Apocalypse Diary of a Survivor [Book 1]

by Matt J. Pike

  We soon found ourselves laughing at the stupidity of the whole situation. I mean, we’re sitting in a cold, dark house waiting to be raided by armed killers for our supplies and we managed to have a fallout over the ownership rights of Old Kent Road. After we settled we had a couple of drinks to celebrate our first argument and retired early where Fi did an even better job of helping me take my mind off things. She’s really good for me like that. Just knowing when to help me out (when I can’t see it myself). It’s made a big difference.

  Monopoly aside, last night was what I needed and today is going to be a good day.

  2pm: We just had the fright of our lives. There was a loud crashing sound outside – it must’ve been big to hear it over the gale that’s blowing. Anyways, we immediately went into scramble to cellar mode. It took us about 1 minute 20 – much longer than our best practices. I guess we were caught off-guard and confused. There’s a lesson in that.

  My heart was beating out of my chest as we lay in wait in the cellar. I know that’s a saying, ‘heart beating out of my chest’, but that’s exactly what it felt like. I just couldn’t control the adrenalin surging through me. Maybe it was adrenalin, maybe it was a panic attack – either way, I’ve got to control that.

  After about five minutes we started to realise there was no one in the house. But I wasn’t too keen to leave before I was sure. In the end we waited down there for 25 minutes. I was a mental wreck trying to convince myself it was safe to open the hatch to the cellar. I tried to ease it open gently but it’s seen better days so it groaned and creaked loud enough to alert anyone within earshot. Thankfully that was just Fi and I.

  I remember saying something stupid like, ‘Is anybody there?’, but there was no answer. If there was I’m sure I would’ve known all about it. We did a sweep of the house and gave it the all clear.

  Curiosity got the better of me and I went outside to investigate. Turns out the noise was the sound of one of the trees falling over on the street. I suppose a combination of high winds, zero sunlight in weeks and a heavy layer of ash and ice was it’s undoing.

  ****

  Friday, May 23, 2014

  10.45am: I am seriously bored. I’ve got things to do and plans but I can’t bring myself to move. I’m frozen with boredom. Everything is on hold while I wait for the inevitable.

  Is it inevitable? Surely it’s the logical move for them to make. I mean, I assume they have the map. If they have the map, they have a house-by-house guide to the status of every property around here. Free resources for them to take. Why wouldn’t they? They’ve done it before and the longer they leave it the more chance they give those remaining here to gather and use those resources. Tactically it would be a mistake to wait any longer than they have to. That’s how it plays out in my mind – perfectly logical, strategic move.

  The only thing missing is them. They haven’t come. It’s been days now… we’re prime for attacking… why haven’t they come? Maybe they don’t have the map after all. But they have to have the map, who else would? Why aren’t they coming? Why?

  This is seriously doing my head in. Just raid me already, I’m waiting. Come at me bitches!

  Random thought of the day.

  So transport is all but impossible in this day and age. Roads are ruined and covered in ash, most coastlines and boats are destroyed and air travel is impossible. But there’s one mode of transport that can’t be stopped, even in these conditions – the hovercraft! Imagine if I could get my hands on one of those? That would be a game changer.

  I mean, I know I’m dreaming – hovercrafts are something you use to cruise across the everglades in Florida, not in Adelaide. But life would be completely different if I could get my hands on one. I could cruise the city or beyond as I wished, zipping over the ash like it wasn’t there. There’s no shortage of petrol anywhere so the only limitation would be punctures. I want one!

  My random thought of the day started as a loopy musing, turned into a slightly insane person’s attempt at a joke and now I’m seriously thinking about it. I wouldn’t know the first idea about how to make one or where to find one, but if I could somehow manage it I could own this world!

  8.20pm: Just consulted the good old yellow pages and it was nothing but a tease. The only listing for hovercraft in the index pointed to the ‘Tourist Attractions, Information and Services’ section but when I looked there I couldn’t find any mention of a hovercraft. Swear word!

  I really want one now. I’m starting to obsess. I’m going to build one*.

  *He said not knowing where to start.

  9pm: I forgot to mention this earlier. Today the mercury reached the whopping heights of three degrees. This is far worse than the more alarmist expert warnings pre-rock. It just goes to show we are dealing with events far beyond the scope of human understanding. We are breaking new ground in suffering! Great to be a ground-breaker some days :/

  I shudder to think what the middle of July will bring. And I only hope we do actually come out of winter with something resembling warmth later this year.

  ****

  Saturday, May 24, 2014

  8.30am: Fi and I broke our own rules last night. I think the boredom got to us and we watched a movie – Borat. I love that film. I’ve seen it a dozen times, at least, but Fi never had the pleasure.

  We used the laptop on battery supply and watched it in bed, under the quilt, so no light and little noise would get out. I haven’t laughed like that in ages, partly at the movie but mostly at Fi’s reaction to it. Especially the hotel scene… ewww!

