The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn (5 page)

“Life is short and brutal in this day and age,” Anahera said with a shrug
.  “You two are clearly besotted with one another.  God only knows how much time you’ll have together.  You should make the most of it while you can.”

“But, we haven’t even… you know, done ‘it’,” I stumbled, feeling completely out of my element; I’d never discussed my personal issues with anyone besides Michael.

Anahera’s brows shot up.  “Really now? I never would have guessed.” She paused to think about it, then a flicker of understanding passed through her eyes.  “Ah, but I suppose I should have.  Alas, that is something I cannot advise on.”

“It’s okay.”
I looked down at my feet, pretending to be fascinated by anything that didn’t involve making eye-contact with anyone.  I heard rather than saw when Anahera stood up and stretched, in a rustling of cloth and denim.

“I’m sure the two of you will resolve that matter in your own time, when you’re ready,” she said
in a gentle, maternal tone.  “For now, I believe I shall retire.  Assuming the storm passes by morning, we have a journey ahead of us.”

Then she was gone, stepping around our mess to leave Michael and me both feeling awkward and trying very hard not to look at one another
.  After the door clicked closed behind her, it left the room nearly silent.  The only sound was the shuffling of paper and the clicking of metal and plastic pieces, barely audible over the raging storm outside.

Once we put the last of the pieces away, I slid the lid back onto the box and shoved it into a corner where it was out of the way
.  Finally, I glanced up and found Michael watching me with a look of pure confusion on his face.  Our eyes met for a fraction of a second before he looked away, studying his hands with great interest.  Neither of us knew what to say.

Finally, he broke the silence
.  “Do you… think she’s right?”

“No, I don’t think so.”
I drew a deep breath and let it out as a sigh.  Marriage? Good God, I barely knew the man.  “It’s way too soon.  I mean, yes I love you, but… I think we need to give it time.  We have no idea where this might go.  Marriage is a huge commitment, and we have no idea what will happen once the hormones wear off.”

“Yeah…” he trailed off, staring thoughtfully down at the ground
.  Suddenly, he looked up at me with the strangest look on his face.  “But the possibility is still open for the future, right?”

My heart just about broke at the expression on his face
.  I smiled and shuffled over to cuddle up against him.  “Definitely still open, when the time is right.”

His expression relaxed, and his arms slid around me to hold me close
.  “Okay.  Good.  You know, one day.  Just in case.”

“Right.”
I hid a smile against his broad chest.  Sometimes he could be such a little boy.  Sweet, but completely transparent and utterly without guile.  It was all part of his charm, though.  Thirty-two years old and built like a brick shithouse, but so emotionally inexperienced that I could see right through him.  At least I had the experiences of my rambunctious youth to fall back on.  As far as I could tell, he’d never even kissed another woman unless you included his mother.

As though reading my mind, I felt strong fingers cup my chin again and then his lips closed over mine
.  He had learned a lot in the time since we’d met, and apparently he was determined to show me just how much.  I definitely wasn’t complaining.  Practice makes perfect – and we were getting a lot of practice.

We spent a noisy night huddled in our room, hiding from the storm’s wrath.  Every so often something would bang, or crash, or rattle and wake us up, so by the time morning came none of us felt like we’d gotten much sleep.

The sunrise was a beautiful thing, though
.  The world took on a rosy pallet that cast tendrils of colour across the arc of the heavens.  Clouds still marred the sky, but the sunrise turned them from grey to pink, and made them seem impossibly beautiful.

I awoke nestled in Michael’s arms, like I did every morning, except this time the dawn light had painted our room in lovely colours
.  I stretched and rolled over, studying Michael’s profile in the vivid dawn light.  He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping, so young and vulnerable.  A surge of hot emotion welled up in my belly; I found myself struggling to stay in control.

I lay my head back down on the pillow beside him, watching him sleep
.  With one hand, I reached up and trailed a finger along his jaw, feeling the fascinating roughness of his stubble beneath my fingertip.  He grimaced in his sleep, wrinkled up his face and mumbled something I couldn’t hear, then let out a deep breath and relaxed again.  Something deep inside me quivered.

Soon
, I promised it, and this time I really meant it.  For all the pain I’d suffered, no matter how broken my psyche was, I really did love that man with an intensity that almost hurt.  We lay together in sleep, nude and yet innocent, comfortable with one another in a way that I’d never experienced before.

I slipped a hand beneath the blankets and trailed my fingers down his chest
.  His skin was so smooth, with a light dusting of dark curls in just the right places.  My fingers drifted lower, tracing the line of hair that adorned his belly just below the navel.  Thoughtful and inquisitive, I followed it lower…

I suddenly realised that he was aroused, and the discovery sent a flash of heat tingling through my limbs
.  Was he dreaming about me? I often dreamed of him, of all the wonderful things we would one day do together.  Equally often, I woke confused and excited, with my most basic animal instincts at war against learned behaviour.

