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

anything too small for me, and everything else went into storage.  You never knew what you’d need to use for trading one day.
    I pulled my drawers open one by one and added enough clean clothing to my backpack to last me three days .  Our plan was to stay for a couple of days then head back home, so I doubted that I would need any more than that.  If our plans changed, so be it.  It wouldn’t be the first time I’d had to go a bit longer than preferable without a change of clothing.
    I had started to relax my usual dress code recently, too .  During the decade I spent on my own, I’d usually worn military surplus, which was abundantly available if you knew where to look.  It wasn’t pretty, but it was hardy, long-wearing and easy to clean.  Settling into life with my group had made me reassess my priorities.  I found myself wearing casual civilian clothing more and more.  It was mostly jeans and t-shirts, but I did have a few nice outfits that I’d hidden away to surprise Michael with one day.  It amused me to imagine the look of shock on his face if he ever saw me wearing a dress.
    I pondered that fact as I changed into my travel clothes: my old cargo fatigues, paired with a dusky grey tank top .  Would I even know how to get dolled up anymore? I had gotten a wee bit of experience between puberty and when the plague hit, but a decade had passed since then.  Michael had one up on me there.  All he had to do was put on his police uniform, and suddenly he was the sexiest man alive.  What did I have? Not much of anything, really.
    With a hefty sigh, I sorted through the neat row of items sitting on top of my dresser .  My GPS went into one pocket, my taser into another, my first aid kit into a third, and my gun went into my backpack.  That should be enough for a couple of days in friendly territory, if I didn’t give in to my natural urge towards caution.
    What’s the worst that could happen? I told myself as I picked up my pack and headed back to the window on the landing.  Lake Ruatuna’s two hours away at most, over open farmland.  If something happens, we’ll just come home.
    Famous last words, my inner cynic contradicted, but I decided to ignore it.  Michael scolded me regularly for being too pessimistic, so I had made it my personal mission to try and stay positive, for his sake.  Positive, but realistic.  I wasn’t about to let a cheerful disposition get all of us killed.
    I eased myself out the window onto the walkway, and closed the window behind me .  Although it wasn’t locked from inside, someone would have to get through the motel to reach it.  That seemed pretty unlikely.  I crossed the space between my window and Michael’s and ducked back into his room.  just in time to be confronted by a very nice pair of tight, manly buttocks.
    “Well, hello there,” I teased as I hopped off the window sill onto the bed below.
    Michael shot a glance over his shoulder at me.  “Oh, you’re back.  That was fast.”
    “I pack efficiently .  Call it a skill.” I gave him a smile, then flicked a pointed look down over his body.  “Why are you naked?”
    “What?” He glanced at me again, and then looked down.  “Oh, right.  I got distracted.  Have you seen my vest?”
    I flung myself down on my belly and reached under the bed, to pull out a dark blue body armour chest piece .  “This one?”
    “That’s it!” He brightened as soon as he saw it, then came over and took it from me with a smile.  “What would I do without you?”
    “Lose things, apparently,” I answered dryly .  “You put it under there last week.  Did you forget already?”
    “I’m just not quite used to being here yet,” he admitted sheepishly, turning his back to me as he got dressed .  As sad as I was to see that delicious bottom covered up, we weren’t going to go anywhere without pants.  “I lived in that bunker for a very long time.  I’m so used to everything always being in the same