looking for you then she might lose everyone else as well.  To be honest, none of us were thinking clearly at the time, and when she made the decision we just went along with it because at least it was some kind of decision.  People make stupid choices when they're in life-or-death situations."  I paused, and looked back over my shoulder at her.  "I'm sorry, Skye.  I wish it had happened differently."

She just gave me a sad smile, and gently guided my head back around to face front.
 "It's okay, sis.  Like you said, people make dumb choices.  We both made it, and that's the most important thing.  Now, sit still!"

"
Yes, ma'am!" I replied, sketching a salute.  Skye giggled, and went back to brushing out my hair.

When she was finally done, she tossed the comb into the sink and offered me a hand up.
 As soon as I was up, I realised why she'd put me in the bath; a cloud of fine dust had come out of my hair with every stroke, and the bathtub kept it from going everywhere.

"
In you go!" she ordered, pointing to the shower stall.  "And don't forget to wash your hair."

"
But it's cold!" I protested, shooting her a mortified look.  "And it'll never dry in time for the ceremony.  Do you want me to get married looking like a drowned rat?"

"
God, you're such a drama queen," Skye complained, rolling her eyes.  "We'll make it dry in time, okay?  Just wash your damn hair.  Today is a special day, and requires special effort."

"
But--" I started to say something else, but she cut me off mid-sentence.

"
No buts!  Just do it, little miss!"  She planted her hands on her hips, and gave me a look that resembled our mother's scolding face so closely that I burst out laughing.

"
Okay, okay!"  I held up my hands in mock-self defence.  "I'm washing, I'm washing.  Jesus.  You're so demanding."

"
And that's why you love me," she answered brightly.

She hopped into the bath and started
combing out her own hair, while I stripped down without modesty, and stepped into the shower stall.  The water was as cold as ice, but my body was a mess of bruises and grazes again and the cold helped to numb the discomfort.  The soap was so old that it was shrunken and crusty, but there was a clean washcloth sitting on a little shelf beside the door.  I made do with that, and it was good enough.

By the time I finished scrubbing my hair with lavender-scented shampoo and had let it soak under conditioner for a few minutes, I was shivering convulsively.
 Skye was waiting with a big, soft towel when I finally stepped out.  I didn't bother to ask where she'd found it, I just took it gratefully and wrapped myself up in it.  I was about to get dressed again, when I realised that my clothing was gone.

"
Hey!" I complained, startled.  "Where are my pants, Skye?"

"
We took them back to the convoy," she replied cheerfully.  "You're not going to need them tonight.  Melody!  She's ready!"

Melody appeared in the doorway with a wicked smile on her face.
 She grabbed me by the shoulders, and steered me back out to the living room dressed in nothing but that towel.  I spluttered in protest, but nobody seemed to care.  When I got there, I found the twins holding a small mountain of towels, and soon I was being dried off from every angle by enthusiastic helping hands.