The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn Read Free Page A

project while the weather was still fine.  I was glad for the assistance, not just because that it would get the work done faster, but also because it gave me an excuse to spend time with him.  That, and he had twice my physical strength, which was handy in construction projects.  A girl had to be practical in our day and age.
    With his help, we managed to get a railing up around half of the south-eastern side of the roof before the weather started to close in again .  I barely heard the distant rumble of thunder over the sound of my own hammering, but Michael did.
    “Storm’s coming back,” he informed me as I wriggled out from beneath the construction we were erecting .  He helped me to my feet, and together we watched the clouds gathering in the distance.
    “Looks like a bad one,” I said .  He nodded his agreement.  A strong gust of wind blew, almost knocking me off my feet.  All of a sudden, I was glad that I’d put a few extra nails into the new railing.
    “We should get everything that’s not nailed down inside,” Michael suggested.
    “Yeah, and let’s do it fast,” I agreed immediately.  After ten years on my own, I’d learned to read the weather like a book, and this one had the smell of trouble all over it.  It was late summer heading into autumn; while we often got storms at that time of year, this one felt different. 
    We both hurried to gather up our tools and the left-over wood, and raced back down the ladder to the relative safety of ground level.
    There, we found the doctor had anticipated our next step and was in the process of covering up our little garden with a frame I’d made for just that purpose.  We tossed our tools into the safety of one of the downstairs storage rooms, and then ran over to help him.  We had the garden battened down and protected by the time the first of the rain started to splatter down around us.  Thunder rumbled ominously, getting closer with each passing moment.
    Michael froze and looked over his shoulder towards the lobby .  “Wait, what was that noise?”
    “What noise?” I followed his gaze, but didn’t see anything.
    “I could have sworn I heard engines,” he mumbled, half to himself .  He headed off towards the front door to check, so I followed him.  The wind caught the door as soon as he opened it, forcing him to put his weight behind it to get it to open all the way.
    I shoved my hair back out of my face as the wind tried to blind me with it, and peered off into the distance .  “I still don’t hear anything.”
    A blur of tabby fur bounded past us as Tigger took the opportunity to escape from the incoming storm .  She danced between our feet, and then vanished into the depths of the motel.
    “I’m sure I heard something.” Michael frowned, leaning heavily against the door to keep it open.
    “I really don’t—” Then I paused and tilted my head, straining to listen .  “No, wait, you’re right – I hear it too.  That sounds like farm bikes.”
    Sure enough, it was .  A pair of figures on little motorcycles skidded around the corner a heartbeat later, struggling to keep their balance against the surging winds.  I waved to them and beckoned them towards us as soon as I recognised the riders as friends: Anahera and Hemi, members of the Maori group that lived not far away.  They came to a stop a half-dozen meters from the entrance.  I hurried out of the safety of the building to help Anahera with her bike.
    The leader of the Maori tribe was bundled against the weather in a heavy anorak with the hood pulled up over her head, but the wind was so strong it tugged her glossy black curls in every direction .  I fell in beside her and helped her wheel her bike into the safety of our lobby, with her son close behind us.  Once we were all safely inside, Michael eased the door closed and bolted it shut behind us.
    “We may have underestimated the weather,” Anahera said, sounding out of breath as we rolled her bike over to a