Survivors of the Sun Read online

  ‘Okay, thank you Rebecca. I will go and look down there, you go back to the others and I will go get a lantern from the kitchen.’

  Rebecca looked very relieved and rushed back to the living room, shutting the door as Georgia made her way back to the kitchen. She lit the lantern easily and carried it hissing gently with its blue light, back to the stairs. She held it up above her eye level, so she could see more clearly and made her way into the basement. As scared as she was of finding the Johnson’s dead, she was comforted by the thought that so far she had not smelt anything bad. All she could smell was the beeswax polish that they must use to polish the banisters.

  Thick carpet lined the basement floor. ‘Of course there was.’ she thought. Ninety nine percent of the American population lived in houses with basements that housed a sump pump, and occasionally flooded and if they didn’t, they were at the very least damp nasty scary places. Not this one though. This one was the ultimate, Georgia paused, trying to remember an expression she had heard, what did they call them? Man caves, yes this one, was definitely the ultimate in man caves.

  The basement was just a continuation of the luxury she had encountered upstairs. There was a large flat screen television against one wall, more rugs, bookshelves filled with leather bound books, as likely never read, by the look of them, and walls lined with what looked to Georgia like walnut burr paneling.

  All of a sudden, she thought she heard a noise behind her and swung round, the light oscillating madly around the room as the lamp swung with her. She knocked against an end table and nearly knocked over a large green vase. She deftly caught it and then realized that the sound had come from above.

  Panicked, she ran back up the stairs and flung open the living room door, the kids were running madly round the room, playing tag. How could they still have the energy? She was ready to curl up in a ball and sleep for two days!

  ‘Did you hear a noise,’ she asked, breathing heavily.

  ‘No,’ Rebecca said.

  ‘Oh, I think that was me,’ Deedee said, ‘I pushed over the fire tongs by mistake.’

  ‘Oh,’ Georgia said, trying to get her racing heart back under control.

  ‘Did you find them,’ Jamie asked.

  ‘No, there is no one here; maybe they are at a neighbors. I imagine they will be home soon. Meanwhile I think you all need to have a wash and change into dry clothes and I am sure Grandma Johnson would not mind if we made ourselves at home while we waited for them.’

  ‘What about the dogs?’ Rebecca asked.

  ‘I think that we had best put the dogs in the kitchen for now. At least there are tiles down on the floor in there, less chance of them causing any damage.’

  In the kitchen, she checked the taps and found to her absolute amazement that there was still running water, hot running water at that. Thank God, for natural gas and gravity fed water.

  She put a large pot of water on to boil and then, having collected their packs and various bits and pieces they went upstairs.

  ‘Our room is the last one,’ Rebecca said, ‘it has its own bathroom.’

  There was soap in the bathroom, along with shampoo and conditioner. Georgia went in and turned on the shower, checking the water. ‘Guess what, you guys, you all get to have a hot shower.’

  ‘Can I go first?’ Rebecca asked.

  No way, then no one would get any hot water! ‘No, Rebecca, I think Jamie should go first, then Deedee, then you, and you need to take a quick shower as well, or chances are there will be no hot water left for me.’

  ‘Can we eat soon,’ Deedee asked, ‘cause I am starving.’

  It was then that Georgia realized with a twinge of guilt that none of them had eaten since earlier that morning. Not since Bertha…, she closed her mind.

  ‘I tell you what, if Grandma and Grandpa Johnson haven’t turned up, by the time we have all showered and changed, we will go down and see what we can make for dinner.’

  Before she had even finished speaking, Jamie had already gone into the bathroom and shut the door. Either he was feeling particularly dirty, or he too was starving. While Jamie was in the shower, Rebecca showed her where to get more towels, big fluffy white ones. She carried them back down the hall and put them on the edge of one of the twin beds.

  ‘Do you think,’ Rebecca asked, ‘if we push the beds together, we could all sleep in the same room tonight?’

  ‘Yes please,’ Deedee added, and by the looks of her, she had been afraid that she was going to be sent to sleep alone in another room.

