The Other Life (9 page)

I don’t think I managed to hide my relief. “Thanks.” There were so many things I wanted to thank him for. For saving me, for saying he’d look for my dad, for being there
for me.

I think he saw it all in my eyes.

He gave a small nod. “Get some sleep.”

The door fell shut.

Silence. The darkness seemed to creep through the windows and right into me. I felt so cold. Inside and out. My hands began to shake; light vibrations starting in my fingertips and spreading
through my body like ice. An owl hooted outside. A sound like a lament.

Four hours had passed since I’d seen Dad. Six hours since I’d said goodbye to Mom, Bobby, Mia and Grandma. They were hungry. Worried. Scared.

And I had eaten pasta and talked with Joshua. I dragged myself over to the bed and sank down. Tears sprang to my eyes. They trickled over my cheeks and lips, covering the sweet taste of tomatoes
and peppers with their bitter saltiness. Selfish and despicable – that’s what I was. I sniffed, trying to get a grip. I’d seldom cried in the three years in the bunker. I
wouldn’t start now.

Enough. Be strong.

I looked down at myself – covered in blood and dirt. My stomach churned at the sight of it. The worst thing: the blood on the jeans wasn’t my own. It was Dad’s. How badly had
the Weepers hurt him? There had been so much blood on the floor in the store.

This had to go. Immediately. Shower. I needed a shower. I opened the door and peeked out. The hall was deserted. But where was the bathroom? I should have asked Joshua.

A howl rang out in the distance.

It wasn’t an owl this time. I froze, my heart beginning to pound frantically in my chest.

Another howl.

Closer this time.

They were close by.

Steps made me jump. A scream stuck in my throat as I spun around to face my attacker. My widened eyes focused on Karen, who was coming up the stairs. She smiled when she saw me, but then she
noticed the look on my face.

“What’s wrong?”

I let out a shaky breath. “I heard a howl.”

Karen’s brows dipped down in worry. Another howl carried over to us. I couldn’t tell if it was closer than before. Relief registered on her face. “Don’t worry. Coyotes,
they’re harmless.”

“Not Weepers?” I hated how my voice shook.

“No, they don’t come near Safe-haven. They prefer the cities. You’re okay.” She patted my arm gently. “Were you looking for something?”

My pulse slowed. “Yes, I need to clean myself and my clothes.” I gestured to the blood and dirt covering me.

Her gaze swept over me. “Yes. I guess you’re right. The bathroom is the last door on the left. You can take a shower if you like. There’s enough water.” She considered my
clothes with a shake of her head. “I don’t think your clothes can be saved and Joshua won’t let you go with him tomorrow smelling of blood. I’ll ask Marie if she’s got
something for you. I think she’s your size.”

“Thank you.”

She waved a dismissive hand at me. “No need to thank me, Sherry. We need to stick together. Now go take a shower.”

The room was small, with only a shower, washbasin and toilet. At least it didn’t have mint-green tiles like the bathroom in our bunker. I locked the door and undressed hastily. The water
was hot, almost scalding, and I washed the blood from my body. It tinged the water rusty red with swirls and streaks. Red on white – like art. The scent of the shower gel made my mouth water
– vanilla and peach. Better than soap, or nothing at all.

426 days since I’d washed my hair with shampoo.

It felt so damn good. I dried myself off and wrapped a towel around myself. Though I’d tried to keep my injured foot away from the water, the bandage was sodden. It stuck to my skin, the
shower gel stinging in my wounds.

A knock made me jump.

I tiptoed towards the door and opened it a crack. A young woman with short blonde hair, the length of matchsticks at most, stood in front of me. She smiled tentatively and held a pile of folded
clothes out.

“Thanks,” I mumbled with a shy smile.

“I’m Marie,” she introduced herself. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“I’m Sherry.” I bit my lip. “I’m fifteen.”

Her eyes grew round. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” At least I wasn’t the only one who blushed.

I shook my head hastily. “No, you didn’t. You’re younger than I thought too. Karen mentioned that you’ve got a daughter…”

She laughed. “I’m twenty-two. My daughter turned two a few weeks ago.”

Her daughter had been born in a bunker? Apparently, I didn’t hide my surprise very well.

“I got pregnant when I was in the shelter.” Her voice was quiet. Barely a whisper.

Finally she cleared her throat and gave me a weak smile. “I don’t want to keep you awake. From what I’ve heard, you need your sleep for tomorrow. Good luck.”

I closed the door silently, then slipped into the underwear and black T-shirt she’d given me. The towel wrapped around my waist, I hurried back to my room.

More howls disrupted the silence. Only coyotes. They were probably looking for food around Safe-haven. Maybe garbage. I was safe for now. Not for long, though.

Shivers crawled over my back when I thought of tomorrow. We’d collect my family from the bunker. We’d find Dad and save him from the Weepers. Then everything would be okay. I shut my
eyes, but images of snarling faces with teary eyes and shredded skin kept flashing in my mind.

“You’re worse than Nanna, and she’s eighty. Hurry up, or the beach will be crowded,” Izzy urged.

Yeah, right, we wouldn’t lose a spot just because of a few minutes. Lately, the presence of the military had scared away most beach-goers.

I unlocked the front door and rushed up the stairs. On the last step I froze. There were noises. Moans.

Mom and Dad.

“Eww!”

The noises stopped and footsteps rang out. Shit! Dad stepped into the hall, his belt open and hair dishevelled.

Please let the ground swallow me. I waited.

