"They were the lucky ones," Pearl grouses. I let her.

 

She's only really happy when she's got something to moan about, even if it is nonsense. Besides, she hates weeding, hates it with a raw passion, and if I interrupt she'll use that as an excuse to skive off, wallowing in fake anger until I've finished the job.

 

Besides, it's good to have company, even if she does whinge a bit. I spent too many months alone here, after.

I never can figure how the weeds even get here. It's nine stories up, but there are always weeds sprouting anyway. Some are truly nasty if they take root, but once they're up and out they're just compost. I'll take them down later. Pearl still isn't used to compost, thinks it's disgusting.

 

Weeding is soon done, and we're back under cover before the sun is fully up. We're the highest building, but still. You never know who's watching. Better off safe.

 

It always surprises me nobody else thought of sheltering in the Resort. Of course it was closed at the time, but that only means there weren't any guests. Beds were made, minibars full, storerooms stocked: Paradise.

 

(Mind you, I did disable the elevators and torch all three stairwells once I got here. I'm not crazy. But no hunting party's ever made it even as far as the second floor, not in all this time.)

 

But, I mean, surely some of the staff must have survived. Ninety-six people worked here at the height of the season, the largest single employer on the island. I'd kept a kitchen key from my summer working here, and this was the first place I ran to. It just made sense.

 

Pearl's different. No idea how she managed to survive this long. I found her fleeing a hunting party while I was out on a scrounge. All she did was scream and run, and that's what gets you killed, you know. No sense, that girl. I clapped a hand over her mouth and we hid until they were well past us.

 

She's seen them and lived. More than I've done.

 

I can hear another hunting crew in the streets below, and I motion Pearl to silence. She's learned fast, and now a gesture is all it takes. They always come round after I've done one of my scavenging runs but never think to look up. If their pattern holds they'll be gone again in minutes. I wonder for the dozenth time if they left motion sensors behind somewhere, and for the dozenth time I put it out of my mind. No sense worrying about what you can't control.

 

Ah; that's all right. They're moving off. It's the beep of their scanners. Carries for miles, now there's no mechanical noises to drown it out. Before, we never gave any thought to how loud things were. Now I spend half my days finding ways to muffle the freezer and the hand winch I built for the cargo elevator.

 

The roof is mostly crops now, that and solar panels. Some things, like tomatoes and sweet corn, just won't stand the rains we get here, not even after I set the windbreaks up. Those plants that can't take it, I grow in raised beds down in the south-facing guest rooms. Last time down in town, I found two whole cases of canning jars, so from here on there's going to be sauce year-round if we want it. I keep hoping to catch some chickens, but there aren't many left. Anyway, we must have a hundred years worth of powdered eggs in the storeroom. Funny to think a fancy hotel would serve powdered eggs, but that's what they all did back in the day.

 

Pearl is complaining again, one never-ending whine. I ignore her mostly, but sometimes a word snags my attention on the way by. Today she's missing the music app on her cell phone. I tell her I'll try and find her some headphones and a CD player my next time down below.

 

Mostly what I wish is to find more people somehow. There's food enough for twenty, easy. Another woman would be nice. Pearl won't touch me. I'm black-black and she's light cream. You'd think that sorta thing would have ended with the rest of the world, but it didn't, and I'm never going to force a woman so that's that. Trouble is, she's the only human being I've seen, except once long ago a sailboat went past.

 

Maybe I should have been braver in the beginning, gone out looking. But then I think, everyone else who did must be dead by now or I'd see some sign of them when I'm out. Not much point to a search if you don't survive it.

 

Oh no! What is she— My God! She's turned the karaoke machine on! Doesn't she know that'll pull that hunting party right back down on us?

 

Quickly I run to the roof and unplug it. She's yelling at me, top of her lungs. Drunk, damn fool. Got to quiet her down.

 

I've wrapped her in a rug. Cost me several scrapes and a black eye, but I managed. She's still screaming but it's muffled, and I'm going to put her down in one of the guest rooms. They're pretty well soundproofed, but just in case she'll go in a closet.

 

Too late. I can hear them coming, hear their sensors beep. They'll know there's someone here, someone they missed, and they won't give up after a quick sweep. Not this time.

 

There's nothing else for it. I'm going to have to go down and lead them off. No sense surviving if they find this place, not after all the work I've put in. I've never lived so well, not in my whole life, and I'm not going back now.

 

If I don't get back soon, Pearl can escape that rug. If she uses her wits. If not she's dead anyway, fool girl.