Beyond the blockade, a tank was parked further back alongside two more trucks, and on their side of the fence, Jim spotted a man in a HAZMAT suit. He heaved a loaded wheelbarrow towards a pile of bodies in a clearing away from the road.
“They’re burning them,” Jim said.
An uneasy feeling overcame him. There was a chance he might not get through. That would delay him getting to the girls much longer. Jim wouldn’t accept that.
Two soldiers stepped away from the gate and came to the window of the car. “What’s going on?” Jim asked.
“You’ll have to turn around, sir,” one of the soldiers said, his youthful face peering out from beneath a green helmet.
“Turn around? Are you kidding? I’ve driven all the way up here. I’m not driving all the way back.”
“The area is quarantined. You can’t get past.”
“Why can’t you just open the gate and let me drive through?” The soldier looked back at his colleague, and Jim added, “My daughters are in Hamilton. I received a call this afternoon that their mother was… had abandoned them and they needed me. You understand I am trying to get there as quickly as possible?”
“We understand, sir. But we are under orders not to let anyone past this point. The area beyond this is quarantined for a mile.”
“A mile? We’re not sick. Why can’t you just let us through?”
“Let’s just turn around,” Dan said.
“No, I won’t fucking turn around and go all the way back to the Bass Highway. My daughters are on the other side of this mountain and I need to get to them.” He turned to the soldier. “Now.”
The soldier stepped away from the car and dropped into a firing position. “Sir, turn the vehicle around immediately. I won’t ask again.”
Jim stared at the kid for a long moment. Would he really shoot him if he took off and rammed the gate and tried to drive through? He might, Jim thought. He would do anything to action his orders, and he might even say Jim looked a little red around the eyes and pasty in the face and the kid thought Jim Bennets was really sick.
With a clenched jaw and his eyes on the soldier, Jim put the gearstick into reverse and backed the car away from the gate. He would have to find another way.
“Are we going all the way back?” Dan asked.
“Not if I can help it.”
As Jim guided the car back along the road, he wondered why they had quarantined the area. It was a fairly remote place, used mostly as a thoroughfare for those getting to the Great Lake or to the other side of the Central Highlands. If the military… and then it came to him. It was the Blackwood Creek military facility. Jim reckoned it must have been a mile or so from the gate. They had secured the road to stop the infected getting to the military base. Which meant something big was going on there. Something worth protecting.
“These woods are full of dirt roads,” Jim said. “First one we see, we’re taking it. No way I’m driving all the way back to near Launceston and down to Bothwell. That’ll add another two hours to the trip. If they’ve only quarantined it for a mile, we should be able to get past and back onto the clear road again.”
It didn’t take long before a narrow entrance into the scrub appeared. Jim checked the rear mirrors and found them clear of cars, then he ran off the bitumen, onto the gravel, and disappeared into the willowy scrub, branches scraping over the roof. The car vibrated along the bumpy track, rocks popping under the tires, dust swirling in a plume behind them. Tasmania was full of such tracks, much of the state having been built on them in its early years of formation. Many Tasmanians in pursuit of a national park or fishing location had driven on one. It wasn’t long before they found a right turn. Jim took it a little fast, the car drifting across the loose stones.
They went down a long stretch that angled slightly back towards the main road, picking up speed as the trees cramming the roadside rushed past, the wind howling through the small gap in the window. On their right, Jim glimpsed the main road. The scrub flattened and, ahead, Jim saw a clearing open out. As they approached, he saw several military vehicles parked behind tall trees.
“We’ve got a soldier coming our way,” Dan said.
They were now adjacent to the roadblock. Jim surveyed the scrub, looking for movement. Beyond, he saw the fences and trucks and the turret where the soldier stood with a machine gun. Jim spotted a soldier running across the clearing with a small weapon in hand. He considered flooring the accelerator, but the car was already vibrating heavily, and he worried any more speed would jeopardize his control.