Oh, but he wasn’t asleep anymore
.  His dark eyes were open just a sliver, watching my face.  He shifted and drew me closer, burying his face in the curve of my neck.

“Taking advantage of me in my sleep again?” he murmured, his voice so soft and deep that it sent a shiver down my spine
.  Suddenly, his arms tightened and he had me on my back, belly to belly, chest to chest.  His lips closed on mine, a hot, deep kiss that told me so much more than he meant it to.  I understood intuitively that yes, he had been dreaming about me.

I had no chance to answer his accusation; my breath was stolen away by the passion of that kiss
.  He had me pinned, his hands roving across my body, and yet I felt no fear of him.  My policeman, my lover.  He would never hurt me.  I could feel his body pressed against me, but true to his word, he resisted every one of his natural impulses and held himself back until I could tell him I was ready for him.

His lips left mine and drifted lower, seeking out that sensitive spot just below the corner of my jaw
.  Nibbling, kissing, driving me wild.  Oh, I was so ready for him.

I struggled to draw the breath to tell him that, but just as I did, I opened my eyes
–

–
and found myself face to face with the most enormous, horrifying insect I’d ever seen in my life, squatting on the pillow right beside my head with its talons waving threateningly in the air.  The breath I had drawn to surrender myself to him completely turned into a bloodcurdling scream.  Poor Michael just about levitated off of me and ended up on the floor, while I fled to the far end of the bed and had myself a nice little heart attack in the corner.

The weta – a huge native insect that resembled nothing so much as the offspring of a gigantic cricket and the Devil himself – was not impressed.

Michael shoved himself up off the floor in a tangle of blankets, trying to figure out what had me so horrified.  He spotted the enormous insect immediately, and then flopped right back onto the floor laughing himself silly at my expense.

“That is so not funny!”
I was almost in tears, huddled up at the end of the bed.  Then it hit me all of a sudden.  It was just a bug.  I’d seen them a hundred times before.  It wasn’t really dangerous, despite its horrifying appearance.  The worst it could do was draw a little blood.  Okay, it was slightly funny.

I burst out laughing, the romantic mood completely gone
.  I hurled one of our non-bug-covered pillows at Michael.  It hit him square in the face, but it was only a pillow so all it did was make him laugh harder.

With great difficulty, he pried himself out of his tangle of blankets and snatched up his hat from where we’d left it the day before
.  Naked as a jaybird and armed only with a hat, he captured the offending insect, then yanked open the window and flung the creature outside.  I joined him at the window just in time to see the huge bug hit the ground below and roll a couple of times.  A second later, it was up and off at a run, uninjured but horribly offended by our rude behaviour.  Michael looked at me and I looked back, both of us still struggling to control the urge to laugh.

“Fear not, madam!
Captain Bugcatcher is here to protect you,” he announced, flailing a playful salute.

I’d had about as much as I could stand, and that crossed the line
.  I dissolved into hysterics and collapsed back into bed, laughing until tears rolled down my cheeks and my stomach hurt.  It was clearly not going to be a morning for love-making, but at least we both got a good laugh out of it.

***

Later, dressed and finally back under control, we descended the stairs to the kitchen.  There, we found Anahera, Hemi, the doctor and Maddy sitting around the table, while Skylar stirred something savoury-smelling on top of a bench-top gas cooker.

“Power’s still off?” I queried, fighting down a wave of relief at the sight of my baby sister back in the kitchen
.  Not only did that mean she was feeling better, but she was the best cook we had.  All our bellies welcomed the sight of her with a spatula in hand.

“Yes,” Anahera answered, then she turned and gave us a strange look
.  “Glad you could join us.  When we heard all that screaming, we were concerned someone was getting murdered.”

“All that… oh.”
I stared at her, unsure what to say.  Although I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, I couldn’t fight the uncontrollable urge to start laughing all over again.  Luckily, Michael found the willpower to answer while I was still in stitches, with an enormous grin on his face.

“She woke up to the biggest weta I’ve ever seen, on her pillow,” he explained, using his hands to indicate the size of the beast
.  “It scared the hell out of us both.  I guess it must have come inside on one of those branches that got blown about yesterday.  Fear not, good citizens! The demon has now been evicted from the building.”

He promptly struck a heroic pose, and soon everyone was laughing right along with me
– except for little Madeline, who sat regarding us with eyes that said she thought we were all crazy.

Breakfast was a cheerful affair in comparison to the solemn meals we’d shared the day before
.  The storm had passed, and although the wind still whined around our building, it left us feeling like we’d survived a disaster.

