by Matt J. Pike
Having a look at the map of South Australia is pretty depressing – every city or large town is on the coast. The only real exceptions are Mount Gambier (which must’ve been demolished in the Melbourne blast wave) or Murray Bridge (which wouldn’t have fared much better). Gawler may have some potential. It’s virtually an outer suburb of Adelaide these days, but it’s still country. And there’s potentially access to resources I could never get close to in the inner suburbs. Gawler also sits on that awkward topographic line where some of it would’ve been hit by the tsunami but some of the higher streets on the eastside would’ve survived. Most of the suburbs on Adelaide’s northern fringe would be under the tsunami line too, which may make it a natural oasis from the city. Even writing this down I’m starting to get excited.
The best bit about it is if it doesn’t work it’ll be heading us in the direction of the Riverland – Waikerie, Barmera, Berri, Loxton and Renmark – the only other large South Australian towns that could possibly be functioning right now. I reckon there are some likely looking conditions there too (based on the map). And, if nothing works out, we can just cross the border and hit every town from Mildura to Wagga Wagga. All rural, all on higher ground, all with potential. Beyond that is Canberra, the only Australian capital city to survive rock night intact. Who knows, maybe that’s our Nirvana?
I’m starting to feel the seeds of a quality idea here. It feels right. Surely if any community has survived in number and with resources, they are on this path somewhere. I mean, I can’t be sure of anything. I’ve not seen or heard any news on these places for weeks, and I haven’t visited since I was a kid (or not at all). They could be blown off the map, burned to the ground or a total warzone.
But I do know this, I rather die trying to get there than starving and scared on my patch here.
On the downside is the little fact Canberra is about 1200km away :S Hey, I never said it was a perfect plan, just a good one. I’ve got some logistics to think about regarding traveling and carrying food. Actually, there’s a lot of work ahead before we set off, but that’s not for me to work out today. I’m exhausted and I’ve distracted myself long enough from everything that happened today. I need to mourn. I need to hold my girlfriend and enjoy every moment with her – that’s important.
But one day, not too far away, we’re going on a road trip!
****
Sunday, May 18, 2014
8.45am: Last night was terrible. Not because of what I felt for everything that happened yesterday, but for what I didn’t feel. I was expecting to be overwhelmed by grief and loss, but I wasn’t. I felt violated, insecure, scared even. But for some reason the killings at the school have not hit me as hard as before.
Has something inside me changed? I’m starting to question myself as to why this doesn’t hurt more, but no matter how hard I try to make it hurt, it doesn’t. I didn’t cry once yesterday. Maybe each time I have to deal with something like this a little part of my humanity dies. Maybe that’s the way it has to be.
I sense Fiona feels the same. Even though she didn’t know these people as well as me, she wasn’t struck to the core by yesterday.
Thinking back to what we did at the school, carrying all those bodies, burying them in the ash, well, the only way you could cope was by detaching a part of your mind. It’s not a switch you can flick on and off at will. Maybe your mind automatically starts burying your emotions when there’s too much to deal with, just like it cuts off your sense of pain when you’re physically hurt beyond extreme.
4.40pm: The front door is now sealed. It has more wood attached to it than a Brazilian rain forest (assuming there are still Brazilian rain forests). Unless the hordes from some middle age battlefield suddenly materialise in my front yard with a battering ram, I think I’m safe from attack. Plus, I always like to be doing something physical around the house; it makes me feel than I’m not wasting time. However, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to conjure up enough jobs to keep that going while we ride this thing out.
6.30pm: I’ve been thinking about when’s the best time to leave and it seems to me that, logically, the later the better. If we can survive here and stay safe – and that’s a big if – then we are best to leave our run as late as possible. Two reasons. One, we have food supplies we can’t possibly take with us and, two, the longer we wait, the more settled the new world will become. Supply and demand are gonna take their toll on a lot of people. I can’t see anyone being generous with the food stocks now. But down the track when the bulk of people have been weeded out (starved/murdered) and people start working out how to produce food, then maybe things will change.
