Recalling Destiny

by Michael Blinkhoff

  When he’s halfway across the living room, the door flings open suddenly in a burst of broken wooden shards, smashed open at the hands of a battering ram.

  Truck doesn’t pause when he sees the battering ram, nor does he baulk when he notices several men appearing behind the now smashed door, fully armed and dressed in army fatigues. Truck charges forward, head first and full steam ahead.

  At five men, dressed in army combat fatigues, poised at the door’s entrance.

  With his arms raised high above his shoulders and a wild scream now bellowing from his lungs, Truck charges forward at the men who are entering the room, ready to defend his family with his life.

  Ready to give them enough time to get away and sacrificing himself in the process.

  It was a mighty roar.

  - -

  Ma'am

  “Samuel, he’s back.”

  “Lucinda, you know the rules, we meet at midday and …”

  “Smith, he’s back.”

  “What?”

  “I said Smith, he’s back.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No shit … front cover of the paper the other day for a robbery.”

  “Did you check the thread?”

  “Of course, he wasn’t on it.”

  “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Do it. Do it now.”

  They were Samuel’s last words to her as she left his office. She had no time to think, no time to plan an alternative. Lucinda could only do as he asked and carry out the plan he’d laid out years in advance.

  Thankfully, she’d already prepared for the eventuality and so executed his order and her plan swiftly. As she walked to the thread room to carry out the order she stole a look over to Station Eight, wondering if it was the last time she would see her. Then she noticed the newspaper sitting on the desk and a steeliness overtook her, she knew what she needed to be done, now was her chance.

  Redemption.

  She’d been on the run from Destiny for three days now after making her escape quickly during the evacuation. She’d planned this for a very long time and was surprised to find herself enjoying the thrill of it all, enjoying the fresh air and freedom.

  Perhaps she’d been underground for too long.

  She sat atop the crest of a rocky mountain on her first morning, after spending the night under the stars and relished the warmth of the morning sun on her skin. The feeling of freedom filled her lungs as she breathed in fresh mountain air, and as she exhaled peacefully, her troubles seemed miniscule in the moment.

  She felt free, for the first time in over thirty years. Free of the facility, free of her enslavement. For a moment she considered wandering off, deep into the bush and living a life of solitude, away from the world and its troubles.

  But then she remembered who she was and what was at stake.

  She’d stashed a quad bike, months earlier, two hours trek from the Destiny installation. She used it to get her out of the treacherous mountain terrain quickly, away from the installation. She knew Destiny wouldn’t be able to send anyone after her, she would have a head start.

  Not only were they short on available units, but their system had been disabled thanks to her efforts. She ensured that an electrical spike would short out the installation, causing a blow out and incapacitating the facility. It could be weeks before their surveillance capabilities were restored.

  She took advantage of the head start.

  The first morning she made some small changes to her appearance with a kit she’d stored on the bike, shortening her hair and adding a grey tinge to it.

  She liberally applied strong self-tanning product to her face, neck and arms to darken her complexion. Given her normally pale skin it made for a remarkable transformation.

  Even though she’d disabled the surveillance capabilities of Destiny she took no chances, a disguise would ensure she moved more freely.

  After making the changes she ditched the quad bike and trekked on foot another few hours to the outskirts of a town. Here she had another vehicle stashed, a small campervan, ready and waiting to take her further on.

  The van, aside from containing food and accommodation necessities, also contained more specific supplies for long term survival in case she got stuck.

  She made the long drive towards Melbourne, taking as many back roads as possible. Twice she encountered other people along the road, clearly looking for some sort of assistance, but she chose to continue without stopping. Who knows if one of them was going to rob her of her van and supplies.

  She first heard reports over the radio about the fallout, about how millions of people had simply fallen to their deaths. She felt a deep regret as she listened to it, for ultimately she was responsible for it happening, her conscience laden with those millions of lives.

  She listened to the reports, aghast at the post-apocalyptic scene that she had a hand in creating.

  As she neared the city it became increasingly harder to navigate, as she would come across many accidents blocking the road or buildings that had collapsed due to fire. The resulting debris covered roads and highways making travel difficult.

  Eventually she had to give up the van, as it became more of a hindrance navigating through the carnage on the roads. She took her chance once she saw it, recovering a motorbike and utilising it to navigate through the vehicular holocaust the last few hours into Melbourne City.

  When she got there, she was horrified to see the damage wreaked upon the city, it was just like a scene out of movie. Smouldering remains of cars, bodies, trucks and buses lay everywhere. Buildings too had suffered, several districts burnt to the ground, buildings having collapsed on top of others. People were a scarcity and tended to disappear at the sight of her bike.

  It looked like the aftermath of a nuclear attack.

  As Lucinda approached the city she was marvelling so much she failed to notice a vehicle appearing off to her left, coming toward her at high speed. Suddenly it was too late, and she found herself having to make an emergency brake to avoid a collision with an oncoming army Bushmaster.

