by Matt Pike
There was another sea of beds after the next lot of shelving. The blood trail led right by it. There was another round of eye contact with Zoe before we looked at the remaining aisles of the store. It was all the rest of the shelving from the former store, pressed up close to each other and with all manner of items stored on its shelves.
I didn’t like the look of it one bit. It had Fat-Man-death-trap written all over it.
I could see his blood trail leading into the matrix. I did my best to crouch down and see if I could spot a set of limping legs through the gaps, but it was too dimly lit and thick with all manner of stuff. I exchanged a final nod with Zoe before we both headed forward.
Everything unfolded so quickly from that point.
I remember giving myself some distance between my approach and the corner the blood trailed down. I eased forward - small, light steps. I was almost to the point where the aisle opened up in front of me when I heard a smashing sound, followed by the exchange of gunfire. It stopped as suddenly as it started, replaced by the sound of the shuffling footsteps.
Zoe let out a scream.
I swore, then ran towards the action. Well, whatever passed for running in my state. All I knew was I had no faster speed in me. I couldn’t see anything at the other end - no movement, no clues as to what had happened. I couldn’t hear anything either - no gunfire and nothing else made more noise than me scrambling down the narrow aisle of supplies.
That damned aisle seemed to go on forever.
I panicked and called out for Zoe. I needed something to help me prepare for whatever it was I’d face at the other end. I did not get a reply.
I hit the other side at full, hobble speed. I didn’t really have a plan, other than not being too late to help Zoe. I flashed my gun in every direction I could cover as quick as I could. It was a stupid move, really. I mean, if the Fat Man was there and waiting, I’d be dead.
He wasn’t. Neither was Zoe.
No bodies, no people, no guns. Just splatters of blood and trails heading off in different directions.
Then I saw him. He was in the old newsagents, opposite the Foodland. He was staggering, badly.
The newsagents had been converted into some sort of triage space. There were medical beds and bits of equipment everywhere. He was more than halfway to the back, which opened to the other side of the shopping centre, not far from an exit.
I asked my body for one more run. It obeyed.
I was well into the front of the triage area when he slipped out the other side. I covered the ground in what felt like no time. I was ready to aim and shoot as I hit the corner, hoping to get a shot in before he reached the rear entrance to the centre.
That’s when I felt the side of my face crush in pain. I was on the deck before I knew what had happened. That in itself caused another wave of agony to surge through my body.
There was a bit of a haze at that point as I tried to get my senses back. I knew enough to know I’d been butted with the handle on his rifle. He’d finally laid that corner trap. I also knew there was a fresh burst of gunfire happening as I lay there.
Then my gun - I didn’t have it.
I went to scout for it, but my vision was blurry through one eye and not possible through the other.
I heard the sound of a bullet entering flesh - the Fat Man had taken another hit. A jet of blood shot by me. As it did, I saw my gun again. Close by.
The shots continued, before I heard Zoe scream again.
I didn’t want his attention on me until I at least had my gun. I reached for it as subtly as I could. I wrapped my arm around the handle as precisely as I could. But, I know I made a noise.
I couldn’t even see him, but I sensed with everything I was that his attention had turned from Zoe to me. Then I heard Zoe scream - no roar - and blast off a volley of fire until her weapon went dry.
The Fat Man returned the favour.
It was enough for me to grab the weapon, turn on my side, aim and fire.
I knew where he was. I just felt it.
My aim was on the money. He was exactly where I wanted him to be. Even through my hazy vision, I could see he’d taken a fresh hit in the chest. I didn’t really have time to take in the full detail, just that Zoe had tagged him, and that all I had to do was pull the trigger to do the same.
That’s exactly what I did.
Two shots - that’s all I had left.
One went through his cheek, the other just above his eye.
He hovered there for a second or two before falling face first onto the tiles, just in front of me.
Dead. Completely, stone cold dead.
“Zoe? Zoe?”
That’s when the pain really started to kick in for me.
“Zoe?”
I was starting to lose the battle for consciousness.
“I’m here.” That was the last thing I remember hearing before I blacked out. “I’m here.”
*
March 21, 2015
So, the good news is, I’m alive.
I’m pretty pleased about that, to be honest.
I crack me up!
I also have a terrible feeling I’m not as funny as I think I am right now and that it’s actually all the painkillers they’ve filled me up with that may mean I’m not at my comedy genius best, yet think I am.
I am at the oval.
I’m home.
The old makeshift medical set-up we used to have, pfft, forget that. This room looks nearly like a legitimate medical facility. Say what you want about the Fat Man, but he knew how to get things done.
Oh, and there’s a doctor here. Like, an actual one. You know, who had done surgeries before the rock hit. Dr Patel, her name is, she’s really nice. And I’m not just saying that because of the painkillers.
She’s from the Mitcham hub. Yeah, Mitcham hub. First person I’ve ever met from there and she saved my life. Well, I’m not sure if my injuries were life-threatening with her on board, but they sure would’ve been if I had copped Jonesy behind the scalpel. So, I’m calling it a save.
