The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn (3 page)

“Let’s get you somewhere comfortable.”
I beckoned them both to follow me and led them off toward the room next to the kitchen, which we’d converted into our communal living room.  The rain pelted down on the courtyard as we passed, and a gust of wind rattled the windows and doors so hard that it made all of us flinch.

We reached the living area safely, despite the weather’s best attempts to fling things at us
.  Once we were back indoors, I hung Anahera’s coat over the back of a chair and cleared a pile of assorted junk off one of the couches so that Hemi could lie down.  He protested weakly as his mother stripped him of his jacket and shirt, but by the time Michael arrived with the doctor in tow, we had his bandages laid bare.

“Hey, Doc,” Hemi greeted him with a lopsided smile.

“’Hey’, indeed.  Let’s get these bandages off and have a look at you.” Doctor Cross frowned deeply at the youth and settled down in his chair beside the couch.  Michael and I took that as our cue to leave.  We filtered back outside, with Anahera trailing behind us.

“You want a cuppa?”
I offered, gesturing towards our kitchen.

“After being out in the storm, I certainly wouldn’t say no,” she answered agreeably, running her fingers back through her damp hair
.  I nodded and led the way to the kitchen, where I set about making tea while Anahera and Michael sat at the table.

“How’s your sister?”
Anahera asked me in her usual pleasant way.

I froze for a second, halfway through setting a pot of water on the stove to heat up, then I turned slowly and stared at her
.  The last time she or any of her tribe had visited us was before the sickness, when Skylar had been heavily pregnant but more or less happy.

Actually, come to think of it, the last time I’d personally seen her was when she was beating the living shit out of the man who had brutally raped me years ago
.  Needless to say, there was a damn good reason that I was fond of her.

Anahera wasn’t stupid
.  She knew from the look on my face that something was wrong.  Her brow furrowed.  When I didn’t answer, she looked at Michael instead.  He drew a deep breath and looked down at his hands.  There was no nice way to say what had to be said.

“She lost the baby,” he murmured, so
quietly that I could barely hear his voice.  I didn’t have to, I already knew.  Anahera, however, went wide-eyed and her hands flew up to her mouth.

“Oh, no… how?” she whispered, tears gathering in her hypnotically-beautiful dark eyes.

“Skye got sick,” I spoke up at last, to help break the bad news.  “Really, really sick.  We think that she got listeria poisoning from something she ate.”

“Is she…?”

“She’s alive, thank goodness.” Michael frowned and shook his head.  “But the doctor couldn’t save her child.”

“Oh, the poor dear.”
Anahera heaved a long sigh and closed her eyes.  “She must be devastated.  How long ago did it happen?”

“About a week ago.”
I sighed as well – and then jumped in surprise when a gust of wind rattled a boarded-up window beside me ominously.  No one had it in them to laugh at my jumpiness today, not even me.

“May I speak with her?”
Anahera looked from Michael to me, as though seeking permission from us.

“You can try
.  She hasn’t been very talkative recently, but…” I looked at her thoughtfully.  “Perhaps she would respond better to someone who is a mother.”

What I meant but didn’t say, was that my sister might respond better to a mother who had already lost most of her children, and understood the pain of losing a child better than any of us could
.  I didn’t need to say it though; Anahera seemed to know exactly what I meant.

“I’ll go see her now.”
She rose from her seat, just as an almighty bolt of lightning flashed outside
. 
The lights flickered and then went out, leaving us in semi-darkness.  I grunted in annoyance and reached over to switch off the stove.

“So much for tea,” I muttered, and then I pointed Anahera in the right direction
.  “Upstairs, second door on the left.  She’ll be in her room, where she always is.”

Anahera nodded and left without another word
.  I looked at Michael and he looked back at me, then lifted a brow that I could barely see in the dark kitchen.

“You know, this would be a great chance to go spend some quality time together, if we weren’t all so depressed.”
He flashed me an impish grin, just in time for his face to be illuminated by another flash of lightning.  The humour got a smile from me.

“Well, it is good snuggling weather,” I agreed, shifting the pot of water to a safer spot
.  The rain was so thunderous that it masked the sound of his footsteps coming up behind me, so when his arms wrapped around me he took me by surprise.

“Let’s go have a snuggle, then,” he suggested, nuzzling the side of my neck
.  The nuzzle was followed by a nibble, then a kiss, and I was putty in his hands.

“Sure, why not?”
I smiled to myself as he kissed his way up and down the curve of my neck.  “Snuggles are, um...  very good for the soul.  I think I could use a healthy dose of snuggles.”

“I think we could all use a healthy dose of snuggles,” Michael answered, then he gave me a smile, took my hand, and led me out of the kitchen.

***

We settled for his bedroom, where we had a bit of privacy but also could keep an eye out for trouble along the upstairs landing
.  The wind howled around our little fortress, yanking our hair aggressively as we made our way up the stairs and headed for his room.  Well, it yanked at mine, since my hair was long; it barely ruffled his.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask.”
I looked at him as he stripped off his t-shirt and flopped down on his bed.  “How on earth do you keep your hair so neatly trimmed without the benefit of a barber? I can barely keep mine brushed.”

“A mirror, a pair of nail scissors and a hell of a lot of patience.”
His grin was so playful that I couldn’t figure out if he was telling the truth or joshing with me.  Luckily, my curiosity flew right out the window when he stretched out languidly, in just such a way as to make his taut muscles ripple beneath newly-tanned skin.  After that, I completely forgot whatever I was thinking before, enraptured by his teasing.

It never failed to impress me just how quickly he’d learned to push my buttons, considering that he’d never had a girlfriend before
.  Not that either of us had used the boyfriend-girlfriend words just yet.  Between the two of us, we had the emotional maturity of a fourteen year old boy – and that was only if you added us both together and rounded up generously.  We’d get there, though.  We were learning and growing together every day, and that was what mattered.