  9.15am: The house is really gross at the moment. It’s through necessity, rather than laziness but it doesn’t make it any easier to live with. The smell of the mouldy food we left out a few days ago can only be described as overpowering. The scary thing is we’ve been living in the smell and, I assume, have built up a tolerance. When anyone comes to raid this place they are not going to want to hang around long, that’s for sure.

  I’m starting to worry about our battery situation too – the torches are the only light we have at the moment and if we run out of batteries, well, that would not be nice! I’ve got a number of rechargeables but they’re running out quickly and I won’t be able top them up until we can run the generator again. All the heavy-duty batteries are already out of commission because we’ve really only got AA batteries left, which only go in the little torches. We’re burning through those at a rate too. I’ve resorted to raiding every toy, remote control and electronic device I can think of to get us through. I might have to do a raid of Mr Nichols’ place to see if I can stock-up.

  10am: I’m still not letting the hovercraft thing go. I’m starting to think of ways to actually build one. I mean, if I could get my hands on a large fan, connect to a lawnmower engine, attach it all to a base, throw on a couple of seats and attach the whole thing to a bunch of inflated tyre tubes protected by some sort of sturdy material covering, well, I’d have a hovercraft.

  There’s only one problem with the last sentence – that’s the word ‘if’, which has such big ramifications for the rest of the sentence. I’ve been shown how to build and weld but it’s not my strong suit. I’m not sure where I could source all the gear needed to do the job and I’d need to find a place to do it.

  Dad’s got some of the welding gear, but our shed is nowhere big enough, however I know Mr Nichols spent a lot of time in his shed, so I’m guessing he may have some additional equipment and some space to work.

  As for the giant fan, well, Kennards hire is only around the corner. If there’s going to be one anywhere, it’d be there. I know it’s probably been looted to hell, but who in their right mind would take a fan? They may even have some motors to I can nab. If not it shouldn’t be hard to find a decent lawnmower engine.

  Tyre tubes will be everywhere. I probably wont even need to jack a car up to take one, either. Just dig the tyre out of the ash, let the air out and take the whole wheel.

  Most of the other bits and pieces will be around so
mewhere, I guess the main bit is coming up with a way to hook up a petrol motor to a large fan to create enough thrust to get the thing moving, the rest will…. Shit – they’re here.

  1.20pm: Raided. At last! And we survived, undetected. I’m still shaking.

  I’m not sure how long we took to get down the cellar after we heard the knock at the door. I’m not even sure what they even knocked on the door with; it sounded metallic, maybe a crowbar. I was writing in the diary and Fi was reading a book. We didn’t even look at each other, just jumped straight into scramble mode. Fi had already cleared the breakfast dishes up so all she had to do was flip the couch cushions and do a quick sweep of the rest of the living area. I crept to the entrance and grabbed the crossbow and other weaponry – I didn’t make a sound. By the time I reached the cellar the door was already open and Fi was safe inside. I followed her in and we lowered the hatch down and waited.

  It must’ve taken them 4-5 minutes to bust open the front door. We could hear the frame being ripped to shreds as they tried to bust past the defences I’d set up. Stupid raiders – they were supposed to give up on the front door and take the side entrance. It would’ve saved a lot of hassle.

  Once they were in, our plans worked a treat. Judging by the voices there were only two of them – a man and a woman – she was obviously in charge. They were trying to talk but were on the verge of gagging with every breath. The woman ordered the man to raid the kitchen. He must’ve had a container or something because it sounded like he was sweeping handfuls of food in at a time. I don’t know if they were in a hurry because of a schedule or because they were dying from the smell, but either way, it was perfect.

  While he was crashing and banging away I could hear her footsteps go to the front bedrooms. This is when I was most concerned – had we concealed our presence well enough? About a minute later her footsteps came past again on the way to the back of the house. My heartbeat was going mental. It was so crazy my breathing started to get shallow Fi grabbed my hand, which helped a little – we were in this together.

  Then she came back to the kitchen and stood what must have been very close to the hatch. She asked the guy if he was done yet, he responded with a ‘yep’. Then she said, ‘good, let’s get out of this dump’. Then the footsteps started again, this time marching more and more distant, and quiet, and never coming back.

  We waited for a few minutes more, I didn’t even realise Fi and I were in an embrace, not only holding hands but wrapped around each other’s bodies too.

  Eventually we shared a little laugh down there – it had worked! Living without electricity, in a place degenerating into filth – it had sown the seeds we wanted. Now, according to the Norwood hubbers (and probably to the rest of the world for that matter) we were dead and this house was a deceased and raided estate. It now served no purpose to anyone. We held each other a while longer and kissed – it was a kiss less of passion, more pride and relief.

  After we thought we’d given the thing long enough, and after waiting another 10 minutes after that, we pushed our way out of the cellar. The first thing I did was sneak to the entrance of the house to see if there was anyone outside. It looked clear to me – we were nearly home free.

  I inspected the door while I was there. They did a fair job in butchering it. It’s a major problem. That door is our security, from the weather and from others, so it needs fixing. I think we’ll have to ride it out tonight as there’s no way of knowing if the Norwood folk will still be on the street or not.