The soldier reached the edge of the clearing. He shouted something Jim couldn’t understand and put up the flat of his hand, indicating they should stop. But Jim wasn’t stopping. As they passed equal with the soldier, the man stopped and took aim. A short burst of gunfire sounded. Bullets clunked into the flank of the car. Both Dan and Jim flinched, hunkering down. Jim pressed the accelerator and tightened his hands around the wheel. Loose stones spewed out from beneath the tires and the car flew on, avoiding any more gunfire.
The road declined, and Jim applied pressure to the brakes, careful not to cause a slide. As they reached the bottom, he glanced up into the rear-view mirror and through the dusty clouds, where he saw the heavy bulk of an army vehicle chasing.
“Shit.”
Dan looked around. “We can outrun it.”
“I’m going to try.”
The road began to climb. Now was their chance. The other vehicle was heavier and would not climb the small rise as well as the Territory. Up they went at speed, rushing over the loose surface, but as the road flattened out again, Jim saw a sharp corner materialize with sturdy gum trees hugging the edge of the road.
“Slow down,” Dan said.
Jim touched the brakes, afraid if he applied too much pressure, the car would launch into a skid and they’d end up crashing. The speedometer dropped marginally, but Jim knew it wasn’t going to be enough.
“Slow down,” Dan repeated. “You’re gonna have to use the anchors more.”
Jim did. The wheels locked up and the car slid over the loose rocky surface, moving from side to side. Jim relaxed off the brakes and tugged on the wheel, trying to pull it away from the edge. He knew instantly this was a mistake. He lost control and the dense trunks of several gums awaited their approach.
“We’re gonna hit,” Dan said, bracing himself on the dashboard.
There was the moment where Jim was sure they were going to crash into a gum tree. He glanced at Dan, who was looking at him, his mouth an “o.” Jim braced for contact as he let the car ride out the skid. The wheels caught, slowing the vehicle enough for him to turn the wheel as they slid into the corner. The car fishtailed briefly, then the tires caught, but it was too late, and the back end struck the last tree with a thwack. It slipped past and they ran into the scrub momentarily until Jim veered back onto the road.
“Jesus,” Jim said, checking the side mirror. The rear quarter panel looked as though it had folded in on itself. A grating noise sounded. “I think the wheel housing is damaged.”
“Don’t stop now.” Dan’s face had gone a shade paler, and he continued to look behind.
Jim accelerated. “I reckon we’ve increased the gap.”
“I hope you’re right.”
The road curled around to the left, then back to the right, until they came to a crossroad intersection. “We far enough away from the roadblock?” Jim asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Jim kept going straight through without slowing.
Dan turned in his seat again. “But I do think we’ve left them behind.”
“Next right,” Jim said.
It was three and half minutes before the meandering road offered a right turn. Jim slowed down this time and took the car sensibly around the corner.
“Anything?” he asked Dan, who had spent most of the time turned around. Dan shook his head and slid back down into the seat.
Jim wondered whether the army would p
ursue them. They knew where they were headed, so if they stuck with the trail, they might eventually catch them. And they were able to use the main highway they had blocked off, giving them a big advantage.
Jim slowed as they reached the end of the dirt road. “You think they followed on the highway?”
Dan shrugged.
There was no sign of the military at the intersection with the main road. Jim turned left onto the highway, wishing he had the nerve to stop and check the car, but he couldn’t risk it yet. The whirring sound was constant, and it didn’t seem to have affected performance—yet—but he would need to keep an ear out and an eye on it.
He checked his phone reception as he accelerated past fifty, but the signal was still missing. The feeling in his gut was mixed with hope and terror. He’d know soon enough. For now, he had to focus on getting them there. They still had ninety minutes of travel.
Jim realized his attitude towards things had changed. The cynical, negative man who had been with him for so long seemed to keep quieter now. Despite all that had happened, he was still alive. He’d survived. His ex-wife would have been surprised.
