Apocalypse: Diary of a Survivor 4 (Apocalypse Survivors)

by Matt Pike

  I looked at the random bottle I had with me. "Gin."

  Sorry, Jonesy.

  "And more besides."

  They entered whispered conversation once more, before speaking. "Where are you from?"

  This was definitely a good line of questioning - more curiosity than conflict.

  "Erm, a lot of places, really. We've just had to relocate again. That's why we're here - supplies."

  "Answer the question," was the response.

  "Semaphore," I said, throwing them a few beach suburbs off the scent.

  They consulted again. "That is far."

  Their statement didn't move the conversation forward. It made me wonder if they were trying to stall before reinforcements arrived. Not sure who or what that was, I just knew a resolution made before that happened would be in our best interests. I figured I'd just throw everything on the table at that point. I had a brief look back to the shopping centre entrance - no sign of Jessie

  "And the stuff we need - it's random and probably useless to you. It's my travelling partner's birthday - he's 13. Just wanted to give him a bit of normal, by getting himself a present."

  They consulted each other, yet again, but didn't offer anything back. One of them turned around, just as I had. They were definitely stalling. For all I knew, 100 people could be heading to that corner. We wouldn't stand a chance if that went south.

  "He's been through a lot recently. We all have."

  Again nothing back.

  "We don't want a fight and are happy to trade."

  I waved the gin at them.

  Again they consulted without saying anything back. By that point I'd decided that if Jessie emerged before more aliens did, I was going to do a runner. I was looking around for him every 30 seconds or so. I'd also made sure I'd shuffled myself into a spot where I had my shoe pressed against the crossbow

  "Oh, and I was hoping for some condiments."

  Nothing.

  "You know, sauces and stuff."

  They talked to each other again, but still left me hanging. I could feel myself getting desperate now.

  "We have the same thing every day. It's doing my head in."

  It was as I said, "There's only so many ways you can cook fish," that another three aliens walked into view. Then another group. Then another. Then more again. There must've been at least 40 of them by the time they were done. A number were holding cricket bats and various pieces of reconfigured gardening implements that made me shudder at the thought of them being used on me. I could also see a couple of bows. Still, no visible sign of a gun, which was cold comfort at the serious outnumbering I faced.

  Sure, I could have dropped a handful of them if they decided to charge at me. But there was no way I was getting out in a good way if things turned south. I cursed my stupidity at the risks I’d taken. I cursed with far worse words when I thought of poor Jessie.

  A group of four, led by the short one who’d left, approached the two who I'd been chatting with. They talked for a while, before the four started walking in my direction.

  I decided to unwrap the scarf over my mouth and remove my hood from my head. I wanted to show I had nothing to hide and that I was young - the last tricks I had to put them at ease.

  There were a number of nervous looks back for Jessie as the group neared. Thankfully, the larger group remained further back.

  There were two rather large men flanking an older man and woman. When they were within a handful of metres, I gave my poker face away and shot a glance down to the crossbow.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said the lady.

  Her voice was older.

  I held my hand out as an apology and took a step back.

  She reached up and rolled the balaclava from her face and gave me a warm smile. “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “How does a 17 year old happen across a hovercraft?”

  “I… I made it.”

  “You don’t say,” she said, as she reached me. She looked at the man and they shared a nod. Then she gave a look to the two silent bodyguards. “Impressive.”

  Something about the way she said it made me see the politics that may have been going on. It suggested she was going to get to know me and potentially come to some sort of arrangement, a plan perhaps not all the others were in agreement with. Thankfully, it looked like she was the boss.

  “Yeah, we have a number of them, but that is the original. It’s been with me since the early days after rock night.”

  “Hmmmm,” she said in thought, before holding out her hand. “I’m Maria.”

  We shook hands. “Jack.”

  The older man introduced himself. His name was Jimmy. Certainly not much of a talker, but you could tell he was analysing every single moment that played out. I think he was indigenous. If he was, it certainly explained that air of quiet leadership an elder might have.

  “So, my people tell me you’d like to make a trade?” said Maria.

  “Well, yes. We’re not taking much, honestly. The kid I’m travelling with is just getting himself some birthday presents and I’m hoping for some condiments to make my food a little more pleasant.”

  She studied me without words. What is it with the aliens and not knowing when it’s their cue to talk?

  “So, anyway, I was figuring a trade for some alcohol might be fair.”

  “Hmmmm,” she said, before a pause. “And you’ve come all the way from Semaphore?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “What’s at Semaphore?”

  “Not much, really. Just us and fish.”

  She nodded, then turned her attention to the hovercraft. “May I?”

  Not an ideal turn of events, but I did have an ace up my sleeve - enough bullets to deal with four if worst came to worst and now even more distance to the pack.

  She and Jimmy walked at my side as we headed to Phoenix. I could sense the other two breathing down my neck. My crossbow and Jonesy’s gin were left in our wake.

  Once at the hovercraft, I showed her through the key features. Poor Phoenix looked beaten up these days. Each scrape, dodgy repair or gaffer tape cover-up acted as a badge of honour for one mishap or another in the call of duty.

