Surviving the Evacuation

by Frank Tayell

  The lights were dim in a corridor that smelled musty and stale. A faint hint of turmeric and cumin was losing a battle with fresh tobacco and stale beer. Something was wrong, and Pete worked out what just as Rampton stopped at a door. He didn’t know much about hotels, motels, or any variation between, but he knew carpet, and the one beneath his feet was expensive. A hard-wearing, two-ply, eighty percent wool mix with a polyester coating to ease cleaning. Not the most expensive, sure, but pricier than you’d find in most homes or back-offices. He guessed the other fittings would be of a similar standard, but the smell was that of a dive. People were cooking in their rooms. Living in them. And no one was cleaning.

  Rampton knocked a rat-a-tat-tat rat-a-tat on the door.

  “Yep?” came from the other side.

  “It’s me,” Rampton said.

  The door opened. Jackson, the pilot, stood the other side. The curtains in the room were drawn, only a single lamp was on, but despite the gloom, Pete saw the small handgun in Jackson’s hand. He stepped aside so Rampton and Pete could enter.

  “Mr Guinn, glad to see you’re alive,” Jackson said quietly as he closed the door. “Your sister?”

  “Alive,” Pete said. “And she called Ms Kempton.”

  “We know,” Jackson said.

  Pete took in the room. Two twin-beds, both made. Two small cases, both closed. Two small rucksacks, both ready to grab. Other than a bottle of water on the dressing table, the room was ready to be given to another guest. “You’re about to leave?”

  “That’s right,” Rampton said. “We were waiting for you, and were just reaching the point where we were going to come looking.”

  “You were? How did you know we were back at the airfield?”

  “The police inspector told us yesterday,” Jackson said.

  “She wants you to join up, to fly for them,” Pete said. “She asked me to ask you again.”

  “Sadly, we can’t,” Jackson said. “We have to complete our mission.”

  “And that involves going to Melbourne?” Pete asked. “That’s what Inspector Qwong said. But actually, I don’t think I want to know. I still don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want to know any more.”

  “Yeah, we’re going to Melbourne,” Rampton said. “We’ve an office there with supplies and colleagues. Where we’ll go after is still up in the air. This viral outbreak changes everything.”

  “Like I said, I don’t think I want to know,” Pete said. “But I told the inspector I’d come and talk to you. And I have.”

  “You’re thinking of staying here?” Rampton asked.

  “I can fit a carpet,” Pete said. “I can mix a margarita, carry six plates to a table without a tray. I can drive a forklift, stock shelves, and operate a till. None of those are useful skills now. But the inspector needs people. I can fetch and carry, and wherever I go, that’s what I’ll end up doing, so I might as well make a start here. Be useful, do what I can to stop things getting worse.”

  “That’s admirable,” Rampton said. “But you need to be practical, too. We war-gamed scenarios like this. Okay, not quite like this, but similar. This town is not going to last. When it falls, there will be chaos. Few will survive it. You need to know when to run so you can fight another day, because all the days ahead of us, they’re going to be full of fighting.”

  “Maybe,” Pete said. “But if that’s the case, then why not start fighting here? I know where I want to be, but clicking my heels together isn’t going to take me home. I mean, you guys are pilots and you have a jet, and you’re stuck here. So I guess I am, too.”

  “It’s bad out there,” Rampton said. “And it’ll get worse. Did they tell you that plane which crashed was the only major outbreak in Australia so far? Then why are there so few soldiers here? Why are there only three helicopters? Why didn’t they send in a division?”

  “I wondered that myself,” Pete said. “And, yeah, the answer’s obvious. Things are far worse than they’re saying. So what? That’s not a reason to leave.”

  “It’s not a reason to stay,” Rampton said.

  “We’ll leave tomorrow,” Jackson said. “In the late afternoon. Speak to your sister. Look around for yourself. Decide tonight. Be here at three tomorrow. This might be your only chance to get out of this town and come where you can do some good.”

  “Three tomorrow? Okay, I’ll speak to Corrie,” he said, though he’d made up his mind when he’d seen the gun in Jackson’s hand.