Shortly after, they passed another vehicle going in the opposite direction. Jim suspected they’d soon come upon a blockade from the other side. He didn’t know what was going on at the Blackwood Creek military facility, but it must have been damn important.
12
January 11, 2014
4:42 pm
Outside Queenstown, Tasmania
The infected weren’t moving. That was the problem. If they just shuffled away from the minibus doors for a few minutes, the group might have a chance. That was all they needed. A chance. Wiping sweat from her brow, Tammy Carter glanced behind her at the line of people pressed up against the building. They were mostly middle-aged, a mix of women and men, some quiet, happy to follow along, others opinionated and demanding. Not dissimilar to her constituents. You don’t have constituents anymore, Tammy reminded herself.
She had accumulated the group at various locations in Queenstown. She had a way of doing that. As a state parliamentary minister for Tasmania, people had always flocked to her. They had long relied on her ability to take control of a situation and find the most practical and well-considered solution. Though, not everyone always agreed. But when they come to you, they wanted things, she knew. Now, they wanted safety, and Tammy hadn’t yet given them that.
“Just make a run for it,” said Shane, a solid man with a hard, flat face and inverted teeth. He was the most vocal of the lot and had a bag full of criticisms for every move she made. She could see, based on her vast experience with people, that he was trouble. Lots of protesting and no solutions. “We can’t sit around here all day.”
“It’s too risky right now,” Tammy said. “We’re safe here. Let’s be patient. We’ll get our chance.” Shane gave a little sneer and turned away.
An older lady in a long floral dress, with half the skin of her face peeled away, banged on the window of the vehicle, smearing muck over the glass. It was a long way from her parliamentary office in Hobart; a long way from the world they had all known. The whirlwind that had developed in recent weeks still left her mind spinning in the brief moments of calm. Other infected people wandered around the outside of the vehicle, attracted by something inside. Tammy hoped it would soon be them.
It simply wasn’t worth risking the group of eleven people yet. The infected weren’t bothering them. Eventually, they’d move away. Tammy retreated along the brick wall to the end of the line, where another man, named Darren, sat crouched. He had spiky grey hair, a round face and red cheeks. He seemed to know a bit about what was going on. More than her, at this stage. She smiled at him. He rubbed his goatee and made a crooked attempt to respond with the same.
“I heard you talking to one of the ladies about a refuge before.”
Darren said, “Port Arthur?” Tammy nodded. “I’ve heard about it a couple of times. There and Mole Creek seem to be the two places people are heading right now. Apparently, they’ve cordoned off the area with fences and gates. Rumour has it they’ve got electricity and food and water and can survive for months.”
“Is that so? How did you learn about it?”
“One of the blokes I ran into last night. He reckons the army and the government have organised it.” He shrugged and chuckled. “You probably know more than me.”
“No.” Tammy felt a wash of guilt. She should know more, but her contacts had either abandoned her or disappeared. “Not at this point, Darren. Are they accepting people?”
“Last time I heard.”
“Well, its sounds like the best place to go for now. We should avoid any of the major cities—Hobart, Devonport, Launceston. I know there’s a military base past Richmond and the army has constructed a place at Mole Creek, but Mole Creek is closer to Devonport, and I don’t want to head north. As far as I know, that’s where people first started getting sick.”
“Makes sense to me.”
North was also back to her husband. Only three months ago they had been happily married. Or so she had thought. Admittedly, her work life balance was a problem, but he should have communicated that to her earlier.
Darren spoke.
“Sorry,” Tammy said, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Just wondered how it looks up front.” He tipped his chin. “We got a chance to move yet?”
“Soon, I hope. I just want to be certain it’s safe and nobody is going to get hurt.”
“The odds on that are probably always going to be against us.”
Tammy raised her eyebrows. “I thought you were one of the more optimistic people we had in the group.”
