by M C Rooney
“You gonna fight him, Ozzie?” one of his warriors asked.
“Are you?” he asked back.
“No.”
“Me neither,” Ozzie muttered in return.
“What are those?” someone suddenly cried out, and Ozzie could see four black furry things running towards them with their tongues hanging out. Then they began to circle around them, making a sort of growling noise.
“Defensive positions,” Ozzie ordered.
Everybody gathered in a circle.
“Kill them,” he ordered.
But before they could act, at least twelve arrows plunged into his men. Six men immediately fell down dead and some others started screaming.
Those things were herding his men into a tighter group, he now realised.
They now numbered thirteen.
Kirstin gave a shrill whistle, and her dogs turned around and ran back towards her. Just in time, she thought, as some of those men were about to feather her beloved pooches.
“Our turn,” Hussein called out as he joined her. He looked angry—or was he smiling? It was hard to tell.
“Now stay there, my little babies,” Kirstin commanded her dogs. “Mummy has to teach some stupid cocksuckers a lesson.”
Hussein looked at her in shock, again. He just couldn’t equate such a pretty face with her potty mouth.
“Ready, Davo?” she said, smiling at him.
“Yes, Kirstin.” He nodded meekly.
And as she rode off with her partner, the dogs lay down, panting, and waited for their mistress to return.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” one of the warriors cried out, an arrow embedded in his shoulder.
“Do something, you dumb prick!” another shouted.
Ozzie turned around and looked at that man shouting and wondered who he was talking to. Then he realised it was him.
“Yes, I’m talking to you, you stupid cunt,” the man said.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” Ozzie shouted back. “I’m a Martin, and you will do—”
“You’re a dead Martin, like your fucking brothers,” the man growled at him, and as he was reaching for his knife to stab him, he suddenly stopped and looked to his right.
Ozzie also looked to the right in amazement as he saw two human beings come charging towards them riding some sort of huge beasts. What were those things?
“Fuck me, they have bows,” someone said.
“A different angle.”
“They’re moving too fast.”
“They’re on us.”
What was happening? Ozzie thought in a panic as two men fell down dead with arrows in their chests.
“I’m leaving!” someone yelled out, and Ozzie saw one of his men running back the way they had come from. He fell down dead with an arrow in his chest as well.
“There’s someone behind us,” someone said.
“No kidding.”
“We are fucked.”
“They’re coming again.”
Two more men fell down dead.
There were now only eight.
Sam had been watching the battle from a dip in the terrain. He watched as Hockey butchered three men and terrorised those who remained. He then saw Kirstin’s dogs herd those men into a tighter formation and wondered whether those dogs could help the farmers back home with their sheep. Nobody had done that before, he was sure. The people at home would think he was a genius or something when he told them.
He then feathered one of the men who had made a run for it and saw the Martins were down to about ten men. That’s one; he thought and then started thinking about his brother Alex and how he was doing in the battle.
He watched as Bartel and Hussein rode their horses at full speed and fired arrows into the bunched men. Some of Martin’s men tried to fire arrows back, but Dave and Kirstin were moving way too fast for them to get a good shot.
“That’s amazing,” he murmured to himself, as he watched their bow skills and horsemanship. He suddenly realised that when his brother Alex was not around Kirstin had become just another girl and he felt nothing romantic about her at all. He really needed to stop competing with his brother all the time.
His very next thought was that he hoped Alex hadn’t killed more men than he had.
Hockey ran back to his companions at the cart, as none of Martin’s cowards would take him on, and he gave his youngest daughter, Danni, a big hug.
“Nice running, Daughter,” he said.
“Nice axe work, Dad,” she replied grinning.
He was enjoying this hugging his daughters business. He should have done this a long time ago.
“Wish I had a hand grenade,” Cheng said. “It would be very handy right now.”
“Did you ever own a hand grenade?” asked Carter.
“No, but it still would be very handy right now.”
“A handy hand grenade,” Ian said, scratching his head.
“Why did you leave your shotgun behind?”
“I’m not sure now,” Cheng replied. “But I am regretting it.”
“Shot … gun.” Ian was still scratching his head.
“What should we do?” asked Veronica anxiously. “We can’t just let them go.”
“The riders have them boxed in,” said Hockey, “but it can’t last forever.”
“They will come after us,” said Alex.
“We have to finish them,” Flynn added.
“They know where we are headed,” said Kerri.
Carter looked around at his friends. “Let’s finish it,” he said, and all the fighters ran off and began to encircle the Martin men.
Ozzie crouched down and watched as the beasts circled around what was left of his men.
“What do we do?” one of his men asked.
“Make a decision, for fuck’s sake,” one of the wounded men cried out to him.
Ozzie had thought he was as good a leader as his brother Glen. He wasn’t. He was in this position because of who his father was, not because he was anything special.
He brushed his hair from his eyes. “Two choices,” he said and sighed, “we either make a break for it as a group or run individually in numerous directions.”
