Survivors of the Sun Page 7

  ‘I know where that is,’ Rebecca said as she left the room.

  ‘Oh good,’ Georgia said, her thoughts already on the clothes that she would need to organize.

  Three changes of clothes, one to wear, one being washed and one spare. But she quickly realized that was simply not going to work, that was just adding way too much bulk and weight. She sorted through the clothes again.

  ‘I am sorry, Rebecca, but I don’t think we should have any bright colors. Bright pinks and purples are not a good idea. We need to be as inconspicuous as possible. How about your black jeans, and that brown t-shirt Grandma Johnson gave you?’

  In the end, she settled on a pair of jeans and two t-shirts for each of them, plus what they would be wearing. She added a pair of thick track pants and a jumper, sweater, each. Underwear she was a little less strict on, several extra pairs, and three pairs of socks each; and they were done. Thank goodness that it is summer. She could not even imagine having to do this in winter.

  She packed the track pants and sweaters, along with the extra pants and socks, congratulating herself on having remembered the box up in the attic, with Rebecca’s old clothes. She had kept planning to take them to Goodwill, and then somehow, someone had moved it from beside the front door, and eventually it had gone into storage. In amongst the clothing was an old pair of Rebecca’s knee high moccasins. They were given to Deedee. While they were a little too big for her, they were far superior to her own strappy shoes.

  Finally everything was packed (squashed), into three small knapsacks and her own backpack. Carefully she checked the weight of the children’s bags. Not too bad. They should, hopefully be able to manage those easily. She pulled on her own pack, testing how it felt. It was heavier than she would have liked, but it was manageable.

  ‘What about the dogs?’ Rebecca asked suddenly.

  As if to say, ‘yes what about us,’ Millie did her silly Millie dance in front of her, wriggling and tottering back and forth, on her hind legs, happy face on, tongue lolling.

  Georgia was surprised at the question. That the dogs would be coming with them was never in any doubt, but Rebecca’s question made her think about the dog food that they would need to pack. And in turn that thought made her realize, with mild shame that she had completely forgotten about food for themselves. And there was absolutely no room left in any of the bags. Yet more proof of unfit motherhood.

  When Georgia hadn’t immediately replied to Rebecca’s question, Jamie said, ‘Well, they took their dogs.’ As he spoke, he tilted his head towards the window.

  ‘Who did?’ Georgia asked.

  ‘The Browns, when they left, they had their two bulldogs with them.’

  ‘When did you see them?’ When had they come back?

  Jamie shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know, a while back I guess.’

  ‘Why didn’t you…?’ She let the question tail off. It really did not matter, the neighbors from across the road, had come back, and then they had gone again. She bit her lip, leaning down, fiddling with a strap of the pack. This thought, filled her with mixed feelings, it made her feel even more alone than before, but it also filled her with a renewed hope that there was still a chance that Nathan might also return before they had to leave.

  ‘So what about the dogs?’ Rebecca asked again.

  ‘Well, of course the dogs come with us.’

  Jamie and Rebecca whooped with joy, and Deedee smugly said, ‘I told you so.’

  Nevertheless, she had become aware of another problem. And that was Ant. Travelling across country to destinations, as yet unknown, with three kids was not exactly going to be easy. Travelling across potential nuclear wastelands with three kids and three dogs was going to be even less so. Especially as Ant, as spoiled and pampered as Deedee, was going to have to be carried. Walks were not in her repertoire. The prospect was daunting to say the least, but she was damned, if she was going to leave any of the dogs behind.

  They stopped for lunch. Georgia made up a batch of banana sandwiches, mashing the bananas with sugar, and adding a dash of vanilla essence. As she drew the last slice of bread from the wrapper, she couldn’t help wondered how long it would be before they had bread again.

  After they had eaten she went into the pantry and began sorting out the little food they had left. Georgia was up on tiptoes, craning to see if there was anything left on the top shelf when Rebecca came running into the kitchen.

  ‘I have an idea, how about we go to Grandma Johnson?’