  “And you made this yourself?” she asked once I was done.

  “Yeah.”

  Things were shaping to a point now. She made her thinking noise again, as if deciding her next move on the fly. I’d at least managed to get myself a bit of distance from her goons, enough to draw and fire if things went that way. I remember feeling that was a less likely scenario at that moment, until she spoke.

  “And do you often use it to raid other people’s turf?”

  Her question threw me and my expectation. I looked at the goons, waiting for a response. They didn’t move, just stared through their face coverings.

  “Well, not often. I’ve spent far more time defending turf from others.”

  “At… Semaphore?”

  “We were in the city, until recently.”

  She made the thinking noise again, then looked at the goons. She made her way to Phoenix and circled her. She looked up, eventually. “I’m a bit partial to a shiraz. I know Jimmy likes his rum, but not half as much as these two their scotch.”

  I made my way over and fished through the stash until I found a carton filled with at least some reds labelled as shiraz. Then I pulled out a couple of bottles of scotch and some rum and handed them over.

  “You got any beer in there?”

  “No, unfortunately.”

  “Very well. You have your deal.”

  I must’ve let all the built-up stress out in one epic breath, because she laughed.

  Then she said. “You won’t have any luck on the food front, though. Anything worth taking from Woolies was taken months ago.”

  Now, I’m not saying this news was worse than finding yourself outnumbered on enemy territory 40-odd people to one, but no condiments came close. Again, my poker face failed on me.

/>   “We could… always make a trade,” she said.

  I just looked at her. My turn to drop the conversation ball.

  “What say, a supply of fish for this lot, in exchange for some condiments?”

  “Seems fair. We could arrange that.”

  “Excellent, bring some more wine, we might even feed you. Would love to hear your stories about the city and Semaphore.”

  Suddenly this had turned super friendly and I was still two conversations earlier. Actually, I don’t really know where I was, but clearly looking a little stupefied.

  “Well?” she said eventually.

  “Erm, yes, what time?”

  “Something like this will be fine. Make a lunch of it.”

  “OK,” I said. I was now officially feeling I’d lost all my post-rock survival cool in one conversation. “Where do I go?”

  “Don’t worry about that, we’ll hear you coming.”

  With that, they left. They carried on right past my crossbow and the gin, back to their group and out of sight.

  It was all too much to process. I was just starting to as I walked back over to collect my weapon, when Jessie finally emerged from Big W. He was carrying a couple of large bags.

  I sighed as I looked at his face. He was totally oblivious to what had just happened. It soon turned into a smile though, as I could see the distinct spring in his step and smile on his face.

  I asked him what he’d gotten. He’d scored himself a bunch of books, including the Harry Potter series - his favourites. He’d also nabbed a sleeping bag to make his nights more comfortable, a cricket bat, some stumps and some tennis balls to play beach cricket, as well as a football and a Power guernsey. I tried not to judge him too harshly on the last item.

  He was genuinely excited by his stash. I was pretty pleased with what he’d chosen, too. I gave him some grief over the team he supported, but promised him a few kicks of the footy when we got back to camp. It would be good to do something away-from-the-apocalypse normal.

  We loaded up Phoenix. Before we left, I asked him how long it would take to go back in and grab some more sleeping bags, and could he get 12 more in one trip. He decided it would only take him a couple of minutes now he knew where everything was and he could manage in one trip. So, that’s what he did.

  We were soon on our way home. Jessie had his head back in my diary, which I took as a big compliment given he now had other tempting options. He looked a whole different kid compared to this morning. Hopefully, our big day and a little shopping spree helped, not only to get him through this day, but to set him up better for the difficult ones ahead.

  It certainly gave me a sense of satisfaction, watching him pore through the pages of my journal. Every now and then he’d read something, then stop and ask me if it was true, or what was it like, and we’d have a little chat about some part of my history. He could see he wasn’t too far from me and that was nice.

  That aside, I was left to my thoughts around the day’s events. This world grows more complicated with every new discovery. This new life we’ve sought by the sea is already connecting us to other groups inland more than ever happened when we were there. As to whether those are good or bad connections, only time will tell. I have positive vibes about the Goodwood aliens, as long as Maria and Jimmy are in charge, and I still think it’s Kent we’re talking to in the city. If those two things turn out to be true, well, anything’s possible. That’s a big if though, and perhaps I should just be grateful to be alive another day. I looked at Jessie and knew I was.

  *

  Side note: All the dialogue above is from memory. I know there’s a couple of things I missed and probably more than a little paraphrasing, but I think it’s pretty accurate. In fact, I’ve developed that into quite a skill since rock night - conversation recall. I have amazed myself with how clearly I can remember what transpired. Unless it’s a long conversation, I can pretty much remember it sentence for sentence.

  Pre-rock me would have had no chance at doing this at all - none. I don’t know if it’s the lack of distractions or the lack of conversations, well, communication in general, or even the fact that my life pretty much relies on me paying attention to the details. It’s probably a combination of all three. Anyway, I’m pretty impressed with my new superpower.

