The Life Beyond Read Online Free PDF

car, guns in hand, when Tyler broke the silence.
    “We should discuss everything tonight when the others are asleep,” he said.
    Hope surged within me. Hastily I pushed it back down, knowing how dangerous it could be in this life.
    “Tonight,” we agreed, before stepping outside.
    Geoffrey parked behind us but we didn’t wait for them before checking our surroundings. Even the birds had fallen silent and the soft rushing of the wind was the only sound. But were we alone? We walked up to the entrance of the chapel where an old rusted sign announced its opening hours.
    The wooden door felt rough against my palm as I pushed it open. Joshua aimed a gun at the inside but it was empty. We stepped into the gloomy building. Saints watched us from high above on the walls, their benevolent faces smiling eternally. Plaster and chunks of concrete littered the right-hand side of the chapel where the ceiling had caved in beneath the dome. Light streamed through the hole and the small windows. The pews emitted a smell of rotten wood. A side-door led into the inner courtyard. I raised my gun and went outside.
    The rose bushes had grown out of control; creating a riot of yellow, red and pink. Their wild beauty provided the perfect hiding place for any predators. We inched forward onto the narrow walkway that led to the center. A palm tree had toppled over and fallen on the roof of the inner archway. Several broken red shingles peeked through the overgrown lawn. We moved along the arcade toward another wooden door that led into the main building. My heart sank as I realized that there were no other survivors here. A tiny part of me had hoped we’d find someone.
    The inside of the mission was nothing like Safe-haven. It lacked the chandeliers, carpets and cosy atmosphere of the vineyard. Instead it was vast and cold and had the feel of a place that had lain empty and unloved for some time. The kitchen looked like it was two hundred years old. It had rough stone floors and wooden chairs and a table from the colonial era. Aside from that, there was almost no furniture, not a single bed. Since we didn’t have enough sleeping bags a few of us would have to share. And we’d have to gather firewood if we wanted to cook anything on the old stove, but at least it didn’t require electricity.
    There was lots of space for all of us though, and for more survivors. The dome provided a perfect place for two of us to keep watch at night, with a good overlook of the surroundings. It didn’t feel homely, but it felt like it might be safe.
    Mom sank to the ground of our sleeping quarters. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the zip of her sleeping bag as she stared out of the window. It was encrusted with dust and dead mosquitos, and the way it was divided into eight even squares gave the room a prison feel. Mom’s eyes were empty. The knitting needles lay in her lap. Mia snuggled against her but she didn’t notice. “Mom?” Mia’s voice was small. “Where will I sleep?” Her fingers clutched at Mom’s arm.
    No reaction.
    My stomach squeezed into a tight knot. I took the sleeping bag from Mom and unzipped it. “You’ll share this with Mom, okay?” I brushed Mia’s unkempt hair from her face. She nodded, lower lip quivering. Snot had dried under her nose and strawberry jam was smeared across her cheek. I fetched a wet cloth and wiped her face with it. Mia didn’t even grimace like she used to.
    “It’ll be all right. I’ll sleep right next to you,” I said. She buried her face in my chest. My fingers loosened the knots in her hair and her breathing deepened.
    Click click.
    “Mom?” I whispered.
    She ignored me and continued knitting.
    Click. Click.
    Images from the bunker flitted through my head; Grandma sitting on the sofa, knitting incessantly since Grandpa had died and we’d had to store him in the freezer beside our dwindling supplies.
    Careful not to wake Mia, I gripped Mom’s arm. “Mom?”
    She looked at me but the needles