  Georgia looked at her in amazement.‘That is absolutely brilliant,’ she said, hugging Rebecca close. It was the ideal solution. Grandma and Grandpa Johnson, Lydia’s parents, lived in Belton and Belton was south of them. Nathan had pointed out their house once as they drove past on their way to visit a friend. She had a vague sense of where it was, and Rebecca assured her that she remembered how to get there once they reached Belton.

  Rebecca raced out of the kitchen to tell the others and Georgia continued working out what food they would be able to take with them. The canned foods were out of the question. They would use some of them tonight, she decided.

  What she was left with, was the smoked meat that Jack had prepared, a quarter pound of grated cheese, some packets of crackers, a salami and four small cans of sardines. Not really very much at all, but it still needed to be carried somehow.

  She went back out to the garage for ideas. Something with wheels would be nice she thought as she scanned the neatly stacked boxes up on the shelf at the far end of the garage. Through the clear snap top storage crates, she could make out the edges of Nathan’s metal toys, the little blue truck given to him by his granddad, already old then. Along the side of the shelf was his iron push car.

  Now she wished she had agreed to the kids having their own bikes. They could have biked out of town.

  She was just about to leave when she spied, high up on the wall, nearly out of sight, suspended from a nail, an old red shopping caddy. While it was old, it looked to be of good construction. She climbed up onto the trellis and pulled it down. Not ideal by any means, but she could certainly put a lot of food into that. She checked the wheels; they were fine, and looked substantial. Experimentally she pulled it back and forth. Yes that would definitely do.

  Finally, all was ready. The smoked meat and the last of the dog biscuits carefully packed in zip lock bags. There would be room for extra water bottles in the shopping caddy as their pitiful stores of food did not take up that much space.

  She did a final check and then stacked the bags in a heap near the front door. She leaned the shotgun against the wall next to them. Then she went downstairs to check that she had locked the gun safe.

  She held the candle up looking around her workshop. She was going to miss this, her little domain. She would miss being able to take a bit of gold and roll it and anneal it and shape it and create a piece of jewelry that someone would wear and treasure throughout their lives.

  This was going to be hard to walk away from. She picked up a chasing hammer and put it down again, she really didn’t need any more weight. Then she looked at the bangle she had made in 18 carat gold and her grandfather’s words came back to her.

  ‘It’s very important to have gold, gold bracelets, during wartime you can buy anything with a single link’.

  This wasn’t exactly a war though. Or was it?

  Well she did not have any gold link bracelets, but she did have the gold bangle and a few more pieces in the safe. Half an hour later she went back upstairs, she had left her customers jewelry still in their job packets in the safe, after all, they weren’t hers, but the rest she had melted down into one gram balls. She had then flattened them in the press and stamped each one with the 18 carat hallmark.

  By the time dusk was beginning to settle, Georgia had the bags ready to go. The clothes they would wear tomorrow, laid out on top of the tall boy, in the master bedroom, the dogs leads and harnesses sitting on top of the packs.

  They went to bed early leav
ing the blinds partly open tilted upwards so they could see stripes of sky, and the occasional lightning bug.

  The sunset was spectacular, vivid oranges and mauves daubed the sky as though painted by an artist in a moment of pure genius and fury. Beyond the fence was nothing but silence. The heavy stillness had seemed to grow as the afternoon had lengthened into evening. Somehow, it seemed more ominous than the occasional gunshot or scream.

  They would leave in the morning shortly after daybreak, Georgia decided. That way it would still be fairly cool. She had checked the map and estimated that Belton was about twelve or thirteen miles away. She had no idea if they would manage that in one day, in fact, she seriously doubted it.

  ‘Will you read to us?’ Deedee asked.

  ‘Of course I will,’ Georgia said, ‘if you pass me the book.’ Deedee reached over and handed it to Georgia. Settling back against the pillows, the children and dogs snuggled up against her; she opened the book and began to read.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was Millie that roused Georgia, the low growling in her throat barely audible, but it had been enough to send her bolt upright. The children were still asleep, but in the thin strips of moonlight that fell across the bed, she could see Millie staring at the window, hackles clearly showing on her silhouetted form.