  After the beds had been pushed together, Georgia knelt down before Deedee and checked her shins, the blisters were definitely healing. ‘No new blisters anywhere?’ she asked as she removed the dressing. They didn’t need to be kept covered any longer.

  ‘Nope, none at all,’

  ‘How about you Rebecca?’

  ‘No, no blisters, but I have a couple of bug bites.’ At the mention of bug bites, Deedee also discovered she had been bitten.

  ‘Okay, well as soon as you have had your showers, I will put some calamine lotion on the bites. No point doing it before.’ From the bathroom, came the sound of the toilet flushing.

  ‘Ooh,’ Rebecca exclaimed, looking almost joyful, ‘the toilet works.’

  Then Jamie came out, wrapped in his towel, his dirty clothes in his arms and proudly announced, ‘the toilet flushes.’

  ‘We heard,’ Deedee said.

  Georgia took his dirty clothes from him and put them on a chair, she would wash them all later tonight. When Deedee came out of the shower, Georgia dotted the bug bites with dabs of pink, then helped her into her pajamas. As she finished combing out Deedee’s tangled bob, she pinned it back out of her eyes with her diamante clips. ‘There,’ she smiled, ‘as pretty as a princess.’

  Deedee beamed. ‘Yeah, especially with my bangles too.’

  ‘Yes, especially with your bangles.’

  Rebecca was still in the shower, ‘come on Rebecca, time to come out.’

  She didn’t wait for Rebecca’s reply. ‘Back in a min,’ she said to Jamie and Deedee, ‘just going to turn the stove off. It has been more than twenty minutes now.’

  Downstairs in the kitchen the windows had fogged up from the steam. The dogs leapt up to greet her. ‘I know, I know,’ she laughed. ‘It’s been forever since you saw me.’

  She reached over to the stove and switched off the gas and then giving the dogs all a quick pat, took one of the gas lamps off the table and left the kitchen, taking the lamp upstairs with her.

  Rebecca was as pink as a boiled crab, and had already changed into her pajamas. She helped her wrap her hair in a towel. She would comb it out for her later, once it was dry.

  ‘So, is everyone okay?’ Georgia asked, ‘Can you entertain yourselves while I have a quick shower and wash my hair.’

  They assured her they could. She was, she realized bone tired, aching all over, her shoulders felt raw where the straps from the pack had been rubbing, and as she stepped under the hot stream of water, they stung like hell. Before she put that pack back on, she was going to have to work out some sort of padding.

  She turned her face into the luxurious spray, feeling the warmth of the water trickle down her breasts and belly. This was sheer bliss. She washed her hair first, then conditioned it, and while that was soaking in, she soaped herself all over. Over the sound of the running water she could hear the children playing, from time to time she heard laughter. It was all so normal. This had been the right decision to take. The children would definitely be well provided for, there was so much food stored downstairs that it was almost rude.

  She pulled on her new pajamas bottoms and a clean t-shirt, then wrapped her hair up in a towel and with regret, left the bathroom.

  It was beginning to grow dark as they went back downstairs to the kitchen. She led the way down the stairs holding the lantern up high so all of them could see.

  There was a little niggle in her stomach. She was certain that the Johnson’s woul
d have been back by now. Had they left Belton and abandoned the house? And even though she hadn’t seen the cats, the house didn’t have a look, as though they had left in a hurry, no traces of hasty packing. Maybe, they had been held up because of the storm. Walking in a storm was very different from driving in it. ‘Yes, that would be what it was,’ she thought.

  In the pantry, she found several large cans of Big Meat Eater’s stew. The picture on the can showed a bowl near to overflowing with chunky pieces of beef, carrots and potatoes, glistening in a thick, mouthwatering looking stew.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked the kids, holding up a can.

  They chorused their approval, and so she emptied the stew into a pot and put it on the stove to heat up. She found some cat food in the pantry as well, and decided to feed the dogs with it. Probably, it was not the best, but at least they would all have very full tummies tonight.

