The Survivors (Book 1): Summer (27 page)

"
And don’t forget the bacon."  Michael’s comment was laced with dry humour; we all laughed.

"
So, we were talking earlier," Ryan piped up as the levity faded. "We’ve got this jungle happening in the central courtyard right now, but if we cleared out all the weeds and bushes, then we could plant our own vegetable garden in there."

Skye added her input to the conversation, as she cracked eggs into a huge bowl.
 "That way even if something happens and we have to lock this place down, we’ll still have a secure source of fresh food."  

"
That’s a good idea."  Michael nodded slowly, then looked at me for my thoughts.

"
Yeah."  I glancing thoughtfully around at the ring of faces.  "We could transfer some of the adult plants from the gardens outside.  I think I saw some hydroponics equipment out at one of the farms, too."

"
We could clear out one of the downstairs rooms."  Ryan was sounding excited now. "If we bring back that equipment, we can grow all kinds of things."

I looked around at the faces that had become so familiar to me in such a short period of time, and felt an unexpected surge of affection towards them all.
 Then I noticed a strange little smile on Dr Cross’ face, and shot him a curious look.  "What are you grinning at, Doc?"

"
Oh, nothing."  He chuckled softly.  "I was just thinking that you young folks sound as excited as my late wife when she first saw the big gardens behind our first house.  She loved to garden."  The doctor sighed softly, and absently raised a hand to stroke Madeline’s hair.  Maddy, of course, was off in her own little world, playing with her dolls, and didn’t even seem to notice.

"
Oh, good."  I grinned right back at him.  "Hopefully you can tell us how to not kill things, then.  I’m pretty sure no one in this room has ever planted a vegetable garden before."  

Embarrassed chuckles from the others around the room answered that question
– apparently, my guess was bang on the money.

"
Ah, I see."  The doctor shoved his glasses up his nose, but for once the smile lingered on his face.  It was nice to see him happy for a change.  "I’ve been volunteered as the king of the vegetable patch.  I shall try my best to teach you youngsters what you need to know."

"
After breakfast." Ryan grinned, and everyone else agreed.  Skylar’s savoury concoction was just about done, and to our deprived noses it smelled like the most delicious thing ever made in the entire history of the world.

We waited impatiently while she finished cooking, our grumbling bellies whining in protest about how long it took to cook.
 Once it was served, the food was devoured with delighted gusto; more than one of us suffered a burnt tongue in our haste, but it was well worth it.
 
I couldn’t remember a breakfast I’d enjoyed more.

"
You’re getting good at this, Skye," I told her after I finished my last bite, while settling back in my chair to digest.  "I think you’ve inherited Mum’s culinary skills."

"
Thanks."  She beamed, glowing from the praise.  "I’m really enjoying it, actually.  Cooking, I mean.  I found some cook books while I was exploring the other day, and looking through the pictures has got me feeling so inspired."

I smiled at her enthusiasm and nodded. 
"Well, if we can find the ingredients, I’m sure no one will mind if you experimented a bit and tried out some of the recipes."  

A chorus of grunts came from the menfolk that we both took to be agreement.

"I’d love to, but there are so many words in there that I don’t know."  Skylar sighed heavily.  "I’ll have to get someone to help me read the recipes."

I stared at her, but it took a second for what she’d just said to actually sink in.
 When it did, my eyes widened in surprise.  "You can’t read?"

"
I can, sort of."  She looked taken aback by the accusation, and a little offended.  "But not very well.  I was eight, Sandy.  Eight!  I only got to go to school for a few years, so I didn’t get to learn much.  I haven’t had very much practice since then so I’m just not a good reader."

Her tone stung; it was so full of bitterness, something I hadn’t heard from her before.

"I didn’t mean it like that, sis."  Suddenly on the defensive, I held my hands up in front of me as though to ward off a physical attack.  "I just mean, you know.  I hadn’t thought about it.  Don’t worry about it though, we’ll teach you."

"
Yes, we absolutely will."  Dr Cross’ voice cut in, surprising us since he usually spent our mealtimes in silence.  "You shall join Madeline’s lessons immediately.  So much of human history is now only available in the written form; it is critical that each of us understand it so that we can keep our language and our history alive.  The written word is the only reliable way that we can preserve our history for our children, and our children’s children."

Skye was speechless for once in her life and sat staring into space for a while, with her hand rubbing protectively over her swollen belly.
 I could see that the doctor’s words reached her – particularly the very last of them. Finally, she nodded.

"
Okay.  If nothing else, then I’ll learn for the baby’s sake."

"
And don’t forget the cookbooks." Ryan chipped in helpfully.  Someone kicked his ankle under the table, and he yelped.  I wasn’t sure if it was Skylar or one of the men, but either way everyone laughed.

***

The day grew hotter and hotter as the sun climbed higher in the sky.  I paused in my work to wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, and then peered upwards.

It must be February
, I thought absently as I considered the heat mirage that radiated off the ground and the roof of our building.  February was the hottest month of the year, and with all the time I spent outside I had a good sense of the rise and fall of the seasons even if I didn’t know the exact dates.  This was by far the hottest day that I’d felt all year.

With a group effort, we
had managed to clear the biggest weeds from the garden before the sun climbed high enough to reach our courtyard.  The men had strained and strained to pull them out; some of those weeds had grown into small trees over the years.  Eventually, we won the battle, and then we combined our forces to lug the unwanted greenery away.

Digging out the smaller weeds was going to take time
, though.  I was on my hands and knees in the dirt with a trowel, digging them out one by one.  I twisted out one rampantly overgrown dandelion and flung it over my shoulder without looking, in the general direction of the pile on the concrete behind me.

