The Road to Winter (10 page)

‘A girl! She got the virus?'

‘Don't think so. I'm pretty sure it's the cut that's the problem. She's got a bad fever.'

‘Where'd she come from?'

I take a deep breath and tell him as much of Rose's story as I can remember, including that Kas is still out there. He listens carefully. After two winters it's almost beyond belief that this could happen. I reckon he's sizing up how all this might affect him, whether he's safe or in more danger because of what I've done. When I'm finished, he sits for a long time, thinking.

‘Bloody hell,' he finally says. ‘That's a game changer.'

There's something reassuring in the way he says this. It's getting darker, but I think I can see a smile on his face.

‘There's something else, Ray. She's pregnant.'

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Are you sure?'

‘She's sure.'

‘How old is she?'

‘Nineteen.'

Ray sits quietly, scratching his beard. The rain has started up again, bouncing off the corrugated iron roof.

‘I'm not sure what help I can be,' he says. ‘I don't know much about babies. You know me and Harriet never had any kids. Not for want of trying, mind you.' There's a chuckle in his voice.

‘I've got no idea about babies either,' I say. ‘I know where they come from, but not anything about helping someone
have
a baby.'

‘How many months do you reckon she is?'

‘Dunno. She didn't say. You can see her belly's swollen, though.'

‘All right. You know Harriet was a nurse? She would've known what to do. Pretty sure there're still some of her textbooks somewhere we can dig out. But it sounds as though we've gotta get the girl through this fever first.'

I like the way Ray is saying
we.
I remember the rabbit in my bag and get it out for him.

‘It's not much, but I've been a bit pressed for time. He's a freshy, though. Caught this morning.'

‘Good lad. I've been missing my bunny stews. I've got a jar of honey for you. Cleaned out the hive yesterday. And how're you off for spuds and carrots?'

‘Run out. Just a few onions and some garlic and parsley in the garden.'

‘All right, then. Bring me some of that parsley when you come out next,' he says, rummaging around in a sack on the floor. ‘Here's a few spuds and I pulled the carrots yesterday.
The girl'll need lots of fluid. Soups, that sort of thing. And…'

He stops mid-sentence.

‘Wait here.' He gets to his feet slowly, heads out the back door and is gone for a good ten minutes. When he reappears, he's holding a chicken by its legs, its body limp, its neck wobbling against his thigh. I can't remember when I last ate chicken. I haven't wanted to kill the wild ones around town because I like the eggs. I know Ray's only got a few left that haven't been taken by foxes.

‘You didn't have to do that, Ray.'

‘It's all right. Let's get that girl well again. Whenever I was crook Harriet made up the best chicken soup. Boil it up with the veggies and force her to eat it, if you have to. Keep the bones for stock. Mix the honey with hot water and give it to her. And when she's well enough, bring her out to meet me. Then we'll work out how to find her sister.'

I can't help it. I throw my arms around him in the dark and hug him. He rocks on his feet then leans in and holds me tight. We've never done this before, but it seems like things are changing, like Rose's arrival might mean there's more hope. Even if the hope is mixed with danger.

He ruffles my hair. ‘From what you've told me, she's a tough little bugger. She'll pull through. Now,' he says, ‘you'd best get going before it gets too dark.'

‘Thanks so much, Ray.'

‘You look after yourself, young fella,' Ray says when Rowdy and I are ready to leave. Then he smiles and says, ‘I see you're
talking a bit better. I'm guessing she's been at you about it?' ‘What'd you mean?'

‘Well, y'know, you always talked a bit strange, kinda half-boy, half-dog.'

‘You never said anything about it before.'

‘Didn't see the point. I could understand you just the same.'

I've got the chicken in my backpack and Rowdy's dancing around, going apeshit with the smell of it. It's dark now, but a quarter-moon has risen. We're halfway across the front paddock when Ray calls.

‘What's her name?'

‘Rose,' I call back.

‘Like the flower.'

‘Yeah,' I say. ‘Like the flower.'

I don't want to scare Rose when I get back so I wait out by the shed and whistle a couple of times. When there's no response, I figure she's asleep and go through the back door into the kitchen.

It's somehow darker inside. I grab the torch off the kitchen bench and, leaving it switched off, make my way to Rose's room. I almost trip on something big and soft on the floor. My heart jumps when I flick the torch on to find Rose lying across the doorway.

She flinches with the light. There's spew on the floor and her whole body, wrapped and twisted in a sheet, is wet.

Rowdy slips past me and starts nuzzling into her, licking her face. She groans and tries to push herself up against the doorframe.

I help her to sit up. She breathes out heavily and wipes her hand across her face.

‘Rose, are you okay?'

‘No sign of Kas?'

‘No, not yet. Let's get you back into bed. I've got some food from Ray.'

‘I've made a mess. Spewed everywhere.'

‘That's okay. We'll put you in my bed. Then I can clean up in here.'

She's too weak to argue, but she does ask me to turn off the torch. In the dark she allows me to lift her up and unwind her body from the sheet. She's naked. I try to prop her against the wall, but her whole weight falls into me and I can feel her breasts and belly pushing against me. Her arms are around my neck, and I lift her off her feet and carry her down the hallway. She is so light; I can't work out whether she's lost weight since she got here or if she was like that when she arrived. All I'm conscious of is her face pushed into my chest and her small gasps for air.

I lower her onto my bed as carefully as I can and pull the covers over her.

‘We'll be okay, Finn, won't we?' she whispers.

‘Yeah, course. But let me look at your hand again, and change the bandage. And you need to have some more of the antibiotics.'