  He left the room, then the hotel. The group of people was gone, but the man in the linen suit was still outside. He raised a hand, and took a step away from the lamppost as if he was coming over to talk. Pete turned away, wanting to avoid another conversational minefield, took the first turning he saw and then the next after that. Five minutes later, he was lost. An hour after that, he finally found Liu’s home.

  “You look baked,” she said, opening the door.

  “I got lost,” Pete said.

  “In Broken Hill?” a small voice asked. A boy appeared behind Liu.

  “Bobby, Pete. Pete, Bobby,” Liu said, stepping aside so Pete could come in.

  “You got lost in Broken Hill?” Bobby asked. “How?”

  “Be nice, Bobby,” Liu said.

  “Sorry, Mum. But he did eat my cereal. Mrs Henderson says there won’t be any more in the shops.”

  “Is there much news?” Pete asked.

  “Yes and no,” Liu said. “Let me get you something to drink.” She walked into the kitchen. “Your sister seems to have hacked half the networks in Vancouver. Traffic cameras, security systems, even a few phones. How is she not working for the government? Or ruling the world?”

  “A question I asked her a few times. There’s news of your daughter, then?”

  “Not exactly. Her apartment is a mess, which is a good sign, but she’s not there. Corrie is still looking. But Vancouver is doing okay. They have barricades in the streets, police on patrol with… I assume they’re civilians, but they’re armed. I think she’ll be okay there.”

  “Everywhere else?” Pete asked.

  Liu glanced at Bobby who was half-listening, half sorting through a stack of battered paperbacks. “Not so great,” she said. “But it could be worse.”

  Pete nodded. The world was holding its breath, collectively uncertain if that was also its final gasp.

  Chapter 15 - Only a Corpse

  Bromide Street, Broken Hill

  23rd February

  Pete was woken by knocking. As he clawed his way up from the depths of sleep, he realised it was someone at the door. The door to where? It all came back to him. The bungalow. Broken Hill. It hadn’t been a nightmare, but a memory. He opened his eyes and sat up, shaking his head to banish the fog. Corrie was sprawled on the too-small sofa, the laptop open next to her. There was another knock at the door.

  “Yep, coming,” Pete said, pushing himself to his feet. Bobby Higson was outside.

  “Mum says that she’s made breakfast,” Bobby said.

  “Oh, thanks,” Pete said. “It’s morning, then?”

  “When else do you have breakfast?” Bobby asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Have you found Clemmie yet?”

  “Um… Corrie?” Pete looked over to the sofa where his sister was dragging herself back to consciousness.

  “Not yet,” Corrie said. “Ran out of power on the laptop, but Vancouver is holding it together.”

  “Oh, okay,” Bobby said and, disappointed, trudged back to the house.

  “How much sleep have you had?” Pete asked. “How much have I had?”

  “Not enough, to answer both questions together,” Corrie said.

  “There’s a cloud in the sky,” Pete said. “Two of them. Wow. Never thought I’d be so glad to see something so commonplace.” He closed the door. “I dreamed of… actually, no, I don’t want to remember.”

  “You were muttering in your sleep. Yelling, really.”

  “I was? Sorry.”

  “I had the same
images going around my head while awake,” she said. “It’s why I didn’t really sleep. I don’t think I’ll be able to for weeks.”

  “You were up all night, online?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t call it online, not exactly, not using the meaning that word had last week. I didn’t learn much. Clemmie has an always-on security camera system in her apartment. It took a while to find the path to it, but the apartment was empty, and no one has been back since I first gained remote access.”

  “That sounds bad,” Pete said.

  “Not really,” Corrie said. “The camera is in the living room, facing the small kitchen, so I can’t see inside the bedrooms. What I can see is a lot of discarded food packaging on the table. It’s a two-person apartment, privately rented, but in a block only used by female students. It isn’t a big place, there’s not much room for storage, and students don’t have the money to buy in bulk. I would say that Clemmie and her roommate packed hastily and left. The question is where they might have gone. Liu’s given me a few places, but what are the chances a mom knows where her teenage daughter might hang out?”

