October

by Dave Rowlands

  evening

  We watched as the Dead discovered the fence had been neutralised, pushing into it and knocking it down after a short time. The few Raiders attempting to herd them ran back to the main building as gunfire erupted from inside. Lieutenant clapped me on my uninjured shoulder, telling me that I’d done well as screams of pain rose from the Raiders unfortunate enough to not have gotten to shelter before encountering the horde of hungry Dead.

  German Doctor spent a short while digging splinters from my shoulder and back, cleaning my bite wound as she did so, bandaging the whole thing up when she was done. Nibbling on a piece of jerky I’d retrieved from my pocket, I watched as the Dead tore the Raider base apart. The few survivors that fled ran as hard and fast as they could in the opposite direction; nobody saw the Rangers camp.

  We made our way back to Sanctuary, secure in the knowledge that the region was safe from the Raiders’ predations once again. I felt an emptiness in my stomach, looked to The Kid and found him gazing at me with an expression of concern.

  Journal of A.G.

  Deathwish’s men came back this morning. They’d discovered the remains of The Master’s people, alright; every last one had been torn to pieces by tiny sharp teeth, many with not enough flesh left on their bones to reanimate in Death. Every last one of the scouts had returned with a haunted look on their faces; as if they’d seen things that nobody should ever have to deal with. Having seen what the Plague-bunnies left of their victims, I knew exactly how they felt.

  The Master decided that, were the Plague-bunnies to attack The Fortress, the best thing to do would be to lay traps for them. We didn’t know how fast they could move, or how many there’d be in a group, nor did we even know whether they’d come after us, we only figured that they had somehow become predators now and predators hunt prey. We were a large group of Plague-bunny prey all sitting in a large, heavily fortified shopping complex.

  Lots of Molotov cocktails were prepared. Thousands, if my guess was right, mostly made from bottles of alcohol, since the small amount of petrol that they had was required for running the generators. The Master complained loudly, and not for the first time, that The Queen should get the electrical grid back online somehow so that we needn’t be so reliant on the generators but made sure everybody here was ready in case of Plague-bunny incursion anyway.

  I could only hope that if they came, when they came, we’d somehow survive the onslaught…

  October 22nd Year 1 A.Z.

  morning

  The Leader of The Rangers had greeted us with a hero’s welcome, and we’d feasted well into the night before passing out from exhaustion. Once we woke, I found my trio of travelling companions, sought out Survivor and discussed plans for moving on to the west, to Perth. Survivor tried to dissuade us from our path, talking once more about the cult that had nearly killed her on a number of occasions. I reasoned that there were certainly other groups there, that might need help or at the very least should be connected to the radio network. In the end she relented, telling us what she could remember of ways into and out of the city, wishing us luck and safety on our travels.

  The one thing that Survivor had insisted on was that we’d need to head to the north, past The Mutator’s complex, and swing around to the west coming into the city from that direction. Her memories of the city were that the cultists had almost total control of the south-eastern half of the city, though they were separated from the rest by the Swan river. Apparently, nobody was willing to cross that stretch of water except the large amounts of watery Dead that churned up the river bottom, turning the surface of the waterway black.

  The Leader offered us some extra weaponry, a pistol and assault rifle each for German Doctor and I. Criss-Cross and The Kid were for all intents and purposes walking arsenals in their own right and had no real need of anything more. Besides which, his fingers had mutated and grown larger than would be easily accommodated by a trigger guard.

  noon

  We’d stopped for a while, eating lunch and discussing our options. German Doctor was examining my shoulder again, this time with a very worried expression. She poked and prodded, I felt nothing at all, and she drained what seemed like several litres of dark grey and yellow pus from the wound.

  “This is looking very nasty,” The concern was audible. “I don’t know what to do about this if it gets any worse…” She washed the bite and wrapped it up in a fresh bandage, having acquired several from The Rangers’ medical supplies as a thank you gift for helping them. “While we’re nearby, maybe our new extra-terrestrial friends might be able to help?”

  We made our way to the Mutators’ complex, Criss-Cross leading us along the same roads we’d taken with Survivor and The Lad a few days ago. This time, as we approached, several of the strange alien scientists were out amongst the animal enclosures, picking their next specimens to mutate into whatever nightmarish form might be more well equipped to survive in this new world. They glanced up from their duties, hearing the rumble of the motorcycle that German Doctor was riding, one hurrying inside.

  A brief moment later, The Administrator came out, smiling in her bizarre alien fashion, welcoming us with open arms and ushering the four of us inside. We were taken to the conference room again, where we indulged in coffee and donuts while we spoke.

  German Doctor wasted no time in describing my symptoms to The Administrator, telling her that I’d been bitten by someone that was Dead, yet seemed Living, similar to our friend The Kid. I continued by telling her about The Major’s experimentation with The Kid’s brain tissue and how a vaccine had been made and tested on me and a few other people before Disciple had gnawed on my shoulder. The Administrator agreed that it seemed serious, and that she’d see what her Chief Physician was able to do about it.

  evening

  I was taken out into the main operating room and told to lie on a nearby unoccupied table, my friends watching intently, particularly German Doctor, from an observation area above. The Administrator spoke with several others of her kind in their tongue, many of them nodding quietly. One spoke back. I was unable to understand anything being said, of course. Doctors speaking about their patients amongst themselves while ignoring their presence seemed a universal constant.