"
Hey!"  A voice yelped.  I glanced back and saw Michael brushing dirt off his trousers from where the plant hit him.  He kicked the weed into the pile, and then joined me in the dirt.  "Geez, attacking me with weeds now?  What did I do?"

His voice was only teasing, so I smiled and tilted the wide brim of my hat back to look at him.
 "You were clearly trying to sneak up on me, so it was self-defence."

With a grin, he grabbed one of the little gardening forks we’d scavenged from around town, and set about helping me to gouge out the verdant weeds.
 My gaze lingered on him a moment longer, admiring the way his broad shoulders glistened with sweat in the sunshine.  He’d ditched his shirt at some stage and was clad only in dirty jeans.  It was a pleasant sight – until I realised that his fair skin was starting to turn red.

"
You’re getting sunburnt," I warned him.  The combination of his ethnicity and the length of time he’d spent living underground made him even more vulnerable to the sun than I was, but at least I was smart enough to wear a hat.

"
I know."  He sighed and absently rubbed a hand down his arm, then shrugged and gave me a sideways look.  I noticed the bridge of his nose was red as well, as was his forehead and upper cheeks.

"
Get inside, you.  You’re getting roasted," I scolded him and shook a dirty finger at him.  "We’ve got enough things trying to kill us without adding melanoma to the list."

He mumbled something inarticulate and yanked out a weed.
 I leaned over and snatched it from his hand, then tossed it aside.  "Oh no, you don’t.  Inside, right now."

He gave me a sulk that made my innards quiver, but I wasn’t going to let him injure himself for the sake of pride.
 In the time I’d known him, I’d learned that the biggest danger to Michael Chan’s health was not zombies or food poisoning, but his own stubbornness.  I knew that he considered our safety and health far above his own, and tended to ignore his own condition until it was almost too late.

I hauled myself to my feet and dusted my knees off with my hands, then stripped off my dirty gardening gloves.
 I dumped them at my feet, put one hand on my hip and offered the other to him.

Loathe to admit his own weakness, he stared at my hand for a second, and then pointedly looked away.

"Ahem?"  I wiggled my fingers deliberately, until finally his shoulders slumped in surrender.  With a long sigh, he took my hand and let me help him to his feet, then he trailed along behind me as I led him into the shade.

"
I’m fine, really."  He was still protesting when we found the doctor in the midst of organising one of the storage rooms.  The doctor took one look at him, and then started scolding him like a naughty child.

Michael promptly put on his whipped puppy expression, but neither of us were having any of it.
 Between the two of us, we bundled him off to one of the bathrooms and bullied him into a cold shower.

"
But I’m fine!" He spluttered beneath the chilly flow, sending cold droplets flying in all directions.

"
You feel like it now, but you won’t in an hour."  I gave him a stern look that told him I would brook no arguments from him.  "Trust me."

"
I’m afraid your lady friend is quite right, young man," the doctor agreed.  "It may not look or feel so bad right now, but the damage is already done.  You’re inside for the rest of the day, doctor’s orders."

Michael visually deflated and slumped in against the shower’s wall.
 "But what am I supposed to do inside all day?"

"
Clear out one of the rooms for the hydroponics."  I sighed and pulled off my hat.  "I’m going to go this afternoon when it cools down a bit, and see what I can scrounge up.  Right now, I don’t think any of us should be out there.  It has to be 32 degrees in the sun."

"
Mmn." The doctor made an inarticulate noise of agreement. "Go fetch them in, Ms McDermott.  I’ll keep an eye on our good constable here."

"
But I’m fine!"  Michael was still protesting weakly, but he’d given up the fight.

"
Sure you are, lobster-man."  I chuckled, and reached over to trail a fingertip over his wet shoulder.  The water felt so cool and nice I almost wanted to join him.  "You seem to forget you’ve been living in a basement for the last ten years.  Your skin has forgotten what the sun is."

Michael mumbled something inarticulate in return.
 The doctor caught my eye and rolled his, as if to comment on Michael’s foolishness.  I smiled at him and then left them to it, content to know that my sweetheart was in good hands.

Luckily, the others were not half as stubborn as Michael was; they were already filtering in out of the sun on their own.
 When I caught up to Skye and Ryan, they were heading for the kitchen.  Ryan plodded along contentedly behind my sister, his arms burdened by an old plastic washing basket filled to bursting full of freshly-picked lettuces, tomatoes, cucumbers and green beans.

Skylar waddled ahead of him with her arms wrapped around an enormous watermelon, her gait awkward but determined.
 The melon was almost as big as her belly, so I hurried over to help her with it – or at least I tried to, but she refused to relinquish her prize.

"
No, I’ve got this."  She shooed me away, and vanished into the kitchen.

Ryan gave me an amused look and lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
 "Yeah, I tried that too.  There’s no helping her when she’s got it in her head to do something."

I chuckled and nodded
– I understood that stubbornness very well.  It was a family trait.  "What about you?  You sure you should be lifting that with your arm?"

The youth looked down at his arm, which was still swathed in bandages, and then shrugged.
 

"
Probably not, but I’m not letting
her
do it."  He grinned and tilted his chin in the direction Skylar had gone.  "It’s all good, though.  We’re almost there."  Then he adjusted his burden and followed Skylar into the kitchen, with me trailing along in their wake.

"
Salad for lunch?" I queried curiously, and reached over to snatch a juicy tomato from the basket when Ryan set it down on the table.  I held it to my nose and inhaled deeply, enjoying the garden-fresh scent.  There was nothing quite the smell of a freshly-picked tomato.