Free The Survivors (Book 1): Summer by V. L. Dreyer Page B

learned enough over the years to be self-sufficient.  My father had taught me the basics of automotive engineering when I was a teenager, and I’d picked up a bit at school as well.  The rest was really just logic, combined with large amounts of trial and error.
    It didn't take me long to figure out that the heating coil was blown.  I could replace it, but I would have to find another one in order to do so.  There were quite a few homes scattered around the outlying reaches of town.  With any luck, one of them might have a spare.  
    Another problem for another day.
    On the plus side, at least now that I knew where all the bodies were, I was less worried about stumbling over a corpse in an unexpected place.  You never quite got over the horror of tripping over a dead person when you didn’t expect it, particularly if the corpse belonged to a child.
    I eased myself out of the cupboard where the hot water cylinder lived and stood up, and then I moved to the window to check on the weather.  There were clouds rolling in from the west again, thicker and darker than the ones the night before, warning me of foul weather yet to come.  I opened the window and stuck my head outside, drawing in a deep breath through my mouth and nose.  Sure enough, the tell-tale taste of a storm was on the air.
    Probably best to stay indoors then, rather than out in the open.
    There were still a few hours left before dark, and at least a couple before the storm arrived, so I decided to use them wisely.  I returned to the automotive workshop, to see if I could salvage one of the cars.
    They were a pack of rust-buckets after so many years without maintenance, but not entirely without hope.  There were even a couple of different choices.  There was a sedan up on the hoist, and another out in the yard, a hatchback parked by the gate, and a four wheel drive under shelter.  I chose the four wheel drive, for practicality and comfort.
    After the end of the world, you couldn’t really trust the roads to be well-maintained.
    I found the keys in the office, discarded amongst piles of records that probably once meant something to someone, but not to me.  I didn't care who the owner of the vehicle was.  If they were still alive, they would probably have taken it already.  No one had claimed it, so that made it mine.
    It was a good machine, a double-cab Hilux with a canopy over the back; solid and well-built.  One thing I’d learned is that Japanese cars really were made to last, and the parts were common and easy to find.
    After a quick peek through the windows to check for corpses and rats, I unlocked the driver's door and climbed behind the wheel.  The interior was still in good condition, less dusty than most due to being safely sealed for almost a decade.  The smell was a little off, but that could be fixed with a bit of airing out.  Resting one hand upon the wheel, I put my foot on the brake, slipped the keys into the ignition and turned.
    Nothing.
    Ah well, you didn’t get something for nothing in the scavenger's life.  I tried the key again, listening closely for telltale sounds that would let me know what was wrong.  Again, there was nothing.
    I concluded that the battery was flat, and hauled myself back out of the driver’s seat.  Not all that surprising; most of them died after a while.  I popped the bonnet and propped it up with its little metal arm, then leaned in to get a closer look.  A few cobwebs, but not much in the way of rust.  That was a good sign.  The battery terminals could use a good clean, but I knew how to take care of that with no trouble at all.  
    I didn't bother trying to find another vehicle to jump start the battery.  After ten years, there was just no point.  It was safe to say that the other cars were just as dead.  However, I did strike it lucky and find a mobile charger not two metres away, in good enough condition that it looked like it would still work.  It took me a couple of minutes to