“Oh, Sherry, it’s you…”

“I just forgot my sunglasses.” I looked anywhere but at his face.

“Sure, sure. Get them.” Dad shifted on his feet, still holding his trousers up, his ears and neck beet-red.

Beyond awkward.

At least he wasn’t naked. That would have been the icing on the mortification cake.

“Uhh… I’ll just get them and then I’m gone. I won’t be back until later, so…umm. Bye.”

I’ve never run the distance to my room and back out of the front door so fast.

Thoughts of finding Dad’s mangled body had kept me awake most of the night, but when I did sleep, nightmares of hunched shadows and weeping monsters had haunted me. Just after I’d
drifted off for the last time, a knock jerked me awake. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Another knock. Louder this time.

“It’s almost morning. Get up!” Joshua’s shout must have woken the entire house.

“I’m awake!” I shouted back. I scrambled out of bed and winced when my right foot touched the floor. It wasn’t as bad as yesterday, but it still hurt. Maybe Karen had
painkillers. I slipped into Marie’s jeans. Running my fingers through my hair for want of a brush, I walked to the door and opened it. Joshua wasn’t there.

I checked the corridor – empty. He’d probably lost patience and gone downstairs. Well, it wasn’t like I needed a babysitter. Pushing thoughts of him out of my head, I hurried
into the bathroom. My reflection made me grimace. My hair was a matted mess and there were grey bags under my eyes. I looked like the living dead.

1,142 days since I’d stopped caring about such things. I wouldn’t start again now.

I rinsed my mouth with water – I didn’t want to use someone else’s toothbrush – and made my way downstairs, following the voices coming from the kitchen.

Joshua, Geoffrey, Karen and a middle-aged man with glasses and a bald head sat at the table.

“Good morning, Sherry.” Karen smiled warmly. “This is my husband Larry.” She nodded towards the middle-aged man. He gave a small nod. He seemed cautious – not
surprising. He didn’t know much about me. I guess this new world required a certain amount of wariness.

I shifted nervously on my feet and pulled my hands out of my pockets, not sure if I should join them or stay where I was. Joshua patted the chair next to him. With a grateful smile, I walked
over. The smell of warm bread filled the room. Mouth-watering.

I looked longingly at the basket of biscuits in the middle of the table. Karen laughed and pushed the basket over to me. “Larry baked them this morning. He and Marie are the cooks of our
little patchwork family. Enjoy the biscuits. It was our last packet of flour.”

I picked one of the warm biscuits and broke it in half. Steam rose up from its soft insides. I took a bite.

“They’re good,” I said between mouthfuls of my second biscuit. The guarded look on Larry’s face morphed into an embarrassed smile.

A guy entered the kitchen. He was tall and lanky. His black trousers hung loosely on his hips and his sleeveless shirt revealed tattooed arms and shoulders.

I stopped chewing. With a short nod towards me, he took the chair beside Larry.

“Morning, Tyler. Hungry?” Karen shoved the basket towards him. He picked a biscuit without a word. His head was shaved and his brown eyes were dull. He wasn’t much older than
Joshua, maybe in his early twenties. Joshua cleared his throat. I tore my gaze from Tyler, my face growing hot. I’d gawked at him like he was an animal in a zoo. How embarrassing.

“I didn’t see you come back last night. How long did you stay in the vineyard?” Joshua asked.

Tyler put a pad on the table in front of him and started scribbling. He pushed the pad over to Joshua. I glanced at the words. It was neat handwriting, so I could read the letters easily.

Midnight. Watched the stars.

Joshua sighed. “You shouldn’t be outside alone at night.”

Tyler leaned over and wrote another reply.

Don’t worry. Can take care of myself.

“I know you can.”

A grin flitted across Tyler’s face as he leaned back and ate the rest of his biscuit.

“Geoffrey suggested that he could drive to your family’s home,” Joshua said.

It took a moment before I realized what he’d said. I glanced between him and Geoffrey, swallowed the last bite of biscuit and licked my lips. “I’m not sure if my mother would
trust someone she doesn’t know. Dad told her to be careful. She probably wouldn’t even open the door of the bunker, or she’d try to shoot you before you got the chance to
explain.”

Geoffrey didn’t look as if the prospect of getting shot scared him – losing your wife and children likely did that to you.

“Maybe Geoffrey can follow us in his car. Then you can tell your family what they need to know, Geoffrey can bring them here and we can start searching for your dad straight away,”
Joshua said, picking a biscuit and munching on it.

“Okay.” I nodded. Then my eyes found the cuckoo clock. It was almost six.

15 hours and about 37 minutes since the Weepers had captured Dad.

About 56,220 seconds.

56,222 seconds.

Too long.

Joshua’s eyes searched my face. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine.” A feeble attempt at lying. I couldn’t have sounded more distressed if I’d tried, but Joshua didn’t ask further questions. He left the kitchen and
returned with a huge backpack.

“We should set out now.”

Electricity shot through me. I didn’t need to be told twice. I turned to Karen. “Can you give me something for my foot? Some painkillers?”

She nodded. “Of course. Wait a sec.” She walked towards a cupboard, opened the top drawer, and started rummaging. A minute later, she held two small white pills out to me.
“They’ll help,” she promised.

I swallowed them with a sip of water. Their bitter taste spread on my tongue. Hopefully they’d take effect soon.

“You sure you want to do this?” Joshua asked.

“Of course. I’ve got to find my father.”

Joshua studied my face for a moment, and seemed satisfied with what he saw. “Okay then.” He headed for the corridor, backpack in hand.