  Then, she also heard what Millie had been hearing, it was a murmuring. A swell of voices, and the distant sound of breaking glass and…, was that smoke she smelled?

  She leapt out of bed and raced into the lounge, she knew she would see nothing from the bedroom window. The fence, and the huge oak tree blocked that view.

  Millie and Badger jump out with her and Badger started barking. ‘Shush,’ Georgia said, poking her in the ribs. Badger shushed immediately, but Millie kept on with her a low rumbling. Georgia lifted the edge of the curtain and peered down the road.

  Outside, the night was lit up by an evil red glow. A large crowd of people milling in the flickering darkness, down near the corner of the road. Only about eight or nine houses away. Then she saw where the glow was coming from; a couple of homes were ablaze. She was wondering how she could help when realization suddenly struck her. Oh my God! They were not helping to put the fires out. They were lighting them! A mob of people going mad, rampaging.

  ‘Oh mother of Christ,’ she breathed, fear running through her.

  The whole scene was surreal, the flickering glow from the fires seemed to bring isolated details into focus. She saw four or five men dragging a woman out of a house by her hair. They threw her down upon the lawn, their hands tearing at her clothes, grappling at her body, her piercing screams cutting through the night.

  A man came stumbling out of the house, calling out something, but she could not hear his words. He threw himself at one of the men and a single shot was fired. The sound ricocheted up and down the street. For a split second everyone froze, and in the glimmer of the flames flickering hungrily across the man’s porch, she could clearly see his perplexed look. Then he staggered backwards and crumpled onto the ground. The woman began shrieking, a high keening, and abruptly the sound was cut off.

  On the other side of the street a bottle was flying through the air, crashing through a window, there was a loud whomp and flames raced up the sides of the remains of the picture windows. Cars were being rocked back and forth, flaming torches touched to their interiors. The gleam of spreading light as the seats began to smolder and burn.

  A little nearer now, two youths were smashing out the front windows of a house, and there was gunfire and more screams and thick smoke swirling and billowing, briefly blocking out what was happening. Then the smoke cleared and the teaming mass of people seemed to flow forward, getting closer and closer.

  Momentarily stunned, crippled with shock and horror at what she was witnessing, she had been unable to move, but now she broke her gaze, turned and ran. They had to get out and get out now, she doubted they would even have five minutes to do it.

  She shook the kids awake.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Rebecca asked, still half asleep.

  ‘There is no time to explain, we need to get out of the house right now. Quick, out of bed right now, head into the kitchen, and for God’s sake do not go anywhere near the front windows.’

  The alarm and urgency in her voice stung them into action. The three of them scrambled out of bed. She pushed them in the direction of the kitchen and ran back to the lounge to see what was happening. Her heart was thudding so hard she thought it would explode. They were only one house away now.

  She raced back into the kitchen and tore open the back door and looked outside. She was so grateful for the privacy the wooden fence gave them. There was no movement anywhere behind the house. So far it seemed that it was only their street that was being attacked.

  If they could get out over the back fence, then they could cross through the adjoining gardens and get onto the road that ran parallel to theirs.

  She grabbed Deedee in her arms, pushed Rebecca and Jamie out the door into the darkness. ‘Go, go go,’ she hissed, ‘run to the back fence then crouch down soon as you get there.’ There was no time to even think about the dogs.

  They reached the fence. Out here, in the garden, the noise from the street was deafening, terrifyingly close.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘I will help you up, once you are over, crouch down low and do not move till I come back, not a sound is that understood. Our lives depend on it.’

  She hoisted Rebecca up first, and then Jamie, and finally Deedee.

  ‘Aren’t you coming too?’ Rebecca whispered through the fence.