  *

  Back at camp word had already spread about the message and, like always, everyone had their take on whether this was a set-up or genuine. I decided to keep my Goodwood story until after the work was done for the day and we were all sitting down to dinner.

  All up, they cleared another four dunes today. We reckoned we now had enough materials to the structure. So, between that and the epic booze stash we’d acquired, there was much to celebrate.

  Before we did sit down to dinner, Alyce and I hit the beach with Jessie to kick the footy around. He wore his new Power strip with pride and we had what was probably my first simple, innocent laugh on the beach since the day we’d arrived. It didn’t take long for a bunch of others to join us. Many having already enjoyed a post-work drink or two.

  Even Jonesy hobbled down to watch, with Steph’s help. He had his new peg leg on and I think this was the first meaningful test walk. He watched us with a gin in his hand. Well, when I say watched us, it was a mix between laughing at some of the less skilled moments, barking out instructions like he was coaching, then berating us for rubbing in his one-leg status by playing his favourite game in front of him. It was all done in typical Jonesy style. So, mostly humorous but with an undertone of never totally knowing what was a joke and what was a comically peppered vent of truth. Still, he was back.

  Before the lure of food got too much to ignore, Kelly joined him on the sidelines. She was walking under her own steam now, which gave me as much pleasure as seeing Jonesy up and about. Between the pair of them and Jessie, you couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

  Alyce was surprising skillful with the football. I never knew she played. Perhaps I didn’t know as much about her pre-rock as I’d thought. Anyway, it all led to me making a total fool of myself. When she first grabbed the footy to kick it, I asked her if she wanted me to come a little closer, thinking there’s no way she’d make the distance. She just glared at me. Then I compounded the problem by giving her a couple of very basic instructions on how to kick, before she shut me up by drilling a stab pass right into my chest from 35m away.

  Lucky for me, I caught the ball. Not sure I can say the same with my pride.

  Jessie laughed. Then Alyce started giving me some patronising instructions as I was about to kick it back to her. Well played, Alyce, well played.

  I’m just thankful the humiliation happened before the others were there to see it.

  It was a real positive moment for us and our new home. The irony wasn’t lost on me that after having all that time at the oval - the home of football in this state - we’d never had a moment of bonding over kicking the football like we did then. Funny how things work sometimes.

  *

  At dinner, I let the oval conversation run its course before I brought up my close encounter. It just seemed right not to complicate things any further during the discussion. Besides, there was no way we were going to reach any insightful conclusions without knowing more information.

  Hindsight is a wonderful judgement tool and I copped a fair bit of that after explaining what happened when Jessie got his presents today. I wasn’t even sure how to take it, mostly because I knew they were right. It was too risky and perhaps a little stupid. I think everyone’s nice new sleeping bag and fresh memories of footy on the beach softened the blow.

  So did making contact with another crew. That was huge news. Not only that it was peaceful and seemingly positive, but that it had opened the door to a potential trade. Without jumping ahead too far, there was a lot to like about where that could lead.

  Discussion turned to who should accompany me on the trip tomorrow, how many fish we should take and what other possible things we could seek to trade wi
th them if this first trip was successful.

  Soon, plans turned to construction of the shelter. It had taken more shape over the course of the day and with the extra mortar supplies Ye-jun and Steph had gathered. We reckoned the bulk of the work could be completed during the next two days.

  That would put us in such a good position. Not only would we all get the space we needed, it would free up the bulk of the days around camp. That meant we could start to turn our attention to the boats - both setting up the fishing boat to extend our reach and catch, as well as start the mammoth task of clearing out the ash around the frigate.

  Both of those tasks have their own exciting and unknown futures. Just finding ourselves in a spot to be able to dream about them is exciting. Knowing the day will soon be here when we find out is almost reason alone to start to fall in love with this place in an entirely new way.

  Once the conversation was exhausted, Nate took a few others down to the beach for fishing. Jessie went with them. Jonesy stayed around the fire with another group, enjoying his gin and new mobility, while Alyce and I drifted off to find some alone time.

  Love and possibilities - a good way to end the day.

  I thanked her for not telling the footy story to anyone at dinner as we walked away from the group, only to hear Jessie down at the beach yell out, “Hey, you’ll never guess what happened today with Alyce and Jack when they were kicking the footy!”

  I sighed, defeated, then we both laughed.

  She makes me laugh, Alyce. Smart and funny is a sexy combination. I feel I don’t say it in these pages as much as I should, because every time I get to spend some alone time with her, I’m just too wrapped up in getting that little taste of home, that I’m not sure I always put down in words the why.

  Obviously, our connection that stretches back to pre-rock times is something strong in this world - and rare. We are just made from the same experiences, both before and after rock night. That is definitely a big part of the glue in our bond.

  Beyond that is a smart, funny, caring survivor who I share my entire being with. It’s a priceless connection that keeps me strong through everything and I am eternally grateful for it.