by Matt J. Pike
Apocalypse: Diary of a Survivor 2
Matt J Pike
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Copyright 2016 Matt J Pike
Other books by Matt J Pike
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Apocalypse Survivors series:
Apocalypse: Diary of a Survivor
Apocalypse: Diary of a Survivor 3 - coming late 2017
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Starship Dorsano Chronicles:
Kings of the World
War & Quel
Revenge & Qualia – coming early 2018
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Zombie RiZing:
Scared to Beath
A Fate Worse than Beath
Life and Beath
Creeping Beath
Beath Becomes Her
Beath Defying
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Previously on Apocalypse: Diary of a Survivor
Monday, June 9, 2014
1pm: There are no words to describe how I feel right now. Fi is gone. Everything is lost.
Fi and I were just settling down for her birthday evening. We had full tummies and a couple of drinks. I was also hitting the wall after burning the candle at both ends trying to get Phoenix ready. We were at a weak moment. It was the worst time for a knock at the door.
God, I hate this world. We’d played everything so well and so carefully, but it couldn’t even let us enjoy one damn day.
Fi was at the door before me and told those knocking there were people home and they should move on. That was when a voice came back and we knew we were in trouble. It was Fi’s ex, Josh, and his mate Duncan. I could see the blood drain from Fi’s face as Josh called out to her. She didn’t respond and I just yelled out and asked them to move on. There was a short pause as they talked out of earshot outside the door, then there was a thumping sound.
They were attacking the door with something, trying to knock it down. We stood back, armed with the bow and crossbow, yelling at them to stop. At one point I opened the door to the latch so I could try to find out what they wanted. I didn’t know what else to do but it was a bad, bad move. Josh started calling Fi all sorts of names and threatening to kill her. I told him to back off. He told me to shut up. Fi started screaming at Josh and the door kept getting pounded. It was pandemonium.
I shoved the nose of the crossbow through the gap in the door and yelled out that if they didn’t stop I’d shoot. Before I knew it, there were three loud bangs and my hand exploded in pain. I looked down and my little finger on my left hand was mangled. I’d been shot. There was a scream outside and as I retracted the crossbow and shut the door, I noticed the bow was gone. I’d fired it in all the chaos and hit one of them. Josh swore so loudly I figured it was him.
There was a lull for a few seconds then I heard footsteps out the front. I knew one of them was headed to the side door. Fi was saying “stop” over and over again. I went over, grabbed her and said, “We need to go now!”
The house was a mess. Everything we had set up was in chaos because we were packing for the Canberra trip. It slowed us down just enough. There was a moment of confusion as we realised the only thing we could afford to take with us was us – no time for bug-out bags, no time for anything. All I could do was reload the crossbow and think of the best way to get out of there.
As I opened the sliding door by the courtyard I could hear one of them negotiating the side fence. I took a couple of steps outside to see if I could get a gauge on whether we had time to make a run for next door. I heard another bang as a bullet fizzed past me. I turned and hauled ass inside. Maybe, thinking back on it now, we could’ve come back in and headed out again via the back patio while we had the chance. We definitely could’ve made a run for it in the confusion. But we didn’t. It was my fault, it was my call. I yelled out to Fi to head to the cellar.
I locked the sliding door behind me, but we hadn’t even reached the cellar before I heard the shatter – I assume they put a bullet through it. They would’ve been entering the house as I lifted the rug and opened the cellar door. I kept the door open with my injured hand while Fi climbed in. My other hand was on the crossbow, ready to fire should anyone come into sight before we got in.
Fi got down and I moved into position to follow her. I threw myself on my stomach under the door and stuck my bum up so it could take the door’s weight. I remember my feet searching for a rung on the ladder just as Duncan entered the room. I fired an arrow at his head but it hit him in the collarbone. I heard the arrow lodge and his shriek of pain before I tumbled backwards into the cellar.
Maybe it was a dumb move. Maybe I could’ve slipped into the cellar before he noticed. Maybe if I did we could’ve hidden unnoticed. They could’ve taken what they wanted and left. But I didn’t and now they knew where we were.
I reloaded the crossbow and we just sat at the back of the cellar, as quiet as we could. My heart was going crazy and my hand started to throb with pain. I looked at Fi. She was a wreck, tears streamed down her face and she mouthed ‘I’m sorry’.
Above us Duncan swore in pain and then thumped his feet across to the front door where he let Josh in. We sat and listened as the footsteps made their way to right over us. Duncan said ‘they’re down there’ before asking Josh what they should do.
I’ll never forget Josh’s response. ‘They shot us, we’ll kill them’.
They argued about it for some time. They were both clearly hurt, Duncan with his shoulder and Josh with his leg. Both wanted different outcomes. Duncan just wanted to get some food and get out of there, but for Josh, it was personal. I’m not sure if it was personal with me for shooting him, Fiona for leaving him, or the hour we spent together pre-rock, or all of it – and in the end it didn’t really matter.
Fi and I moved as far back in the cellar as we could. I moved myself in front of her and positioned the torch between my legs so it was shining on the door to blind them when they opened it. Behind me, Fi leaned out and had her bow and arrow cocked and ready to go. I held her with my sore hand and aimed my crossbow with my good one.