The men looked at each other for a moment, but the decision was taken away from them when another volley of arrows fell amongst them. One man fell with an arrow in his throat.
“Run!” someone cried out. Someone else screamed out in pain.
And Ozzie did run; he didn’t know in what direction, but he ran for his life. The field was huge. He felt like he would have to run for an hour to reach the tree line, but run he did.
“No you don’t,” someone said as he felt an arrow enter his back.
Ozzie Martin fell to the ground for the last time. He looked upwards towards the sky and saw a shadow standing over him.
“Sorry, mate,” the shadow said as it leant down and stabbed him through the heart.
“And MK strikes again!” Alex yelled out as he raised his hands in the air.
Bloody hell, Flynn thought as he stood over Ozzie’s body, I should have never told them about Shane and Junior.
“What happened?” Ian said as he ran up to his friends and looked at the dead body. “Oh my, MK, how do you do it?”
Flynn sighed.
“He’s a legend, that’s what he is,” Alex said, laughing.
“Three dead Martin brothers,” Ian said in awe.
“And there are two left,” Alex replied.
“But I didn’t kill Glen,” Flynn said despairingly.
“Ah, but you were there when it happened.” Alex laughed some more.
“Oh my, he was too,” Ian said excitedly. “So when are you going to kill Brad and Jonas, MK?”
Flynn sighed again.
“No, my friend,” Alex said to Ian “never try to guess the plans of the mighty MK.”
“He’s mysterious,” Ian replied.
“Don’t you think you two better go check to see whether Sam is still alive?” Flynn
said hopefully.
“Shit,” Alex said and started heading south.
“See ya, MK,” Ian said as he ran after Alex.
Flynn sighed in relief this time.
Hockey stood at the cart and watched as his fighters and all the animals returned. He looked around at all the children standing close to their mothers and fathers and realised he had twelve grandchildren now. He really had to get to know them all. The eldest, Darren, seemed to be growing into a good young lad.
“Is that everybody?” Veronica asked as she stood by his side counting the number of people that had returned. Hockey had finally managed to tell her of Rodent’s death and she had taken the news of her eldest son’s fate bravely as he had expected.
“I think so,” Hockey said as he looked at his wife.
Her hair was grey now, and her face was wrinkled, but she still had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, and her eyes had not changed since she was a teenager at their high school. She still also had …
Veronica noticed that Maurice’s gaze had gone from her face and moved down her body.
“Really, Maurice?” she said in a breathless voice. “After all this time?”
“Always,” he replied with a steady look.
“We are sixty-five years of age.”
“So?” he replied in confusion.
So indeed, she thought as she tried to control her breathing.
“Did any escape?” Carter called out.
“No,” Sam called back. “I had a good view there, and I don’t think anybody did.”
“I’ve counted twenty-two bodies,” Cheng said as he adjusted his fur hat.
“You didn’t need a hand grenade, then?” Carter asked.
“Nah, mate,” Cheng replied with a grin.
“A handy hand grenade,” Ian said, scratching his head again.
“It doesn’t matter if someone escaped,” Sam said in a loud voice. “MK would have tracked them down.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Flynn sighed.
“Who is MK?” Kirstin asked.
“Is it something I should need to tell the mayor about?” asked Hussein.
“Sounds like a gun,” said Cheng.
“Oh, didn’t you know?” Alex enquired.
“No,” Kirstin replied.
“Flynn is our clan’s secret assassin, who goes by the codename of MK,” Sam announced.
“Really, Flynn?” Danni said in surprise. “I didn’t know your nickname was MK.”
“It is not,” Flynn cried out with his arms stretched wide.
“It is,” Ian said seriously.
And as they walked towards safety with their dogs and horses and arguing about whether the hero MK actually existed or not, an old married couple stayed where they were and started making out like teenagers. They were sixty-five years of age and were expected to act more maturely. But really, forget about that stereotype; they loved each other, and you have to live while you still can.
Six Months Later, Hopetown, West Coast Tasmania
Hopetown was the new name for the township by the coast. Once the pale zombies had been cleared, along with the rare and very wiry red ones, people had proclaimed this town a new beginning for a new world.
Edwin ‘Buzz’ Roberts sat underneath the three-metre mini-tower and tried to make some sense out of the schematics to build a copy of the giant tower that stood in the midlands. He was starting to regret having the nickname Buzz, as the buzzing sound that was coming from on top of the mini-tower was beginning to drive him crazy. It sounded like a hive of bees, and if you touched the thin, jagged streams of light that were sent out into the air you probably would be instantly killed, or at the very least need your heart restarted. CPR it was called, he had read about it on the Professor’s disk he had given him. Not only did the disk provide him with information on the tower, it gave him the history of the world almost. Everything was in there, from science to the arts, history to psychology. Who would have thought that so much information could be stored on such a small object?
All around him people sat on the ground next to old computers and printers and watched as the knowledge from the disk was printed out on clean sheets of paper. The mini-tower was powering all the electrical equipment within a hundred-metre radius. Wires and sockets were not required. The blank paper, however, was not endless, so Buzz had to find some way of making more. This was just part of the endless problems he faced.