This place is crazy busy right now. Dr Patel has been working all night. There’s another doctor helping too, a GP, don’t know his name. There’s also a couple of nurses taking shifts around the clock. Angie is helping them, and she’s not the only one.
They’ve set up the old banquet room next door as a makeshift ward. There’s 27 people in there, apparently. Gunshot wounds, mostly. We lost a couple last night, they said. That’ll just add to a total they’re still trying to finalise, but it’s not pretty.
I’m trying to balance my own feelings of killing - well, half killing - the Fat Man and surviving long enough to tell the tale, plus regaining my home, with all the additional loss that has happened in the wake of those events. That’s really hard to process. Plus, you know, painkillers.
I shouldn’t think on all that stuff too much now. Just my recovery, I guess. There will be time to do all that. And it has to be done. The thing is, it’s hard not to think about it all. You can’t not. You can’t just think about recovery. That’s the dumbest idea ever.
At least I have my scintillating sense of humour; that’s keeping my mind off things. I’ll just concentrate on that for my recovery. Bonus points if I annoy people along the way.
...I already have bonus points.
I’ve got Zoe in the bed on one side of me for company and Alyce, who pretty much hasn’t left my bedside since the operation, on the other. It’s a pretty good way to bounce back.
Except for the fact they keep laughing at me because I’m laughing at everything.
It’s the painkillers, but I’m probably due a few good laughs, I guess.
Three bullets and 42 pieces of shrapnel, by the way. That’s what additional pieces I had inside me when they operated. Well, that’s what they managed to pull out.
There’s so much more to say, but I’m not really in a position to do it yet. And all this world-class comedy has made me tired.
*
&nb
sp; March 22, 2015
Feeling a little more back to normal today. Not quite as funny, though. Pity, I kind of enjoyed that.
Dr Patel, well, Anika, reckons I was pretty lucky. One bullet missed my heart by about two centimetres. So, there’s that. Not as lucky as Zoe, though. One bullet literally grazed by her jugular. Like, one millimetre between life and death. Wow.
Anyway, Anika reckons I’m relatively pretty good. She says if I feel up to it in a couple of days, I can try to see if I can handle standing under my own steam. I could maybe look at getting mobile within a week or so.
She’s been awesome; I think she went at it for nearly 30 hours straight. She had herself a few hours’ sleep and was straight up and visiting everyone again. She’s saved lives.
Outside the doctors, nurses and my roommates, people have steered a bit clear. I mean, I know there’s just so much going on out there at the moment. The oval is changing again. It’s under new management, after all. And that’s all great, but the thing is, I don’t think those close to me are just too busy to see me. I think they’re avoiding me because they know things I want to know the answers to. I know they’re giving me time to recover, but I also know they’re keeping things from me I need to know. Did everyone survive? Well, apart from Nate.
Nate, what an awesome guy. I’ll miss him so much. Fishing legend in his bad captain’s hat. Hang on.
...man, so emotional. It’s the painkillers, I swear.
Perhaps best not to process things too much right now. Not in a good space for that. Maybe the doctors were right.
Anyway, there’s other things. I just know it. No one is telling me. Even Alyce. I try to work on Alyce but she is definitely hiding something from me.
This is hard.
*
March 23, 2015
So, I got out of bed today. I’m not sure anyone else in the room was overly approving of the move, but they sure weren’t stopping me. To be fair, I don’t think I had an aura of please stop me from doing this going on. I was doing it regardless. Alyce was there for me, though. She had the only shoulder I needed.
Standing was a world of hurt. The first step, doubly so. After that, I got a little rhythm to it, knowing where to lean my weight on my feet and on Alyce to find the path of least agony. Anyway, I could cope, so it was fine.
We passed through the door and into the bigger ward.
The first thing I saw were the beds of the injured from a battle I only saw a fraction of. That was confronting. Faces I didn’t know… all of them.
They all looked at me. I looked back. Acknowledging each of them while I searched for a familiar face.
The way they looked at me, I’ll never forget. Like, I was someone. An important someone. That was a bit disconcerting.
I was walking past, feeling a little guilty that somehow my thing with the Fat Man had contributed to the hurt of all these people I didn’t know while they were looking at me like I was, well, something. I wasn’t.
I didn’t know what to say or how to act in the circumstances. I just returned eye contact to those I saw giving it and leaned into Alyce for protection from the whole thing when the moment seemed right.
At the end of the corridor, a couple of nurses saw me coming, which triggered another kind of hubbub. I don’t think they knew what to do, or what not to do. When I reached them, they reduced it all to asking me if I was OK, then letting me past.
I could hear them reporting in about my movements on a two-way as I negotiated the first of the steps down the terraces leading to the oval surface.
I just laughed. All I knew is I had Alyce in my arms (perhaps in a more supportive role than I would’ve liked) and I was home.
I stopped when I reached the walkway about halfway down to ground level. I breathed in the air and sucked it all in. All of it. That moment. The last few weeks. The last few months. Rock night. Everyone I’d met. Everyone I’d lost. The ones I didn’t know about yet. All of it.
Home.
I tried to fight it, but the tears just came.