  “Like I said, sounds bad.”

  “The sensible thing for someone to do is to stay put if you’ve got the resources to stay there for a few weeks. If not, get out ahead of the mob,” Corrie said. “But wherever Clemmie intended to go might not be where she ended up, and even if I find her today, she might have left by tomorrow. By the day after, there’s a good chance the internet will be down for good. If I had a better computer, or a better connection, or preferably both, I’m still not sure I could find her. Vancouver’s okay, though. There were a few fires, but also fire-trucks heading to the emergency. Things are tense, but it’s under control.”

  “And zombies?” he asked.

  “Not that I saw.”

  “What about her husband, Scott?”

  “Liu doesn’t know which country he’s in. Europe’s bad, though. Collapsing, like a lot of the U.S. and Eastern Canada.”

  “Like Indiana?” Pete asked.

  “Yes. Sorry. Do you want me to try to find Olivia?”

  “What would be the point? I can’t help her so it’s better not to know.”

  “That’s what I think.”

  “It’s pancakes and nearly-fresh fruit,” Liu said.

  “But no cereal,” Bobby said, pulling the box closer towards him.

  “Fair enough,” Pete said. “I’m the same with churros. And pizza. Popcorn, candy, chips, ice cream. Pretty much everything that isn’t healthy, which is mostly all I eat.”

  Bobby gave a suspicious frown, and moved his bowl a few inches further away from Pete.

  “I thought we should use the eggs and milk before they go bad,” Liu said.

  “We should get some more,” Bobby said. “I can go buy some for you. After breakfast.”

  “Nowhere’s open,” Liu said.

  “Yeah, but they’ll be open again soon,” Bobby said.

  “I hope so. Now eat your cereal, or I’ll give it to Pete.”

  Bobby wrapped his arm protectively around the bowl, lowered his head, and began shovelling spoonfuls into his mouth.

  Corrie came in, the laptop under her arm.

  “Any news?” Liu asked.

  “Not really,” Corrie said. “The broadcast last night on the TV was telling the truth.”

  “What broadcast?” Pete asked.

  “It was after you went to bed,” Liu said. “A statement from the government, read by Anna Dodson. I don’t know if she wrote it, though. Didn’t seem her style, but she’s popular, trusted. I suppose that’s why she was picked to read it. They said things are bad, but they don’t need to get any worse if we all keep our heads, and help one another out.”

  Pete guessed there was more, but that neither woman wanted to share it while Bobby was present.

  “And no sign of Clemmie yet,” Corrie said. “But looking for her is like waiting for a needle to jump out of a haystack and back into the packet.”

  “I’ve an idea about that,” Liu said, and went into the office, returning a moment later with a pile of maps. “I know Clemmie. She’ll have gone somewhere safe, but she doesn’t know that many places. What she does know are some of the smaller airfields in British Columbia. Before Scott went to Europe, after flights to China, he bounced his way across the Pacific to visit her.”

  “You think she’d go to an airfield?” Corrie asked.

  “If she had to…” Liu glanced over at Bobby, but he was focused on demolishing his cereal. “If she had to leave the city, she’d go somewhere remote, but with people and electricity. Somewhere she’d be welcomed. It’s a long shot, I know, but I can’t think of anywhere else.”

  “It’ll take some time,” Corrie said. “But okay, yeah, I can see what I can do.”

  “Can I have a pancake, Mum?” Bobby asked.

  “One. And only one,” Liu said.

  Bobby speared one, dragging it onto a plate.

  There was a knock at the door. “That’s Tess,” Liu said. “Bobby, no. Finish what’s on your plate. Then you can go next door.”

  She headed to the front door while Bobby stuffed the remaining half a pancake into his mouth.

  “No,” Liu called from out of sight. “Don’t stuff. Chew, then swallow. Then you can leave the table.”

  Bobby hurriedly chewed and swallowed. “How does she do that?” he muttered, before running for the door.

  Liu came back a moment later, alone, and put the kettle on. “Tess is taking him next door,” she said. “When we moved out here, we knew there were going to be dangers for our kids, but letting them go down the street on their own wasn’t one of them.”