  4.15pm: The wind has picked up this afternoon, and is doing its best to take the edge off my good mood. Worse still, I don’t think it’s a good idea to fire up the generator tonight. Just in case. Tonight we just have to rug up and embrace the cold, knowing things will be a whole lot better tomorrow.

  After today I’m confident the Norwood hubbers won’t be back any time soon. Here’s my logic. One – they know the Trinity Gardens community raided every other house in the area, so the only houses they’ll get any benefit from are those of community members. Two – they would’ve done this in one sweep. It doesn’t make any sense to prolong getting their hands on the resources they needed, they would’ve sent everyone they could spare today to get the food and carry it back. It’s the best use of their people resources. Three – they know the city has resources to offer. They’ll view that as their best future prospecting area, and after that, the suburbs east and southeast of Norwood. I’m convinced we are seen as a dead zone now – no food or weapons to offer, no enemies to fear, we are nothing to them. And that’s good news to me.

  ****

  Sunday, May 25, 2014

  8.10am: I put every quilt, blanket and sheet I could find on the bed last night, covered myself in two layers and wore gloves. It took all that to get comfortable. But I couldn’t sleep; part of me was still on a high from the victory and part of me was spinning with ideas for the future. Today is a bright new day in devastated Adelaide, full of possibilities. I can breath in the sweet smell of opportunity… and rotting food… and ash.

  It’s hard to know if the door is salvageable. Most of the superficial damage is around the lock area, but the real impact was on the frame, which was shredded. I’m not sure what they used to make such a mess of it, but it clearly worked for them.

  I’m not entirely sure on the best approach to fix it, as the lock itself is still functional, somehow, despite having a few chunks missing. Plan A is to see if I can use some of a doorframe from Mr Nichols’ place. I’m really out of my comfort zone here but if I can remove it in something close to one piece I might have a chance of replacing the whole side of my frame here. Then I just need to secure the lock back into place, cross fingers, and we’ll be sweet.

  Plan B consists of just sealing the entire doorway– so it never opens again. It’s not a bad Plan B but I’d prefer to fix it properly.

  3.30pm: Four hours to replace some wood – four hours! I tried to use the doorframe from the back door at Mr Nichols’ place. I worked on the outer side panel of the door frame, the one the lock end was embedded in. I used a hacksaw to cut it top and bottom, then tried to lever it clear with a crowbar. I did manage to get it out but the piece of wood I was left with was too mutilated. I scavenged around and, between Dad’s shed and Mr Nichols’ shed, was able to find a couple of solid pieces of pine, some heavy glue, a saw, plane, hammer, screwdriver, drill, chisels and clamps. In the end I just started from scratch, removing the damaged frame and replacing it with a piece I shaped from the spare block of wood in Mr Nichols’ shed. It took a number of attempts to get the fit just right, but it was worth it.

  I’ve now just got to give the glue a chance to dry properly before I cut out a recess for the lock. Meanwhile, the door has to stay ajar while the clamps are attached, so the weather’s still getting in, but not as bad as before. If all goes to plan we will have a fully functional door some time after dinner tonight.

  Fi has done her fair share of hard work today too. She’s been on lookout duty while I’ve been doing my thing. I really doubted the Norwood crew was coming back any time soon, but if they did we would’ve been totally exposed. With today’s visibility you could see torch light from about 50m away, so Fi would’ve had enough warning to grab me though, so we could scurry back down the cellar.

  It’s mid afternoon now so I seriously doubt we will be seeing anyone today.

  6pm: Just had a chance to admire my own handiwork after taking off the clamps… gee I impress me. It’s sitting pretty flush and the door action is smooth. I’ve now added the lock and everything lines up perfectly. I used to love helping Dad out in the shed, tinkering with bits and pieces, but I never took on anything like this before. It makes me believe I’m actually a silly chance to build a hovercraft. Sure, it’s a whole world in advance of repairing a door frame, but I’ve got the tools at my disposal, I’ve got the idea and I’ve got plenty of time. Why not?

  Tomorrow I’m going to varnish my handiwork on the doorframe, I want to finish the
job off so you’d never know the door was damaged. #slightlyanal

  9.15pm: It’s Fi’s birthday in a couple of weeks and I want to do something nice for her. To give her a day that takes her away from this place and all the thoughts that come with it. I feel for her; I mean, we’re all doing it tough, but she’s got less than me. She lived with her mum pre-rock, but they never really got along. Her dad has been in Western Australia working in the mines for years, so she hasn’t seen him since she was 12. Her mum was her only Adelaide family, and she lived under the tsunami line, unfortunately. Fi was lucky she was at her boyfriend’s that night – it saved her life. Maybe that was the only good thing he did for her.

  I’ve got a feeling she’s just one of those people who didn’t grow up with close friends, was kinda rejected family and has developed a thick emotional skin as a consequence. It fits perfectly with the douchebag boyfriend thing. She just hitched up to the guy hoping he was the answer to problems, but he wasn’t. So now she has no family, no anything… the only thing she’s got is me, my shelter and my supplies. I’m glad I was here for her when she needed me. I know, deep down, she must think about the fact she doesn’t have anything apart from what I’ve given her.