I whispered to Fi that we had the advantage. They didn’t know the layout of the cellar or where to fire and they would be blinded by the light. We, on the other hand, knew exactly where to aim. I wasn’t sure if I totally believed what I was saying. I mean, they had guns and we had arrows, but I figured it was a thought worth hanging on to.
We just waited. Listened and waited. Duncan was stalling; he clearly didn’t want to go after us, for whatever reason, and started trying to draw Josh’s attention to the food and supplies he’d seen at the rear of the house. He also complained about the pain in his shoulder. Josh was drawn away for a moment, but soon returned his focus to the cellar and us.
We could hear every word as they planned how to attack us. They were going to open the door and shoot like crazy. Fi said ‘I’m sorry’ again. I told her I loved her and I kissed her. Then I moved the torch from my lap to a pile of cans to my left. I wedged it so it was aimed at the door... my thought was they would see the light and aim for it and I didn’t want them shooting at my groin. Then I lined up my spare arrows on the floor between my legs.
I was shaking and I could feel Fi doing the same. She kept saying sorry over and over again. Then we heard them doing a countdown above – three, two, one...
The door creaked open about a third of the way and a pistol filled the gap and fired straight down. The sound was overwhelming. The shots echoed through my ears and they crushed under the weight of the noise. You could hear the bullets ricocheting around the cellar. The door slammed shut again. Neither Fi nor I had fired.
Above us we could hear them arguing about whether they’d hit us or not. Duncan kept asking what happened and Josh was screaming that he didn’t know. Duncan said he was going to leav
e before Josh told him they were going to finish us off now.
Josh counted down again. This time he partly opened the door, fired a couple of shots then opened the door further to look in and aim. I fired my crossbow, Fi fired hers, both arrows connected – mine with his face and Fi’s with his neck. Josh reeled back from the impact and screamed in pain. The door shut once more. Josh’s swearing echoed through the house. I could hear footsteps leading to the door – just one set. Duncan had left. Josh called him a pussy and screamed again in frustration.
We took our chance to reload. While I was at it I repositioned the torch to my right; I hoped it’d throw him when he opened the door again.
I could hear him above, screaming and swearing. He stood up and paced around for a while. I could hear his mind ticking over. He hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t contemplated losing – getting injured. And now he was alone and in a world of hurt. The scream was sickening. It was the scream of someone in total meltdown. A dangerous scream – confused, angry, helpless, out of control.
I heard him start to cry and breath in and out like a madman. Then I heard him release the clip on his pistol and load another one. I knew that was the moment. He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care if he died as long as he hurt us.
Fi kept saying “I’m sorry”. I told her to wait until you could see his face and shoot straight at it. Seconds later the door opened fractionally again, two or three bullets were pumped in. My ears screamed again. Worse still, the torch became dislodged and landed on the ground, facing us.
I slid forward to try to kick it away just as the door opened further. I saw him and, for the first time, he saw me. He fired, I fired, Fi fired. I felt a pain in my shoulder – I’d been shot. Then I felt another pain as Josh’s body fell face first on to the cellar floor, and on to my legs. His gun dislodged from his hands and slid across the floor towards me. I picked it up, turned it on him and pulled the trigger until it wouldn’t fire anymore. I was in pain and deaf. It was only when I turned to Fi that I realised she’d been hit.
She was bleeding from the chest on her left side. It was bad.
I grabbed the torch, turned to face her, looked her in the eyes and screamed ‘are you OK?’
I couldn’t even hear myself talk. I looked in her eyes and she was conscious. I picked her up, putting her over my shoulder – somehow – and stepped over Josh’s body towards the ladder.
I managed to get three rungs up. From there I put her bum on the floor above and pushed her back as gently as possible. I don’t think it was a graceful landing, but she didn’t scream. I pushed her legs far enough out of the hole that I was able to climb out. She was bleeding from the chest and the mouth.
I ripped her jacket off and then her two tops so I could inspect the wound. It didn’t look good. I asked if she was OK, but she didn’t respond. Her eyelids started to droop. I screamed at her to stay awake. I just yelled it over and over again while I tried to clear my head as to what to do next.
I ran and grabbed the first aid kit. I took out some gauze and dabbed the wound. Fi winced in pain. I pulled the gauze away and it was red. I sprayed some antiseptic then applied some fresh gauze then wrapped some white medical cloth around her chest four or five times, using sports tape to keep it all in position.
Fi started drifting off again. I slapped her face and yelled at her to stay awake. She started coughing and spluttering and I knew I was losing her. I struggled to work out what to do… this was beyond my limits. The only thing I could think of was the Firle hub – maybe there was a doctor there. It was a remote chance but it was all I could think of. If I could drag her to Phoenix I could get there in 10-15 minutes. I ran to the bedroom and pulled the quilt off the bed. It was the only thing I could think of to use as a stretcher at short notice.
But when I got back her eyes were closed and she was making this strange gurgling sound. I checked her pulse on her wrist – there was nothing. I tried again on her neck with the same result. I remember trying to give her CPR. I’m not sure if I was doing it for one minute or 10, but when I stopped, I knew it was over.