“You looked a bit stressed, mate,” a familiar voice said.
“Yes, I am a bit,” Buzz replied to the smiling face of John Carter.
John Carter had walked up to Buzz, but as was required, he had to duck down and crawl on his knees the last few metres. “You look like a bunch of public servants,” he said as he finally sat next to him.
“Public what?” asked Buzz.
“Doesn’t matter.” John grinned and looked around him. “It’s weird how this small tower lights up houses within a small distance, and then it is pitch-black beyond it.”
“Yes, I know,” Buzz replied, “but we hope to have the others working within a week. It should cover the whole town then.”
“That’s brilliant, Buzz,” John replied, smiling. “You have done so well.”
“Well, with the Professor’s help, of course,” Buzz said with a small blush. “We still have too many people living in tents for my liking, though,” he finished as he also looked around the town.
“Yes, unfortunately, two thousand doesn’t go into eight hundred,” John replied, “no matter how many people you jam into one house.”
“We will learn to build,” Buzz said stubbornly.
“My sons have actually moved into my old house,” John said in disbelief. “It was very dusty, and it needed some repairs, but they are sleeping where me and my parents used to sleep.”
“That must be very comforting, and also a little strange.”
Buzz had a small house on his own. A flat his father had called it, which was a quite bizarre description, and said maybe as chief he should live in a bigger house. But Buzz had found it cozy and warm, and the beds … the beds were just so comfortable.
“Yes,” John replied. “That is exactly how I feel. So many ghosts,” he murmured to himself as he looked around.
Buzz never thought about how distressing returning here would be for the older folk. For him, it was a pilgrimage of a sort; for the elders, it must be like walking back into a nightmare.
“I see you have one of the puppies?” Buzz asked in the hope of changing the subject.
Sam, Alex, and Ian had found that term incredibly funny. Puppies and pussies they had chuckled to themselves for about an hour.
“Yes, indeed I have.” A broad grin covered John’s face. The puppy dog was kept underneath his jacket, but its little head was sticking out from just below John’s neck. But like his parents, that dog would be huge within a few months. Kirstin’s own dogs had quickly bred many litters of little dogs, and at the moment, about thirty-six puppies were now being well loved and cared for by the various families in the community. The fuss people had put up when the dogs could not be given to all families in Hopetown was incredible. Kids were crying, parents were swearing. It was the only time Buzz had to put his foot down and quell the anger of his tribe.
“In a year or so, everybody who wants a dog will have one I think,” Buzz now said.
“Yes, Kirstin will return soon with different breeds,” John said, “just to make sure the bloodline doesn’t become too scary, she said.”
“Sam believes they could make good sheepdogs,” Buzz replied.
“Yes, he does.” John laughed.
Sam thought he may have been a genius for noticing the dogs’ herding skills, but anybody who remembered the days before the Collapse had chuckled quite loudly when he said that.
“I hear Hussein has promised to return as well with more books and a small herd of horses for breeding.”
“Yes, he has,” Buzz replied. But to be honest, the
size of those animals made him uncomfortable. Hussein had helped Buzz mount his horse, and he almost felt dizzy as to how high he sat. The way they rode and fired arrows at the same time was truly a wonder to watch. How they maintained their balance and accuracy was beyond him. But Hussein had made another promise of returning himself or sending someone to train young men and women to fight like that. “I thought you may have followed my father farther to the north?” Buzz asked.
Hockey and most of his family and about two hundred people, mostly elderly, had quickly moved back to the bushland. He said he didn’t want to interfere with Buzz’s authority with the tribe. But Buzz knew he enjoyed the lack of responsibility and just wanted to spend time with his wife, children, and grandchildren. His father had told him that he loved him for the first time in his life. It was all very strange how much his father had changed. He had actually cried when he saw his old school and mentioned his little sister’s name over and over again. But it was a change that warmed his heart when he saw his mother and father looking at each other with so much love in their eyes.
“Oh, I will follow soon, I think,” John replied.
“Disappear like Craig Cheng?” Buzz asked. Craig had quickly gone back to his hut in the woods; he said he missed the peace and quiet and had to go back and check on his pussy, which sent Sam, Ian, and Alex into fits of laughter again.
“Yes, but maybe not as quickly as Craig,” John replied. “I just want to see what will happen here first.”
“You mean with the big tower?” Buzz asked. “That will take years, maybe decades.”
“No, not the tower,” John replied, and he scratched his puppy behind the ears. “The changes in the tribe.”
Buzz looked around at all the fully clothed men walking the streets doing their daily chores. Not many weapons were carried now; sure they would keep their weapons at home and for when they went hunting, but there seemed to be a more peaceful feeling to his community. Maybe it was the sound of the ocean that was causing the peace, or the fishing people did at the nearby dock. Or maybe it was the general reduction of fear in people’s own mindset that led to a reduction in violence. Buzz wasn’t really sure, but he felt the change was all for the better.