The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn by V. L. Dreyer

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.
    He opened the window to our walkway between the buildings and offered me a hand up, which I accepted .  I slipped out onto the damp planks, testing their stability carefully, then I crossed the alley to the top floor of my old video store to gather my things.  Michael stayed behind, to pack his own bags.
    My backpack lay in a distant corner of my bedroom, slumped sadly against the wall like an abandoned toy .  Unlike Michael, I’d taken the time to clean out the drawers in my room, and replaced all the former occupant’s belongings with my own.  I didn’t have much in the way of personal possessions, but I had acquired a few and it felt nice to have them organised in my drawers.
    During my original expedition through the area, I’d spent a good deal of time exploring the town and scavenging anything that looked like it might fit me .  When I had returned from Hamilton with my new friends in tow, my prizes still waited where I left them.  Over the course of the last few weeks, I tried everything on and sorted the ones that fitted from the ones that didn’t.  My sister benefited from