  ‘Have to get our gear,’ she said, and then turned and ran back into the house just as a rock came flying through the bay window. Glass went everywhere, flying fragments cutting her face. Badger was going demented, throwing herself at the door, snarling and barking. Georgia did not stop, she snatched up the bags and flung them outside, then she slung the pack across her shoulder, and in one movement grabbed the shotgun and the red shopping caddy.

  There was thumping on the door, and more screams. ‘Kick it in.’ she heard someone yell. Suddenly the drapes were on fire, flames snaking up the fabric in one spectacular movement and simultaneously a terrible cracking noise as though someone had struck the door with an axe.

  Her throat tight with fear, she turned, half stumbling out the back door, expecting to see the crowd flood down the side of the house and into the back yard. As she pushed the door shut, she heard the front door giving way.

  She ran across the backyard, the fence so far away, and she seemed to be running in slow motion, on legs that did not belong to her. The back of her neck prickled with fear, as she was sure any moment the back door would swing open and the horde would be upon her. Thirty feet… twenty…, she was going to make it…, then her foot caught on a root, under the oak tree, that damn root that the lawnmower was forever catching on, and she went flying forward. She tried to right herself, but the weight of the pack made it impossible. She hit the ground, knocking the breath from her lungs, the butt of the rifle wacked her across the back of her head.

  She lay there for no more than three or four seconds but it seemed like hours. The kitchen window exploded outwards, and there was the sound of insane laughter. Millie suddenly appeared out of the blackness, scaring her so badly that she very nearly wet herself. Then Georgia was back on her feet and closing the gap between herself and the back fence.

  Crouching, with the fence against her back she looked towards the house, she could see figures moving back and forth in the kitchen, backlit by flames from the lounge.

  Millie nuzzled her. Georgia stood up slowly, unsteadily.

  ‘Rebecca,’ she whispered, ‘you there?’

  ‘Yes,’ a hoarse whisper came back.

  ‘You still all in the corner?’ Georgia asked, desperately trying to keep her voice level.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good, stay there, and remain silent.’

  She pulled off the pack and d
umped it over the fence, followed by the caddy, then Millie went unceremoniously over as well. In the darkness, she tried to aim her so the pack would soften her fall.

  She dropped into a crouch again. There was a sudden burst of automatic gunfire from inside the house, then the dog door flew open and Badger came flying out, hurtling towards her. The back door was flung open, and a man stood there, some sort of weapon in his hand. Georgia shrank back.

  Oh God, Badger was headed straight for her, she is going to get us both shot.

  ‘Fucking mutt,’ the dark shadow yelled. There was drunken laugher behind him, and then he had lurched back inside. The door hung wide open now. Georgia found she had been holding her breath.

  Badger leapt up on her, licking her face, and whining. Her fur reeked of smoke. Georgia grabbed her, and in one fluid movement turned to the fence and dropped the dog over.

  Somehow, she had to get the kids bags; the compass and the maps were in one of them. She felt so afraid, the last thing she wanted to do was go back, but she had to get the packs, and I have to do it now! At any moment the crowd would flood onto Nina’s lawn and once that happened she would easily be seen.

  She was about to creep forward when Rebecca’s voice came over the fence, just a whisper, ‘Georgia?’

  ‘What Rebecca?’

  ‘We all forgot our shoes.’

  Shit, shit, and shit. If the intruders saw the shoes then they would know they were here, aside from the fact that the kids wouldn’t be walking far barefoot. But as things stood there was not a chance Georgia could get back into the house. She didn’t even know if it was going to be possible to reach the knapsacks.

  ‘Okay, I will see what I can do,’ she said in a seemingly calm voice, ‘now I just want you to hunker down and make like you are invisible.’

  She silently crept back to the large oak tree. The bags lay tantalizingly close on the lawn, the faint light from the doorway so nearly reaching them. She thought about their shoes, still next to the dresser, where they had been laid out ready for the morning, wondering if it was worth the risk. Now that they were all out of the house it would be foolhardy to…, Oh God, Ant was still in the bedroom! In their rush to get out, she had been forgotten. Now there was nothing for it, she knew she had to go back in.