  After a short discussion, The Administrator told me that her Chief Physician would take care of me, introducing him. He was a little shorter than others of his species that I’d seen, and he wore what I could only describe as a technologically augmented monocle through which he peered at my wound while prodding it with a thumb.

  “I shall do what I can to assist. This experience may disturb, but you should feel no discomfort.” He grinned at me in a friendly manner. “All I ask is a small sample of your blood to analyse. It may be that we can develop a more effective vaccine for your species. This will save trillions of lives in the future.” I told him to go ahead, take as much as he needed.

  A tiny speck of red then flew from my shoulder, hovering above my face, slowly spinning in place while Chief gathered a small vial into which it dropped. He then handed the vial off to an underling, chattering in their bizarre language.

  “Thank you. I begin the process of helping and healing now.” He pushed a few buttons on the medical table that I lay on. I found myself unable to move, or even breathe. Strangely, this inability to breathe did not seem uncomfortable, it was just something that I couldn’t do. “Try to not struggle. Easier if you stay still. This will be over soon.”

  I became aware of my blood slowly draining out of my body, gathering in a large dark red ball that hovered above my head. The colour seemed off slightly. Chief took a surgical instrument that clicked and whirred, waved it around my shoulder, pushed it into the bite wound. At first, I felt nothing at all, after a minute or so there was definite discomfort that turned into sharp pain. I’d never welcomed pain so much in all my life…

  Chief then took another tool, placed it in the air next to my blood-ball and pushed a button on it. Watching with fascination and
mild horror, I saw my blood siphon through this device, forming another ball on the other side. This second ball was a more vivid red, the colour that blood should be. When all of it had passed through the device, Chief took it, looked at it in mild disgust, handed it to an underling and smiled down at me.

  “Almost finished now. Please be patient.” My blood then funnelled down and into my body through my chest, directly into and through my heart, which began beating again the moment the life fluids passed through it. I’d not even noticed that it had ceased functioning… In a few short minutes all of my blood had travelled through and into my veins and Chief allowed me to sit up, holding me with one hand to keep me steady.

  “All done. How do you feel?” I told him truthfully that I’d never felt better in my life. I’d had no idea the true extent of my ailment, how close to Death I’d truly felt. “Good. I would like to say you are completely well again, but this is only a temporary measure. You will deteriorate. But slowly. I have done the best I could.”

  Standing, I felt a little wobbly, but I thanked Chief, shook his hand, and joined my companions. I still felt The Kid in the back of my brain, knew then that my Death was only being postponed.

  Journal of A.G.

  There was no sign of the Plague-bunnies. They were out there, somewhere. We all knew that. We waited for them all night, all day. Nothing. It was a thousand times worse than waiting for a bus that should have arrived half an hour ago, then being told by a passer-by that they’d gone on strike that day; we were possibly waiting for death to come for us.

  The day drew on, those of us that had waited through the night found somewhere nearby to rest, those that had been resting took over on the walls.

  The sole survivor of The Master’s scouting party had calmed down somewhat, I spent some time talking with her while I rested. She told me how they’d come, bursting out of the ground and leaping at people, tearing out throats and spreading carnage. She’d only survived because she’d shut herself in a car. Her companions had been devoured in seconds, their flesh torn apart by fluffy land-piranhas.

  The only indication that something had been about to happen was a drumming sound from under the ground, she told me. That was when she’d gone into a nearby car, one of the few that hadn’t been taken for use building The Rainbow Wall.

  Deathwish borrowed The Master’s radio, told The Queen what was going on here, rather what was not going on… He asked for reinforcements, since it was likely they’d have to go out and have a look, see what was happening, where the Plague-bunnies were, maybe even go rabbit-hunting. The Queen suggested evacuating all of the non-combatants to Adelaide, especially any kids or pregnant women. Why she didn’t just mention me by name I have no idea… Deathwish agreed, though, and we were all due to be shuffled off in a bus in the morning. Great.

  October 23rd Year 1 A.Z.

  morning

  We’d spent the night with The Mutators once again, which quite honestly, I had no objections towards; it was nice to get a decent feed again before heading back out into the wasteland that Australia had become. After some decent rest, I felt even better than last night. I had no idea what Chief had done to my blood, but I was certainly grateful. German Doctor was at a loss, too, as their medical techniques and technology were far beyond her understanding.

  Shortly after breakfast we made our way out through the enclosures containing various animal specimens, The Administrator and Chief joining us to say goodbye and see us on our way. I thanked them once more for their assistance, was told that they were happy to help in any way that they could and thanked for the sample that I’d contributed.