  She braked hard but felt her the rear wheel slide out from underneath, making her powerless to stop its momentum. She had no choice, the only other way to slow the bike was to drop it to the ground, otherwise she would have to risk collision with the large truck.

  She did this with precision and thankfully missed the Bushmaster as it rolled through the crossroad in front of her. But she kept sliding along the road until eventually slamming into another vehicle, a stationary smouldering ruin.

  As the Bushmaster passed. the occupants must have noticed her and slammed on their brakes, coming to a stop a few metres from where she lay trapped under the bike. Several soldiers quickly exited and came to her aide, lifting the bike off her.

  “Are you ok Ma’am?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Can’t avoid it anywhere can I?”

  “I’m sorry?” one of them asked.

  “Never mind, thanks for your help,” she responded as she got back to her feet.

  “Ma’am, are you aware of the safe zones that have been setup?” A soldier, who appeared to be in charge asked her. “You are out of the safe zone.”

  “Son, I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Oh ... I’ve been out bush, what’s all this bloody mess, looks like the apocalypse,” she said, trying to sound as simple and ignorant as she could. Without knowing exactly what’d taken place the past few days she thought it best to play dumb.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Ma’am, you need to come with us right away, we’re heading for the safe zone. We can take you there.” He made to grab her arm. “They have supplies and …”

  “
Excuse me!” she recoiled instinctively away from his grip. “You will do no such thing young man!”

  “Ma’am it’s not safe out here, you must come with us.”

  “Son, you better tell me what happened here, otherwise I ain’t going nowhere with you.”

  “Well, I’m not sure actually,” he turned to look at his comrades for assistance, but found none. “We’re not really sure what happened. People just started dying suddenly.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I mean like, literally people just dropped dead, we don’t know why but a lot of people are dead and now the city has now become a dangerous place.”

  “How can I trust you, just because you look like soldiers?”

  “Ma’am, we represent the government. They’ve setup a few safe zones for people to go to for food, shelter and also to ...”

  “To what?”

  “To protect them.”

  “Protect them from what?” She gulped as she thought about what might be out there.

  “There are gangs out here now.”

  “Gangs?” She exhaled, relieved, expecting another terror to be on the loose.

  “Since this happened the city’s been in chaos, people have been acting all kinds of crazy. Looting and attacking others, some of them have formed gangs which now roam outside of the safe zones. They don’t care anymore, they’ll rape and kill on a whim. That’s why you have to come with us, for your safety.”

  “Well I’ll be fine on my own thank you. Don’t think anyone wants to rape this.”

  “Ma’am, it’s not safe. Please. The gangs, they are heavily armed and they are …”

  “I don’t care what they’re doing, I thank you for the information but I will go on alone. I can look after myself.”

  The man turned and discussed it quickly with his comrades and together they made a decision. The soldiers all turned back to the Bushmaster, except for the one who’d been talking with her.

  “Ma’am. We can’t stop you from doing as you wish, so you’re free to go. But please stay away from the CBD, that’s where most of them are.”

  “That’s where I’m headed.”

  “I advise you to avoid it, but if you must then be careful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh and Ma’am?”

  “Yes.”

  “There are two safe zones in the city, should you need them. One at St Kilda and the other at Laverton. If you get into any trouble, head there, you’ll be safe.”

  She thanked them and watched as they got back into their vehicle and left. After they disappeared she went back and deliberated over the motorbike as it rested on the pavement.

  She cursed herself as she saw the soldiers drive away, wishing she asked them for help to at least upright the motorbike properly, it was heavy.

  She looked about the landscape, scanning for another vehicle that might be of use to her. But finding none, returned to the bike and began to lift it herself.

  Surprisingly it moved under her meek first attempt and so she decided she could probably lift it herself. With less effort than she thought, she up-righted the bike onto its wheels. Quickly she looked the bike over and pressed the ignition, letting out a smile as it flared back to life.

  As she sat upon the bike, fixing her helmet and about to take off, she thought she noticed something in her rear vision before a sudden thud to her bike helmet shocked the thought from her mind. The blow knocked her from the bike and she fell to the ground in a heap.

  Dazed, she turned to try and get a glimpse of who her assailant was, but then another blow rained down upon her, sending her head into a dark spin. Before she had time to recover she felt someone jump on top of her, she writhed and turned but struggled to get free of them. The helmet still covered her face and blocked her field of view, making escape even more difficult.

  Within moments she felt her arms and legs come together, her assailant quickly binding them with a set of handcuffs. Within an instant she’d become powerless, she tried to wriggle free of the constraints but found her efforts futile.

  She’d been captured.

  “What the hell?” she screamed out, trying in vain to see who her assailant was.