Darren raised his hands, palms facing Tammy. “No, no, I am. You’re right. Sorry, I must be getting influenced.” He glanced ahead at Shane and his crew of two, a look of distrust on his face. “There are some real cynics amongst us.”
“I know. But I won’t resign trying to change their minds.”
Shaking his head, he gave a small laugh. “Why do you do it?”
“I’m a people person at heart. I was elected to represent them. Does that conclude when the world ends? Certainly not. So, I place myself in a position where I can help them be organised and methodical in what they do.”
“It’s a good thing, you know.”
“If I’m honest, I don’t know what else to do. Helping people, trying to find a way forward is better than doing nothing.”
There was a call from the further along the line. Tammy didn’t hear the first time, but the second, someone said, “It’s clearing up.”
“Off you go,” Darren said.
“Excuse me.” Tammy hurried back, past Shane, who had positioned himself second from the front.
As she passed, he spoke. “If you don’t go now, we’ll go on our own.”
Part of her wished he would, and they’d let luck decide what happened. But if he reached the minibus and the rest missed out, she’d never forgive herself. She edged her way to the front, stopped at the corner of the building, and peered out. There was space to make a run for it. She estimated between four and five meters. Those infected that had been hanging around the doors had disappeared around the other side, and the rest were now closer to the rear of the bus. This was it. Time to stand up and be counted.
“We have to go now,” Shane continued. “You’d be a bloody fool not to try.”
“Yes,” Tammy said, turning away from Shane so not fuel his sense of importance. She gathered at the mid-point of the line and waved her hands to catch their attention. They were all focused on her, even Shane, though that was probably only because she had agreed with him. “We’re going to make a run for the minibus.”
Some nodded, others folded their brows with concern.
“I know it’s risky but being stuck out here is riskier.” They watched her, faces full of hope, the same hope she had recently seen on the faces of people she met as a politician. Perhap
s that was what had driven her to run for government.
“I need someone to volunteer to go first,” Tammy said.
“Why not you?” With his chest puffed out, one of Shane’s friends—sporting dirty yellow teeth and a mangy moustache—offered. Tammy couldn’t recall his name.
“I’ll go last,” she said. “To make sure everyone gets on the bus safely.” The man twisted his mouth. “Anybody?” Tammy asked.
Darren raised his hand. “I’ll do it.”
Tammy supressed a smile. “Thank you. The door is slightly ajar so shouldn’t be a problem to open—”
“Unless there’s something jammed in it,” Shane said.
“I’ll give a signal if it doesn’t come open,” Darren countered.
“Run as quickly as you can. Does everyone understand that?” In her early parliamentary days, Tammy had undertaken a course on communication. She wanted to know all the tricks for getting her message across so that people would understand her. “For whatever reason, if the minibus door doesn’t open, we’ll need to double back this way and run down the alley.” She pointed behind them, where there was a long, clear laneway with slabs of disjointed, pale concrete for the road and dull, red-brick walls on either side.
“Are we clear on that?” She found their gazes and made sure each nodded their head. “If Darren reaches the minibus door and finds it won’t open, he gives a hand signal,” Tammy waved her hand. “We backtrack to this point and run down that alleyway.” She scanned them a final time. “Or, if the door opens, we enter minibus in an orderly fashion.”
There was consensus via nodding heads and the odd murmured yes. Tammy found Darren’s eye, and they walked to the corner of the brick building. It was still clear.
“We’ve got to go,” Darren said. Sweat gathered at the base of his grey spiky hair, near the corners of his forehead.
Tammy guided an older woman and man in behind Darren and made her way down the line. Shane and his two mates were next, though she didn’t offer any encouragement to them. No surprises they were clambering to be near the front of the queue. Others wore anxious expressions. Tammy laid a hand on the shoulder of a middle-aged lady. Then she smiled at an obese man and said, “Be quick.” He gave a sturdy nod and began to cough and splutter.
Invasion of the Dead (Book 5): Resolve Page 8