After we’d finished eating our scrambled eggs, we went outside to inspect the damage done by the storm
.  Our little garden had survived mostly intact thanks to our forethought, but the outside of the building was a disaster zone.  The remains of one large tree lay uprooted across the road, and down the street we could see another, smaller tree leaning up against the side of the building next to it at a drunken angle, its roots partially dislodged from the earth.

Leaves and debris were strewn everywhere, including large shards of broken glass that threatened our feet as we picked our way around the motel to inspect it
.  Our building had survived mostly intact, and I was amazed to see my haphazard construction on the roof was still standing strong.  It’d take a bit of effort to clean it up, but only a couple of boards were missing completely.

A few of the other buildings in town had suffered far worse than ours
.  Michael nudged me and pointed at a portion of a roof that lay slumped across an overgrown lawn a short distance down the road, reducing the jungle to a crushed mess.

“Glad none of us were under that,” I murmured to him
.  He nodded, but I saw the look on his face.  He was thinking the same thing I was: Ryan may have been out in that weather last night.  As angry as he was at Skylar’s former fiancé for abandoning her, no one deserved the full force of nature’s wrath.

I reassured myself with the thought that he’d survived just as many storms as I had over the years
.  He would know the warning signs, know when to go find shelter, and what kind of buildings would be sturdy enough to survive the weather.  New Zealand was an island, and we were all Aotearoa’s children.  Our country had been subjected to many different kinds of storms over the years, not to mention the geological activity, floods and even tidal waves.  You couldn’t go anywhere without seeing some kind of natural damage.

Years ago, I’d honestly thought that my number was up
.  I had been travelling near the centre of the island when an earthquake struck that was ten times more violent than anything I’d felt before.  I had fallen to the ground and hadn’t been able to get back up for what felt like forever; in the distance, a massive plume of ash had shot up into the sky.

To my eternal relief, I later discovered that it had only been Mount Taranaki venting its red-hot disinterest at the world, as it did on a semi-regular basis
.  The eruption had caused little damage beyond light ash fall.  Nature was a fickle mistress, and she scolded us often; we’d all survived it before.

He’s probably fine
, I reassured myself, then took Michael’s hand and led him back towards the others.

***

Anahera and her son stayed long enough to help us repair some of the damage to our home.  Our motel was low, squat, and solid; the work mostly involved clearing debris, so that it wouldn’t endanger us in the future.

The wind blew in brief but violent gusts as we worked, yet it only took a few hours to clear up the worst of the mess
.  There was nothing we could do about the tree that blocked the road without putting all our people at risk, so we decided to just leave it where it was.  At least it meant convenient firewood nearby, or a makeshift barricade in a pickle.

Surprise, surprise
.  The barricade idea was mine.  It’s not that I’m paranoid, per se.  I just like to be prepared for every contingency.  That was the same thing that I told Anahera when we were debating whether or not to bring our weapons on our trip west to visit her home.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you or your people,” I explained to the group as we stood around the kitchen, making plans,
“but there are a lot of dangers between here and your place that we should be able to defend ourselves against.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary,” Michael protested
.  “We’re only going for a short vacation, and it’s just a few hours walk away.”

“Hemi was only a few hours from home when the pig found him,” I pointed out
.  The youth grunted in agreement.

“She’s right, man,” Hemi said, then pointed at his bandaged side
.  “Don’t forget about the bugger that’s out there taking pot shots at us, too.”

The others looked undecided, but it was Anahera who broke the tie.

“I agree with Sandy.  You should bring your weapons along.” She looked at me and smiled.  “However, I appreciate you making the effort to ask my permission before you made the decision.  Thank you.”

“Of course,” I stammered; her praise always left me feeling a little flustered
.  “You don’t bring a shotgun to a mate’s house without asking first.  That’s just bad manners.”

“Your mother clearly raised you well.”
Anahera’s smile broadened.

“
Well, it’s settled then,” Michael finally agreed reluctantly.  “Everyone go get your things, we’ll leave in fifteen minutes.”

Those of us who were going filtered out to collect our packs, and left the doctor to chat with our guests
.  He’d decided to stay behind with Madeline rather than come with us, protesting that our gardens still needed care and someone should protect our home base.  I assumed that he just didn’t like being out of his element, but I hadn’t said anything.  If Michael hadn’t been so determined to go and Skye wasn’t so clearly in need of an adventure, then I would have stayed home as well.

Home
.  It felt funny using that word, particularly to describe a run-down old motel and a tatty former video store.  Michael slipped his hand into mine as we walked back towards his room, and I was forced to quickly reassess that thought.  Maybe it wasn’t so strange after all.  Home is where the heart is, and mine was here.