So, if riding things out here for a while is the best result – which it is – then we have to consider how to handle the Norwood hubbers. They will be back and this time they’ll have our map. They’ll know I live at this address. What they won’t know is if they’ve killed me or not. I see this as my only advantage. A very small one, but an advantage.
I’ve come up with a plan to survive and keep the majority of food in tact. Part of me thinks I’m crazy for thinking this, but the other part knows it’s the best way to stay alive and keep food stocks intact. They need to come in and raid the house. It’s the only way. We need to leave out a minimal amount of food for them to take and feel like they’ve cleaned us out. Meanwhile, I need to move everything else down into the cellar. All the rest of the food and any other items we’ll need for survival. Then we need to conceal the generator, which will be easy to hide with a tarp and some ash, I might do the same with the water – transfer it outside.
I’m thinking back to when I went from house to house with Mark and Jemma. We never checked outside. In fact, we’d poke out heads into every room but we really only had any interest in the kitchen/pantry. We had a number of places to cover and the work was tiring – it was the only way to be efficient. I need to put myself in their shoes when they come here. They’re will now be doing a thorough sweep, they just want to get in, get rewarded and move on. So if we give them an easy reward, hopefully they’ll tick us off their book, take the 15 or so cans I leave out and go.
They won’t be expecting me to have much food, as the community was sharing everything down at the school. It’s a convincing food footprint to leave on the world.
Here’s the tricky bit though. For this to work, and to ensure they never to come back, they have to think no one’s alive. The safest way would be to leave the house for a while, but there’d be no way of knowing when they came or left. This could happen at any time. It could be tomorrow, it could be two weeks away. How would we know if we weren’t here?
If we stay, we’ll have to ride out the raid in the cellar or shed. I prefer the cellar. They’d never suspect it was there and, if we cover the entry door with a rug, they’d never detect us. If they did go down there, we’d be armed and ready. How many people would be raiding us? Two or three at the most is my guess. If they did mange to find the cellar and climb down we’d have arrows in them before they knew what hit them.
It’s risky, but if it works and we’re not detected, we should be able to exist here undetected and undisturbed until we make our move for Gawler.
We will have to play things very carefully though; any hint of life and our cover could be blown in a second. That means no using the heater (which I don’t use much anyway) and no eating inside – both dead giveaways. Even sitting on the couch for too long could leave a warm patch that could give us away. It also means I have to shut down Dad’s laptop, which is connected to the courtyard security camera. Meanwhile, if we leave some food out to go bad and some dishes to gross up the sink we’ll go a long way towards convincing any raiders this house is abandoned.
We’ll have to practise our scramble to the cellar, time and time again, so we can pull it off quietly in a matter of seconds. We’ll have to find a spot for the bug-out bags that is out of sight but ready to take if things go pear shaped. We’ll also need to have a foolproof bug-out plan ready in the same circum
stances.
Then we just have to wait.
****
Monday, May 19, 2014
11.30am: It’s been a busy morning. I’ve found a spot for the bug-out bags in the side courtyard. It took an age to jimmy the BBQ out from the ice and ash, but I have managed to make enough room for the bags in the corner beside it. I’ve covered them in garbage bags to protect them from the ash and put a spare bit of tarp on top. I’ve used rope to link the bag handle to the tarp, so in theory I can heave everything out in one go, rip off the garbage bags and leave. At the moment the tarp is barely visible, and when the next ashfall comes it will disappear completely from prying eyes. I’ll just have to keep an eye on it every couple of days to make sure it doesn’t get frozen in.
It takes about 6-7 minutes to put on our outside gear. We have bagged that up too, and hidden it under the laundry sink. If we are under the pump we can grab the gear, then grab our bug-out bags and head for the Greek restaurant. When we get there we can suit-up and head off. At some point this week I’m going to take a few food supplies up to the restaurant too, just in case we have to leave in a hurry.