  After dinner, they washed all the dishes, including the ones stacked up on the sink. Her back screamed at her, as she bent to pick up the crumpled beer cans scattered across the floor, around the trashcan. She was exhausted, she knew the kids were too, but she felt uncomfortable about just leaving the mess. It was more than a little awkward, being in the house of her husband’s ex-wife’s parents, especially as she knew how they felt about her.

  The rain had slowed up, and she let the dogs outside for a few minutes to do their after dinner thing. None of them stayed out there for very long though. There’s nothing like rain to ruin a Boston terrier’s desire to play outside.

  Everything back in its place, they trooped upstairs, the lantern reflecting eerily upon the wood paneled walls and making twisted shadows through the staircase railings. The dogs came with them. She had decided to take the dogs upstairs because she felt it was pushing things a bit far if she left them in the kitchen. It would be a bit much, if the Johnsons arrived home and fell over a pack of strange dogs. That could only lead to major problems.

  Rebecca carried Millie, who suddenly decided stairs were all too confusing for her, and suffered an attack of the wobbles.

  It felt so totally amazing to finally lie down. Muscles she did not even know she had, seemed to tighten and then slowly unlock, the pain soothing away. Georgia extinguished the light, and the children and Bostons snuggled up around her she closed her eyes. The dirty clothes were still piled up on the chair.

  I will do them tomorrow, Georgia decided. The thought of washing them, wringing them out and working out where to hang them to dry was just too overwhelming.

  They would sleep well tonight. They were all clean, comfortable, well fed and best of all they were safe, secure behind a large stone block wall.

  ‘Nite nite,’ she murmured, ‘nite nite Georgia,’ came three sleepy replies and then before she could consider what the morning would bring, she was asleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  July 15, Day 5

  Georgia awoke very early. The first streaks of light were breaking down the darkness, not yet day, no longer night. Deedee lay against her, her cheek sharing the pillow. She was clutching the little grey bear as she sucked her thumb. Ant was snuggled up to her, sucking one of the soft toy’s legs, her paws working like a new born kitten at its mother’s teat. So cute, ‘oh for a photo of that,’ she thought. Then she sighed and felt like crying.

  All the photos, the ones stored on computers and phones were all gone, stolen in an instant. Millions upon millions of memories, ‘Kodak moments’ they had been called before the digital age; all gone. Would there ever be photos again? Or would the very concept be lost over time and generations, till they would be part of some grandmother’s deteriorating memories. Oh Grandma’s really bad today, she is raving about catching images and putting them on paper.

  Jamie mumbled something in his sleep, and rolled over. She looked over at Rebecca and Jamie sleeping on her right, and she felt like weeping. If the Johnson’s came home today, and told her to leave, she might never see the children again. Was she doing the right thing?

  Yes, she sighed, it is not about me, it is about them; the right thing is that they are with their blood relatives. She sat up, gently moving Rebecca’s arm which had been slung in sleep across her chest and slid out of bed.

  In the half gloom, she opened her pack and pulled out her clean jeans, panties and a pair of socks. She would have to wear the same top, the one she had slept in. It was the cleanest one she had. She made her way into the bathroom and used the toilet. She debated whether to flush, but decided not to, the children needed to sleep. She put the lid down instead. Quickly, she changed, washed her face and as she glanced up in the mirror she noticed, really for the first time the fading yellow and purple bruises on her cheek, and the black of the inch long scab across her forehead. It was probably going to scar, she decided. She had black shadows under her eyes, and her face had a definite thin pinched look.

  As she closed the bathroom door behind her and made her way past the sleeping children and the dogs, she decided that she would search the house for some cream. Surely, Grandma Johnson would have face cream.

  With the sunlight streaming down the hallway, she discovered that along one section of wall was a display of antique weapons. She paused to look at them. They were really quite impressive, there were several battle axes, a really mean looking club with spikes poking out all over the place, a halberd, a blunderbuss, a long sword, two spears, and a wooden bow, that looked as though it had come from the Pacific somewhere. A dozen lethal looking arrows were displayed in fan like precision around it.