  She heard someone talking in the background but under the helmet struggled to hear what was being said. Trying hard to concentrate she was sure her captor was talking to someone over a phone as she could only hear the one voice.

  She screamed out again, trying to at least get a reaction but without result. She was sure she could hear her captor sniggering at her, no doubt because her sounds would have been muffled through the helmet.

  As she lay there helpless, she silently cursed herself for her stupidity, only moments before a troop of soldiers had warned her about the dangers of being out on the road alone and now she was lying face down with her arms and legs bound behind her.

  After a few minutes wallowing in her own self-pity, she started to hear the faint din of motors and lots of them. As the sound grew louder she gulped, it sounded like a group of motorcycles approaching, which could only mean one thing. She’d been captured by some gang member and now the rest of them were coming to collect her.

  “Hey!” came the shout from her captor. “Over here!” She overheard him screaming in amongst the din of the motors.

  Soon enough the roar of several engines could be heard approaching from nearby, she found herself grateful for having the helmet on for once, as it blocked out the noise of the engines roaring collectively together.

  “Johnny.” A man called out once the engines had been cut.

  “Aye boss!”

  “Well who have we got here? You said you caught a girl, right?”

  “Sure did,” the man yelped. “It’s a girl alright.”

  Lucinda sighed with relief, as she realised the gang must have been on the lookout for women to rape and not on the lookout for her. Despite the threat of further violence, being captured by the government or Destiny was a fate much worse for her.

  “Well, let’s have a look at her then.”

  Moments later she felt herself being flipped over and a second after her helmet was removed from her head. She got to see who her assailant was, a scrawny little mess of a man with a pencil neck. Another man stood next to him, leaning in, and she guessed he was the one in charge.

  The man knelt and looked at her for only the briefest of moment before turning to the scrawny man and backhanding him hard across the face. “She’s a bloody geriatric you twat!”

  The man clutched at his face and reeled backwards at the slap. “You said you wanted a woman, that’s a woman, isn’t it?”

  “I wanted a young filly not an old hog, you idiot.”

  “I’ve still got plenty of charm,” Lucinda chortled.

  Before he could reply to Lucinda, another motorbike could be heard approaching. She didn’t think anything of it, except for the nervousness it seemed to create amongst the men around her.

  “Is that one of ours?”

  “No idea, you?”

  “No, wasn’t me. Johnny, get on the phone, find out who that is.”

  “Doesn’t matter boss, looks like whoever it is will be here any minute.”

  “Are you sure it’s not one of ours?”

  “Get your guns ready.”

  “Wait, it looks like Mikko’s bike.”

  “Aye, looks like it. What’s he doing?”

  “Stupid dog, must be late.”

  In amongst this, she found time to sit herself up on her backside and take a proper look at the scene. She counted six men in total, including the one that’d captured her. All of them looked scruffy, their skin looking like they’d sat by a fire for a week and hadn’t washed.

  Whilst their attention was diverted she squirmed in her constraints and tried to fidget her way out of them.
Getting nowhere she tried something else, brute force.

  The bike that distracted the men soon approached the small group and they quickly gathered together in readiness. The mystery bike came right up to the group, naturally as if nothing was amiss and parked in amongst the other bikes.

  Its rider dismounted, removed their riding gloves and was met by a series of raised guns. “Mikko?”

  After being challenged the rider paused and raised a hand to stop them, then slowly removed the helmet to reveal himself.

  Lucinda was surprised at who was underneath the helmet, she’d half expected another filthy, bearded biker but found herself pleasantly surprised. The man under the helmet was profoundly beautiful, with a full head of luscious blonde hair. He waved it away from his face and smiled at the group.

  “Who the hell are you?” one of the bikers challenged.

  “My name is Yonas, what is yours my friend?” He responded in a deep but melodious voice.

  “That’s a bloody girl’s name mate,” they all laughed.

  The man smiled but said nothing else, only walked up closer to the group with his helmet in his hands.

  “So just exactly what the hell are you doing?”

  She noticed the gang had all raised their weapons and were pointing them at the newcomer whilst he still approached, undeterred by the weapons.

  “Best not to do that now,” he said rather nonchalantly, shaking his finger at them. “I’ve come for that one over there, nothing more.”

  “She’s ours, piss off!”

  “I cannot do that sir.”

  “Back off mate!” came the challenge. “You’ve been warned!”

  “No need to threaten me gentlemen.”

  “Geez,” one of the men quipped, catching a whiff of his scent, a strong perfumed aroma wafting over the scene. “He smells like a girl.”

  “Ha! You’re right. I can smell his perfume from here.”

  “Kindly step away gentlemen. I am in need of a discussion with that lady.”

  Another burst of mock laughter, but the pretty man ignored it and kept coming, giving the group of bikers no alternative. The leader fired first, the rest of the group, urged on by his example, also fired their guns in unison.