I’m yet to flesh-out our full plan but I think I want to make the Jamesons’ our first port of call. I’m not sure if they’re still around, but their house is about two hour’s walk in heavy conditions – it’s uphill, but very achievable and far enough away that no one will follow.
It would be nice to see a familiar face if they were still around but, even if they weren’t, it would be interesting to see Adelaide from the same perspective as impact night.
2.15pm: I’ve used some of Dad’s double-thick, double sided tape to stick a foot rug to the cellar door. It makes opening it an issue, but once it’s closed you’d have no idea it’s there. Instead of keeping it closed I have wedged a piece of wood across the corner so it stays open a few centimetres.
We have done a couple of run-throughs of how long it would take to hole-up in the cellar from the moment we hear a knock at the door. I’m on weapons duty, so I grab the crossbow, and the bow and arrows, Fi grabs any bowls, glasses or cutlery we’ve been using and takes them with her. If we’ve been sitting on the couch she turns the cushions over, just to be sure. Our best time was 48 seconds. That’s plenty quick enough. It’ll take anyone about that long to start trying to hammer down the door and another minute or two to realise they can’t, before they try down the side of the house for another access point. We just need to stay quiet, have a bit of luck and we’ll be fine… he says… somewhat confidently :S
The only real concern will come if we’re at a weak moment. If I’m cleaning the ice away from the bug-out kits or, worse still, going to the toilet.
Going to the toilet has become a far more disgusting event than in the past. I’m not sure if it’s frozen or has broken pipes or something else, but the flush mechanism hasn’t worked for weeks. Since then I have been, well, pissing into a vase. When it’s full enough or the smell is too overpowering I tip it out in the backyard. As for the more substantial of toilets breaks, that has been reduced to putting a large Tupperware container inside the actual toilet bowl, then emptying it out the back (or over the neighbour’s fence). It’s so gross I didn’t want to mention it in the diary, but now it’s become a factor in bigger issues.
The way I see it, we can’t afford to get caught ‘sitting down’, so to speak. We definitely can’t afford to get caught doing it inside – that would be a dead giveaway. That could cost us everything. So we’ve got to go outside from now until we’re raided. It’s a thoroughly depressing thought. It’s cold and disgusting enough without adding this to it! Still, it’s only temporary and I’d rather do that than lose my food supplies or my life.
I’ve got to give Fi credit, because when I suggest some of these crazy ideas I can see the look in her eye – the ‘that’s disgusting’ look. Despite this, she just accepts it as the gross reality of our situation. She may have also said, ‘you’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me’, too... but still, props to her.
So that’s it. For now we wait in the dark and cold, without electricity, until someone comes visiting. Maybe I’m being over-paranoid here, but to my mind (and based on what the Norwood hubbers have already done), they’ll definitely come back. They have the map that tells them which houses are occupied, or cleared, or were lived in by the Trinity Gardens community. They know everything; they have everything but the keys to my door.
Damn it! I’ve just remembered the notes I made about the deceased community members down at the school. I need my name in that book. I need them to think I am dead. I’ve got to go down there tonight and add it in. I’m not really up for reliving the scenes at the school anytime soon, but I have no choice. I figure I’ll head off late – after 9pm. If there are Norwood hubbers in the area then surely they’ll head home before that, given it takes a good hour to get there on foot.
****
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
6.45am: Last night went all to plan. There was no sign of anyone on the streets or at the school. I took a torch but barely used it. I was too worried someone would be watching. I took the crossbow with me and I’m not ashamed to admit I was sacred witless. I haven’t felt like that ever. I hate that feeling but I can’t see it changing any time soon. Everything has changed. It’s not my world anymore, I’m just a little fish wading through shark central.
