The Survivors (Book 1): Summer Read Online Free PDF

through a text to my father to pass on the message.
    Once it was sent, I resumed staring out the window.  A green government-issue road sign rolled past, announcing that the township we were about to enter was some little town called Ohaupo, a tiny place that was nothing more than a blip on the map.
    ***
    Present Day
    I stared at the painting, thinking back over the way I felt when I first came here at the age of eighteen.  I had been passing through on my way to somewhere else, but my first impression of the place was that it looked dull, like one of those little country towns where old people go to die.  Back then, it had been alive and full of people.  
    Well, not full in the Auckland sense of the word, but there were people nevertheless.
    It looked like they were all gone now. They were either dead, lingering in the purgatory of undeath, or had left for other places.  There was a thick layer of dust on the little decorative table directly beneath the painting, and the tiny china figures were faded and dirty.
    Faded and dirty, kind of like Mum and Dad and little Skylar , I thought.  The idea brought tears to my eyes.  I hadn't seen any of them in so long.  It hurt just to think about them.
    I shoved that thought back into the little corner of my mind that kept me awake at night, and tried to focus on the task at hand.  There were only a couple of hours of daylight left, and it was best for me to use them wisely.
    At the end of the hallway stood yet another door, this one hanging slightly ajar.  An angular beam of afternoon sunlight shone through the crack, making the dust stirred up by my footsteps sparkle like fairy dust.  I pressed the door open with one hand, the other resting on the pocket where I kept my taser, just in case.
    I needn't have bothered.  Nothing stirred within.
    The place had stood undisturbed for years, a time capsule dating back to a whole other era.  The landing opened into a small living room, with an antique couch and a plump armchair sitting in front of a box television that was probably older than me.
    Dust coated everything, shimmering in the rays of afternoon sunshine that filtered through net curtains.  Behind the television, large windows overlooked the street below, framed by thick curtains in an old damask print that gave the room a special kind of rustic charm.  Shelves covered in knick-knacks decorated the walls, and an old, framed black and white photograph of a happy couple on their wedding day took centre stage directly above the television.
    Beside the photograph was a small urn, just big enough to hold a person’s ashes.  I stepped closer and stared at it, then reached out to brush away the dust that blurred the inscription.  It bore a woman's name and a short verse.
    Margaret.
    Beloved wife, beloved mother.
    Rest forever in Heaven.
    I stood back to consider it, feeling an unexpected rush of relief course through me.  It hurt to think of an innocent little old lady going through what Benny had to suffer – or worse, having to watch him go through it.  But she had been dead long before he became infected.  She was already at peace, and never knew what would happen to her home and her world.  That thought gave me some sense of peace, as well.
    Perhaps later on, I would bury them together.  It seemed like the right thing to do.

Chapter Five
    I sneezed violently.
    Mum would be so proud, I thought dryly as I rubbed my nose.  God knows that I never did this much dusting at home.  Still, if I wanted to make this little loft into my new home then it would have to be clean.  It was hard enough to find food and water without a crusty layer of dust getting all over everything.
    An hour earlier, I had finished my inspection of the little apartment, and found that there really wasn’t much to it.  A tiny kitchen opened up off the living room, with a stove, a fridge and a decent-sized pantry. At the far end of the living room, a door led into a small bedroom with an