He grinned and patted his stomach invitingly
.  He knew I couldn’t resist, so I didn’t even try.  The breath exploded out of him as I leapt on him in a mock tackle, and we both went head over heels in a mass of tickling silliness.  A few minutes and a couple of muffled squeals later, we finally remembered that we were supposed to be adults.  Michael flopped on his back with an arm tucked under his head, and I snuggled up against his belly to enjoy the warmth of his skin.

Even though he was out of breath from our play, I could hardly hear his panting over the roar of the wind
.  It was getting stronger by the second.  I rolled onto my belly to rest my chin on his firm stomach, and watched the storm rage beyond the open door.

A disembodied branch crashed into the wall beside his door
.  It wasn’t a big one, but it hit hard enough that the sound of its impact made us both jump.

“Geez, it sounds like it’s turning into a cyclone out there.”
Michael frowned, absently rubbing his chin.  “Good thing we brought all that junk in.”

“It’s going to take hours to clean up this mess tomorrow.”
I sighed heavily, rubbing my cheek against his stomach.  “I hope Ryan isn’t out in this.”

“I hope he is,”
Michael spat the sentence with a vehemence that startled me.  He was a gentle man by nature, and I rarely saw him angry.  For him to wish suffering on someone was unexpected.  My brows rose, and I lifted my head to regard him quizzically.  He didn’t make eye contact with me, but he looked pretty steamed up.

“Aren’t I the one that’s supposed to be furious at him?”
I eased myself up to plant a tender kiss on his throat, right in the spot that I had learned through trial and error was his most vulnerable.

A sharp exhalation of breath was my reward, followed by the feeling of a strong arm sneaking around my waist
.  “I’m surprised that you aren’t.”

“Oh, I am.”
I nuzzled and nibbled at that tender spot, until his head tilted back to give me better access.  “I haven’t forgiven him, but I understand that he had to go.”

“
Mnngh…” He murmured inarticulately as I kissed a trail down the side of his throat and across his collarbone.  “He abandoned the love of his life when she needed him most.  I’ll never forgive him for that.”

“If there were more men like you in the world, then there would be a lot more happy women,” I told him, and then promptly distracted him with a play-bite, right on the nipple.

Michael yelped and stared at me with wide eyes, covering his ‘wound’ with his hand.  “What was that for?”

“For being you.”
I grinned up at him, and then leaned down to plant a playful kiss on his stomach.  Anticipation made his breath catch in his throat, but for now the kiss was all he got.  That, and a snuggle when I nestled back up against his side.  “I’ve got to mark you as mine somehow.  Unfortunately, people aren’t cats; no matter how much I rub my face all over you, it just doesn’t work.”

That got a laugh from him
.  “No, it probably wouldn’t, but you’re more than welcome to try.”

I gasped and feigned injury
.  “You’re just trying to get me to rub you in all the interesting places.  I see what you’re up to, sir.”

He gave me such a wicked grin that I broke down giggling
.  The wind took the opportunity to yowl mournfully and rattle our windows, sending an ice-cold gust tearing through our little nest.  I shivered and cuddled closer to him.  It was so dark I could hardly see him in the gloom, but just knowing he was there was enough for me.

“I wonder what the others are up to,” I considered aloud, and felt more than saw Michael shrug beneath me.

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what
we’re
up to, let alone the others.”

With a laugh and a poke in the side, I rolled onto my back to stare at the murky ceiling above us
.  “We’re snuggling, remember?”

“Ah, of course.”
His smile softened to one of affection, and I felt his fingers stroking my hair.  I relaxed and closed my eyes, enjoying the sense of closeness.

“You know, in retrospect I’m really glad I didn’t shoot you.”
I sighed and reached up to capture his fingers in my own.

“I’m glad I missed.”

I stretched out languidly, listening to the sounds of the storm raging all around us.  All the window panes were rattling, and I heard something creaking ominously.  A moment later, the sound of glass breaking downstairs made me jump, but Michael restrained me from rushing off to investigate.

“It’ll just be one of the downstairs windows,” he soothed, drawing my fingers up to his lips for a reassuring kiss
.  “They’re boarded up on the inside, don’t worry about them.”

“It could be one of those mutant zombies taking advantage of the storm,” I protested, but he dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.

“Even the mutant zombies aren’t stupid enough to be outside in this weather.  They’d just end up cartwheeling down the street.” His voice was so dry, and the image was so amusing that I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re always so calm and collected; I don’t know how you do it.”
I sighed heavily.  A thought struck me then; I turned to look at him quizzically in the semi-darkness.  “You did bring your uniform with you when we moved here, right?”

“Of course.”
He peered down at me, perplexed.  “Why?”

I smiled to myself
– he really had no idea about the power that uniform had over me.  I gave him a long, sideways look, and then I hid my face against his tummy before he could see me blushing.  “Oh, no reason.”

Why no, I didn’t plan to make him wear it when we finally got over our… hurdle
.  Call me a sucker for a man in uniform, but it looked fantastic on him.  Of all the cops I’d seen in my life, none wore it better.  Michael grunted inarticulately, like he didn’t quite believe me.  He always seemed to know when I was up to no good.  Cop instincts or something, I guessed.

Oh, but what about the…?

I sat bolt upright like a meerkat, and made him jump in surprise.  “I don’t suppose you kept the hat as well, did you?”

“Uh, I think so
.  It’s probably in there.” He pointed to a corner of his room, where a couple of bags were still waiting to be unpacked.  Part of me wanted to scold him for waiting all this time to get settled in, but part of me understood completely – you never quite knew when you were going to need to pull up roots and run.  We had settled in nicely, but there was no guarantee that we could stay in our motel forever.