I did manage to do some multitasking. When I was out, I took a bag full of food supplies (maybe a week’s worth) up to the Greek restaurant – our bug-out meeting point. I’ve hidden it behind the cleaning products and I was able to find a removable shelf, which I’ve used to obscure my stash at the back. I feel like it’s safe there.
That’s it for me, no more outside until we get raided, except when nature calls.
1.45pm: This day has taken forever already. It’s only early afternoon and I’ve long since run out of things to do. I’ve spent a bit of time working on the bug-out plan. I found a path from the Jamesons’ out to Gawler that takes us mostly along streets and roads under the tsunami line. I have a feeling the less human interaction we have on the road the better off we will be.
As per the plan, if Gawler doesn’t work out we’ll make our way up to the Riverland. If we were taking a car we’d use the Sturt Highway but, given we’re on foot, if we take the Murray St/Barossa Valley Way option (which is about the same distance), we’ll hit a bunch more small towns along the way. Lock that into the plan.
7.30pm: I’ve been thinking about how fast we will move along the roads. It helps to then calculate how long the trip will take and, therefore, what provisions we’ll need. My best guess says 2.5 km/hr would be top speed, so I’m calculating for 2km/hr. Based on that I think it’ll take 10-11 hours to get to Gawler. We could plan for 25km a day. That means it’s probably five days to get from Gawler to Waikerie. If we don’t have any luck there it would be another four days to make it to Renmark at the other side of the Riverland. Another five days to get to Mildura across the border in Victoria, which is about a third of the way to Canberra. The stretches a few days either side of Mildura seem the least likely to find anywhere to call home, but as we head into New South Wales and closer to Canberra the number of towns picks up again.
All up I think it would take about 45 days.
And therein lies the problem. Even on two meals a day, that’s 180 meals for the two of us. Given that most of the food remaining is in cans, and it’s about three cans to the kilogram, that’s about 60kg. Fiona wouldn’t weigh much more than 50kg! That’s without factoring in water. This food thing is going to need some more research.
Besides, what else will we need to travel? I have my tent, which is light and packs tight, but we’ll also need torches, can openers, knives, cutlery, weapons – so many things to consider, so much I feel I’m missing. This is a plan a long way from being ready.
Fortunately I’ve got nothing but time right now.
****
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
6.15
pm: It was another nothing day of dark, cold and too little physical activity. It puts pressure on me to come up with some amazing solution on how to pack right for the road, but then I find it harder to make rational decisions.
It’s also tough to think straight when you’re constantly on high alert for Norwood hubbers. I think Fi senses I’m getting stressed. She’s doing her best to take my mind off things but I keep finding a way to feel grumpy. Maybe it’s just the hell of being cooped up in this stupid place the entire time.
My life feels like it’s devolving. When you’re a baby your world is your house. As you grow, it expands to be the street, the school, friends places etc. Then, when you get your own wheels and free reign on the internet, your world – your awareness, your scope of understanding expands at a ridiculous rate.
But since rock day my world has closed in. It’s devolved. No media, no valid mode of transport, less friends – my world is slowly shrinking back in knowledge and scope to the size of my house, as if I was a baby again.
That’s the scary and depressing thought I can’t escape today.
****
Thursday May 22, 2014
7.30am: Feeling a little more positive today. Fi and I played some cards last night – euchre and cribbage mostly. Then we played a game of Monopoly (well, half a game), it’s been years since I did that sort of thing.
We did have our first argument, over Monopoly of all things. She has some bizarre rule interpretations. When she got the ‘Advance to go, collect $200’ card, she did so, but when she moved off go on her next shot she wanted ANOTHER $200! Erm… what? Not in this house! The other weird rule she had was if I landed on a property but chose not to buy it, she could. It’s a total game-changer. She was adamant she’d read the rules and both were in there, but it just sounded ridiculous. I think I came across as arrogant with my argument because she got really annoyed with me, hence the half a game of Monopoly.