Alyce wrapped herself around me. It was her way of protecting me, I know. But it seemed to usher a bigger torrent. Not that what I was feeling was pain, anyway. No, it wasn’t pain, it was… everything.
Anika called out my name as she rushed down the stairs.
I went to turn, but she’d reached us by the time I’d even mentally prepared to make that a physical possibility.
“Are you OK?” she said, as she fussed over me for a minute.
I nodded and said “I’m fine.”
“OK, well, you know where to find me,” she said as she took a step back. She went to walk away but stopped to face me once more. “Thank you.”
I’d gotten myself into a position where I could see her by that point. I smiled, not really knowing why, then watched her walk back up the stairs.
I didn’t know how to take it, really. I just shrugged it off and returned my thoughts to the task at hand - getting my feet on the surface of the oval.
Alyce must’ve sensed all that. She said “You ready?”, before shuffling me around in the right direction again and helping me down the final flight of stairs.
We soon had our feet planted on the turf. Well, when I say turf, I mean what was once turf… and what hopefully will be once again.
That issued forth another bout of tears.
I didn’t really know what I wanted to do at that point. I just found myself headed for the centre of the oval, Alyce supporting me every step of the way. When we reached it, I just looked up in the stands that seemed to tower over me from that angle, even with the missing light tower and the roof ripped away from a section of the eastern stand. This place. Home.
Then I heard my name being called. It was Shane.
I looked up to see him running at me from down the terraces on the member’s side. Steph was chasing a few steps in his wake. He had a patch over his eye and his arm in a sling, but I could see his smile from 80m away. I could hear it.
He yelled my name again… and again. Then yelled a “Jack fucking Baldwin” to mix it up a bit. I played along, holding my arms out in modest acknowledgement. Never seen the man run as fast as he did in that moment.
I started to get rather nervous as he got closer. He’s a pretty solid unit at the best of times, doubly so after after a few weeks of hard labour. And he had momentum. And I was one badly angled gust of wind away from falling apart as it was.
Thankfully, he skidded to a stop just short of me. We looked at each other for the first time since the battle for the city, then we reached in to hug. He was, thankfully, as gentle as he could be. Which was complete agony. He apologised, stepped back and admired me again. By that time, Steph had joined us.
“Good to see you, Jack,” he said.
“You too,” I agreed.
It was a lot to process. I started with the big one. “I thought you were dead.”
“Me too. Thought I was done for when they started firing. Many were, but they would’ve wiped us out if you guys weren’t there to fight back.”
He put his hand in Steph’s. “You guys did it. I owe you my life.”
I didn’t really know how to take that information. There were stories I didn’t know and it all seemed so overwhelming. Still, in this world, there is no bigger thing you can say to a person. I didn’t know if I was worthy of the statement. Just a cog in a machine that had worked, somehow, in the right moments to leave us all here. It was big, but it wasn’t all on me.
“We all did it,” I said. “Steph, Alyce, Jonesy, Ye-jun…”
A look came over their faces when I said Ye-jun’s name. I was filled with a sense of dread. No, it was more than that. I knew. Something had happened to Ye-jun. I mean, I knew what had happened at Norwood but... I watched their expressions as they wrestled with what to say next. I turned to Alyce. Her eyes were moist and she wouldn’t return my gaze. I turned my attention back to Shane and Steph. Looking at them in turn, waiting for one of them to tell me what I now a
lready knew.
Shane put his arm on my shoulder, gentle but firm. “Ye-jun... didn’t make it.”
The comment sat in the air for the longest time. The floor dropped out beneath me. Ye-jun. I had no words.
“They couldn’t stop the bleeding. Worked on him for ages, but…”
Shane’s explanation went unfinished as well. I was just left to process, Alyce’s light touch letting me know I wasn’t in it alone.
Ye-jun. We had gone everywhere together since we’d met in the early days of the oval. Any crazy idea I’d had, he was in. Needed back-up, he was in. Need bravery, he was in. He was my brother in adventure. He was with me as we chased the Fat Man down the Parade. My idea, my chase, my revenge, really. And now he had paid the ultimate price. As had Nate.
Meanwhile, I had everyone around here looking at me like I was some sort of hero. I just put all those thoughts together and, well, I lost it. Tears flowed.
Shane and Steph moved in to offer their support. After a minute they told me they’d give me my space to take it all in. They added that the rest of the New Adelaide crew had made it. And that there were hundreds of people whose lives had changed for the better because the Fat Man was dead.
I nodded to let them know I appreciated their words, but my war of guilt was in a different headspace. I knew it was something I’d have to come to terms with in my own way and time.
As Shane and Steph returned to the members area, I was left with Alyce’s embrace. I stayed cocooned in it until the tears stopped flowing. Then another couple of minutes for good measure. When I finally looked up, her face was in front of mine. We kissed for a moment before I dared to look around again.
It was just her and me, an oval-shaped patch of dirt and the grandstands leaning over us. They weren’t just there, those grandstands, innately sitting there, they were watching over everything that played out.
This place that had been a colosseum to so many sporting triumphs and tragedies. Those stands packed with people watching on like their own lives were on the line.
Now it was home to real stories. Real triumph and real tragedy. Life stories.