  We moved onwards, continuing north for the time being, planning to head to the west once we came to a road leading that way. Passing several abandoned military roadblocks and checkpoints, we searched for any remaining supplies that might have been left behind, finding very little except a couple of bottles of water, we decided to continue onwards.

  noon

  After a few hours we came to a crossroads, littered with debris from the massive traffic collision that had occurred there. Criss-Cross went from vehicle to vehicle, stabbing any Dead through their skulls with his arm-blades so that German Doctor and I could rummage through their stuff while The Kid kept watch, sitting cross-legged atop a bus and reaching out with his mind for any nearby Dead.

  Unfortunately, most of the food that these people had brought with them before dying had rotten away by this time, with the exception of a few chocolate bars and a single bag of chips. We’d prepared before leaving The Rangers, taking a hefty supply of Meat-Beast jerky along with us so it was not like we needed the supplies, but a bit of variety was still nice. At this point I’d have even been happy enough to supplement our dried mutant cow flesh with some of Deathwish’s endless supply of baked beans…

  With very little worth salvaging other than some fuel for the motorbike from the scene of the collision, we headed west along a narrow country road that signs assured us would eventually lead to Perth. At our current rate of travel, it’d take a few days to get there. I was okay with that, it gave us all some time to think and prepare.

  Everything that Survivor had told us about this cult had me more than a little concerned. They’d been the sort to want to sacrifice someone daily and often sent out cultists to gather prisoners for that very purpose. With luck they’d kept to their own side of the Swan River, and we’d be able to find some allies or at least some sympathetic ears on the northern side.

  evening

  We discovered an old truck-stop a few hours into our journey westward, decided that it would make a great place to spend the night. We were able to fill up the motorbike’s fuel tank, found a spare canister to fill with extra petrol and even found some canned food on the shelves. It seemed that few people came through this way. There were a few Dead to clear out, easily stunned by The Kid so the rest of us could do what we could to put them down, and there were signs that they’d tried to barricade the place.

  It looked to me as though someone had been bitten defending the truck-stop, maybe they’d not said anything about it, maybe they’d not known how things would turn out; either way things ended up going very badly for those defending the place.

  Even so, with The Kid taking a position on the roof for the night and Criss-Cross silently and swiftly patrolling the perimeter we were secure from both the Dead and the Living. German Doctor and I discussed the Mutators for a while, admiring their technology and wishing that we’d had access to a portable food panel, among other things.

  She wondered why they felt the need to mutate creatures into forms that were able to survive in the new world that the Apocalypse had turned into, suggesting that nature would perhaps be able to do a better job of it in time. My own thoughts were that time had been a factor; maybe they just wanted to speed the process up somewhat…

  In any event, they’d still created some nightmarish beasts that were perfectly suited to surviving the Apocalyptic wastelands that we travelled. If only they were less happy to resort to preying on humans… Regardless, I was glad we were heading west, rather than travelling to the north, knowing that they were changing crocodiles. They were already near-perfect engines of destruction, capable of killing full-grown cows easily. The razorbacks were a worry as well…

  Journal of A.G.

  They came during the night. The drumming reverberated throughout the structure of The Fortress, the vibrations setting everybody’s teeth on edge. The girl that had survived from the patrol a couple of days ago just sat there, weeping, as the drumming increased in volume.

  Those of us on the walls were unable to see any of the little bastards, learning soon enough that they were underground, burrowing their way through dirt and concrete as they burst up into the carpark surrounding The Fortress. Molotovs were thrown, the flame lighting up the night, casting eerie shadows that were only enhanced by the shrieking of flaming Plague-bunnies.

  The fire didn’t halt their approach. Hundreds of the
little fuckers swarmed The Fortress, leaping high enough to get onto the lower parts of the wall, some still on fire. One flaming ball of death flew directly at my face. The thunk that it created when impacting the cricket bat that I swung at it was satisfying, seeing the thing fly off into the greater mass of swarming death that approached was terrifying.

  Many other defenders were not as fortunate, nor as quick to react. A young man standing right next to me had a mutant rabbit attached to his throat that he pulled at, removing the Plague-bunny along with his wind-pipe. With his last strength he threw himself over the wall into the path of the oncoming rush of death, grabbing a flaming Molotov as he did so. I saw this repeated several times along the wall that I defended, including both of Deathwish’s Deputies.

  The Master ordered us inside, then lit up the exterior that he’d had soaked in flammable liquids during the day. The shrieking was almost unbearable, as was the fact that we’d left nearly a third of our defenders dead or dying out there before the order had been given. After a while the Plague-bunny shrieking ceased, along with the drumming. We’d either killed them all or they’d fled back underground. Either way, we could rest at last.

  October 24th Year 1 A.Z.

  morning

  Highway travel was now a lengthy and arduous procedure, not the simple and fast way between cities that it once was. Every now and then we’d come across a group of Dead that either required going around or, more often depending on the size of the group, The Kid would use his abilities to send them in a different direction. It was quicker than rushing into them and putting them down, but it still slowed our progress to a snail’s crawl.

  Any town that we came across required scouting before deciding if it was worth going straight through or avoiding. Any settlement of survivors we planned on making efforts to contact and ask permission to travel through, but most towns were either totally empty or full of the Dead. The former we’d spend some time looking through in case people fleeing forgot something interesting, the latter we’d just avoid, The Kid keeping the local Dead populace from noticing us with ease.