  Inspector Qwong came in a moment later, and sat at the table. “You went to see your pilot friends yesterday,” she said, leaving the comment hanging.

  “I said we were staying,” Pete said. “I asked them whether they wanted to do the same, like you asked, but they want to go to Melbourne.”

  “Glad to hear you don’t,” Qwong said. “And I’m not sure how they’re planning to get to Melbourne, not unless they can find someone who’ll sell them a car.”

  “Is there news?” Liu asked.

  “The start of some,” Qwong said. “And I got most of it from Anna Dodson. She managed to reach her dad on the radio. Had to be careful, what with so many people listening in. The upshot of it all is that we’re getting some trains tomorrow to move tourists and miners out of here. There are a few dozen military vehicles coming in tonight who’ll escort a convoy of locals out as well. Families, children, the elderly; anyone who wants to leave. I don’t know what the destinations are, other than it’s south.”

  “And then what?” Liu asked. “What’s the plan? I assume there is one?”

  “I hope so,” Qwong said. “All Anna said was they’re putting together a coalition in the Pacific. We’ve got to save ourselves, then we can worry about the rest of the world. Otherwise, she didn’t say anything different from her broadcast. Did you catch that?”

  “It was too vague to be reassuring,” Liu said. “I made your breakfast. Pancakes and fruit.”

  “No bacon?” Qwong asked.

  Liu raised an eyebrow. “Healthy heart, healthy mind, Tess.” She handed the inspector a plastic box and an insulated mug. “And tea, not coffee. Just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean we should get into bad habits.”

  “And with all the cafes closed, you know I won’t. Thanks, Liu. What about these two?”

  “They can stay here for now. We’re getting along well enough,” Liu said.

  “Good. That’s one less job for the day. I’ll see you this evening, but it might be late.”

  “I’ll save you a plate,” Liu said. The inspector left. Liu reached for her hat. “I’ve a few chores in town. I’ll be gone an hour or two.”

  “Do you want a hand?” Pete asked. “I could do with the exercise. And it looks like Corrie’s lost to the world.”

  “When it comes to c
hores, I’ll never say no to an extra pair of hands,” Liu said.

  The early morning was pleasantly warm rather than oppressively simmering. A third cloud had joined the two he’d seen when he’d woken. On reflection, he decided they might be three entirely new clouds.

  “We’ll take the long cut,” Liu said. “Best we give Kate Morsten a wide berth.”

  “Which way is north?” he asked. “I’m trying to orient myself.”

  “Thinking of home?” Liu asked.

  “Not really,” he said. “If anything, I’m trying not to. There’s no way of getting home.”

  “There’s that plane of yours,” Liu said.

  “It’s not mine,” he said. “No, what’s it they say, that home is where you hang your hat even if it’s a borrowed one. Have you known Inspector Qwong for long?”

  “First friend I made when we moved here. It was easy for the kids, well, easy for Bobby. Not as easy for Clemmie, but that’s a different story. I met Tess in a book club. First one I ever went to. We were discussing a murder mystery. She went through it line by line, pointing out everything the police did wrong. It was hilarious. But Tess went through some tough times a few years ago. I started taking breakfast to her. After a couple of months, one morning, she turned up at my door to collect it, and she has ever since. When Scott’s away, she pops over in the evenings. When he’s here, she’ll sometimes keep a watch on Bobby, and give us an evening out.”

  “It’s a close community out here,” Pete said.

  “Yes and no. It’s a town with a town’s problems, but we keep an eye on one another. We have to, and that’s what I’m doing today. I’ve got to check on Joey Thurlow. He’s not been taking care of himself since his wife died last year. His kids are in Adelaide now, and he should have gone south to be with them and his grandkids, but his wife’s buried here. I do the books for his cafe, and keep an eye on the staff for him. Or I did. Sue and Jocelyn drove off as soon as word about Manhattan came in.”

  “Quite a lot of people seem to have done that,” Pete said. Ahead, a trio of young men stood by an open-doored car. A fourth man had crawled inside, a tape measure in hand.