I screamed.
I started going crazy. I remember thinking if I could get her to the Firle hub there might still be a chance someone could save her. I rolled her on to the quilt and started dragging it towards the back door, towards Phoenix. I knew it was useless but through the shock and the pain and the deafness and the haze it was all I could of think to do.
Then the quilt got snagged on something. I tried to wrench it free by giving it a couple of big tugs. I turned back to Fi only to realise I was smashing her head against the doorframe.
I stopped. I moved back and apologised. Then I laid down next to her, cuddled her and cried some more. That’s when it all became too much – the pain in my shoulder and hand, the pain in my heart. I just closed my eyes and shut down.
I woke up at some point… I don’t know how long I was out for. I just lay there for a while with Fi’s body in my arms. I cried.
I’ve lost my best friend. I’ve lost my only friend. I’ve lost my lover and my reason for even surviving in this bastard world. I cried and cried.
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Wednesday, June 11, 2014
I buried Fi yesterday. Nothing I ever do in this world again will be as hard. I buried her with all her possessions and all my love. I told her life story, at least what I knew of it, to the ash and dust and to the absent friends.
I buried her with my hope.
I’m crippled now. Emotionally spent, physically exhausted. I’ve got nothing left to give. Everything is meaningless. Everything.
I don’t know what to do or where to turn. Signing off.
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Sunday, June 15, 2014
Today I leave you behind, diary. I leave you behind to collect dust with the rest of my past world. There’s nothing left for me here now. I am going to finish this post, wrap you in plastic and leave you on the table to guard the house.
Who knows, some day someone might discover you. The looters will ignore you, as you have nothing for them, but years later, centuries later maybe, when the world has repaired itself, someone may come to free you, to bring you to life again.
Maybe Adelaide will be buried by then, just a few building shells poking out of the top of a sea of ash like giant tombstones to the life and humanity that perished here.
I leave here wondering what will become of life, partly my life, but at the moment I can see that doesn’t count for much. I’m surviving, but I just need to find a reason to do so. It’s more about the BIG life, the life of humans. When this all ends – and who knows when that will be – months, years, centuries – are we destined to die out? Starving, suffocating on ash and killing each other for the final traces of food?
We could survive, but what will we become? A scattering of tribes, armed and dangerous future cavemen, maybe? Is that any better than dying out altogether? If we lose the things that made us human, then maybe we are no longer human at all.
And what of the centuries of knowledge and art and technical advances – will that survive? Will future mankind blow away all the ash and start again? Or will it be like apes staring at the monolith at the start of 2001: A Space Odyssey – a puzzled bewilderment at an ancient, glorious and misunderstood halcyon day.
That would make me sick to the stomach, knowing we had it all, we had endless possibilities and we squandered them. I try not to let the thought come to my head too often, but the truth is, we knew something like this could happen one day, probably the only thing that could kill us off, but we threw some coins at a few scientists and assumed it would go away. Risk management they’d probably call it. Human risk management. Meanwhile, the amount we spent on our military budget was a crime. We chose war and killing over our future and we got caught out by an unlucky roll of the dice that cost us everything.
Maybe I’m talking rubbish. Maybe I’m just looking for someone to blame for all this. I have spent so much time trying to survive I couldn’t afford
to think too much about blame. But it was always there in the background and now it’s raging through me. Surely this is someone’s fault?
Maybe it’s God. Maybe it was the biblical apocalypse. Maybe the second coming came and went and I didn’t get a ticket to heaven. I probably didn’t deserve one to be honest. Maybe I’m destined to walk this hell on Earth for all eternity.
Maybe it was just super random, bad luck on a galactic scale. It happened to the dinosaurs and now it’s happened to us. Maybe that’s life’s ultimate joke, just an epic highlighter pen marking the pointlessness of it all.
Just ignore me, diary, I’m not in a good place. Sorry we have to leave on such awkward terms.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts...
My hope is that one day, when survivors emerge from the ash into the sunshine again, they’ll keep the lessons of the past. They’ll rebuild the cities, restart the servers, revive the sense of community. They’ll build again and always remember why they are where they are. We are all at the whim of Mother Nature, or her cosmic cousin, and if we are truly going anywhere as a species we can never forget that.
In reality we are all small twigs on large family trees, intertwined in a global forest started by the same acorn. Funny how quickly we forgot that. Maybe I’m partly to blame for keeping my resources to myself, for not sharing with my community when it was in need. I didn’t kill anyone for food, but maybe I was a small step down that slippery slope. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about the community and what happened. Not a day goes by I don’t feel guilty.
That will haunt me forever as will the memories of everyone I’ve lost – family, friends, Fi. Especially Fi. So, too, the sky will haunt me always – a dark, cold daily reminder this is my life; the days of light and colour are gone. I was there once, with my friends and family and first-world problems. Now it’s just a distant dream.
And my brother, I miss my brother. I have no idea if he’s alive or dead and the reality is I never will. He is lost to me, like those who have died. There’s nothing I can do or say that fill the void.