  She headed down the steps, realizing how tired she must have been that she had not noticed the weapons earlier. She suddenly stopped. There was a jacket lying on the floor, near the front door, it most definitely had not been there the night before.

  Her heart did a little jump. The Johnson’s must have come home while they slept. ‘This could be awkward,’ she thought and was very glad that she had not just bounced down stairs in her pajamas. Making her way towards the kitchen she heard the sound of water running and the clink of china and the fragrance of freshly brewed coffee.

  Putting a smile of greeting on her face and feeling a bit nervous she swung open the door, expecting to see Grandma Johnson in some sort of housecoat, bustling away at the sink.

  ‘Jumpin’ Jehozephat,’ you scared the bejesus outta me!’

  Georgia froze, her smile sort of folding up. She had not expected this. ‘Um…’ she said, then bit her lip, not sure what to say.

  The woman standing near the kitchen table, holding a pot in one hand about to pour coffee into two porcelain cups, was virtually naked, aside from the tiniest of red G-strings. For a moment, they stared at each other, the woman with one hand at her throat, the other, still holding the coffee pot, hovering over the cups. Georgia guessed her to be about ten years younger than herself, twenty four or twenty five, maybe even younger, definitely not the sixty four year old grandmother she had been expecting. She could not quite believe what she was seeing. The woman’s platinum blonde hair cascaded across her shoulders, not quite covering the very pert breasts that seemed to stare unblinkingly at her. She tried to look away, but her eyes kept returning to the hypnotic rose pink nipples.

  Her befuddled mind repeating, ‘this is not Grandma Johnson,’ and it wasn’t, not unless there had been some major breakthroughs in the plastic surgery and rejuvenation field.

  They continued to stare at each other for what seemed to Georgia a ridiculous length of time. Georgia was very glad the children were asleep upstairs, very glad that they had not woken earlier than she had. She was not sure what they would have made of this. This was awkward.

  Need to say something, anything, ‘I’m...,’ she began, but at that instant, the back door suddenly opened and a man stepped into the room.

  There was a heavy silence in the kitchen as he gazed from her, to the blonde-haired woman, and then back to her again. She almost did not recognize him. The Grandpa Johnson she had met, admittedly only once before,
had been well dressed and immaculately groomed. This man, sporting only baggy boxer shorts with smiley faces all over them, and unshaven, for quite a few days by the look of it, had a hung over look.

  He broke the silence. ‘What are you doing in my house?’

  ‘I, um, I’m Georgia and…,’ she proffered her hand, which he ignored. Feeling ill at ease, she dropped her hand by her side.

  ‘I know who the hell you are, what I don’t know, is what the hell you are doing here.’

  ‘I think...,’ the blonde woman began but Johnson did not let her finish.

  ‘I don’t really care what you think, so shut it Lola.’ Lola opened her mouth as though to say something and then closed it.

  ‘Mr Johnson,’ Georgia tried again. ‘I have brought the children here, Jamie and Rebecca. The house was burned down and after…’

  ‘And you just thought you would pop over here and drop the kiddies off onto me?’ His face was set, hard as granite.

  Georgia was shocked into silence for a minute.

  Behind him, Lola had gone pale, her eyes huge with shock as she sat down at the kitchen table. Apparently, Mr Johnson did not always behave like this.

  ‘Well, they…, they are your grandchildren,’ Georgia stammered, ‘and when Nathan didn’t come back, and I don’t know where…’

  He interrupted her again.

  ‘You have got to be pulling my leg. They are not my grandchildren. They are the spawn of that bitch of a step-daughter of mine (she had not known that), and if you think I am going to have them in my house, eating my food, you have another thing coming.’

  Georgia had never felt this nervous talking to anyone in her life before, and now her mouth was so dry, her throat so tight that she was afraid she would not be able to speak, and it was with great effort that she managed to ask, ‘Perhaps I could talk to Mrs Johnson.’ She inwardly cringed, hearing her trembling words.