Heading back to the kitchen I look into the other room. The stench is pretty gross and the bed is wet through.

When I come back, Rose is drowsy, but she drinks the water with the tablets while I unwrap her wound. It's still inflamed and there's pus congealed along the line of the stitches.

‘You'd make a great nurse,' she murmurs, and attempts a smile as I begin to clean it.

‘I don't think it's any worse. The antibiotics might be starting to kick in.'

‘Hmm. Hope so.'

This is the last thing she says before she heaves a sigh and falls asleep. She's got the sheet pulled up to her chin and her hair, all knotted and tangled, spreads across the pillow. I want to touch her face, but she looks so peaceful and calm that I leave her and go start the tidy up.

It takes a while to strip the bed, clean the floor and mop up. I'm stuffed after everything that's happened today—until I remember the chicken. I need to deal with it while it's fresh.

It's a long and dirty job, and it's getting on by the time I finish. Finally, I give in to the exhaustion. The empty room still smells like spew, so I drag the mattress in next to Rose and lay it on the floor. I convince myself I need to be here if she wakes up, but really I just want to lie and listen to her breathing.

I'm woken in the morning by something sharp sticking into my ribs. I roll over, but there's something on the other side too. I open my eyes. Rose is looking down from her bed.

‘When did you start growing feathers?' she says, grinning.

‘What?'

I sit up and I'm covered in little feathers from plucking the chicken in the dark last night. I brush them off as best I can.

‘How you feeling?' I ask.

‘Bit better, I think,' she says. ‘Tired.'

There's colour in her face and her eyes look brighter.

‘What happened yesterday?' she asks. ‘And where'd all those feathers come from?'

Now I grin. ‘Ray. He gave us a chicken. He wants to meet you. Wants to help us, if he can. He can't travel, but as soon as you get well enough we'll go out and visit him.'

‘Chicken? A real chicken?'

‘No, a rubber one. With feathers.'

This makes her laugh. ‘You're an idiot!'

And more than anything else, more than the antibiotics and the chicken and Ray's offer to help, this laugh makes me think she's going to be okay.
We
are going to be okay. She's weak and I can see her arm is still swollen, but it's like something has turned. She lies back on the pillow and I think she's gone to sleep again, but when I get up her eyes are open. She's staring at the ceiling.

‘I dreamed of Kas last night,' she says. ‘She was here, safe with us.'

‘We'll find her. I promise.'

‘I'm so weak I'd only slow you down. I was thinking… Maybe you could go and look for her on your own? You'll have a better chance of finding her. In a day or so I'll be able
to look after myself here. There's enough food.'

I sit on the edge of the bed. ‘But what if the Wilders come? You won't be able to run. Or defend yourself.'

‘We have to take that chance. Kas's been on her own out there for three days now.'

‘Not on her own, remember? She's got someone with her.'

Rose snorts. ‘Yeah, another
kid
. They'll be no help against Ramage.'

It's hard to argue with her logic. She would slow me down and there's every chance the infection could come back if she doesn't rest. I know the country this side of Pinchgut Junction well enough to stay off the roads. It worries me that I've only got a vague idea of where Kas might be, but it's a chance I might just have to take. I could take some food from here and hunt along the way.

‘There's something else, Finn.' There's a quiver in her voice now. ‘I'm more pregnant than I look; about six months, I reckon. Maybe more.'

‘Does Kas know?'

‘Yeah,' Rose says, quietly. ‘I had to tell someone. She'll be worried sick.'

I walk out into the kitchen. This plan seems to make sense, though I need to work it through in my mind. Rose will have to look after herself while I'm gone. But what's the alternative? It could take another couple of weeks for her to be well enough to travel and that's another couple of weeks further into her pregnancy. She's only going to get slower and there's
always the possibility of harming the baby. Or worse: both of us being caught by Ramage and his men. Maybe I can draw Rose a map to Ray's place and if I'm not back in a week she could go out there on her own?

All of this is streaming through my head as I cut the chicken into pieces and put it into a big pot with the last of the onion and garlic, along with a couple of Ray's carrots and potatoes. I'd prefer to roast it all. I can't remember when I last had roast chicken, but I know the soup will be easier for Rose to eat. And if I go ahead with the plan I can take some of the meat with me.

Once I've turned the gas on and set it to cooking, I look in on Rose. She's sleeping. The light is coming in through a crack in the curtains and it's spilling across the bed. She's got one shoulder out of the sheets now and the sun catches the little hairs at the back of her neck.

The smell of the soup soon fills the house. I sit back at the table and put my head on my arms. I must doze for a few minutes because the next thing I know Rose, wrapped in a sheet, is shaking me.

She puts her fingers to her lips. ‘Shh. Listen.'

At first all I can hear is the wind in the trees, but then, when it dies down for a few seconds, I hear the unmistakable sound of a motor. A trailbike. Not revving out, just putting along, like they're taking their time, checking things out.

The first thing I do is turn the gas off and put the pot with the chicken into the bottom cupboard. If we can smell it in
here, they might be able to out there as well. Then I draw all the blinds.

Rose has the same look on her face as she had when I first saw her on the beach: fear and anger rolled into one. She pulls me down onto the floor, then huddles against me. Rowdy gets up and growls, his tail and ears standing to attention. I motion him over to us and we hold onto him like a life jacket in the ocean.

We can hear voices but they're not close yet, maybe twenty metres away, which would put them out by the front gate. I know they won't be able to see our place. There's a screen of tea tree across what used to be the access track from the road to our house at the back of the block.