by Wilde, J. M.
Chapter Eight
I watched from the window as the cracked earth of the outback turned into murky swampland, followed by the fullness of the rainforest. We were driving down a narrow, twisting road, the sun drowned out by the giant trees.
Everything seemed much spookier under the shade of the forest. Mist cloaked the rainforest floor while vines and branches intertwined to create ghostly shadows all around us.
To our right, a river trailed alongside the road, the muddy water stagnant and stale.
“We’re so close,” Wyatt said, a smile forming on his tired face. “We’ll be there by this afternoon.”
My impatience grew with every kilometer we gained. I just wanted to get to Elliot’s house. I couldn’t wait to be out of the RV, to finally be able to take a deep breath without worrying if it would be my last. I hadn’t even thought about what we would do once we got there, how we would live our lives. But I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel safe again.
We turned a sharp corner and came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road.
“Shit!” Ben said, smacking his fist down on the dashboard.
I leaned out of my seat to peer out the front windshield. We had reached a narrow bridge crossing the river into a small town, but it looked as though even such a tiny place in the middle of nowhere hadn’t been spared of the virus. Four cars had slammed into the back of each other on their way out of town, blocking the bridge, and a boat had crashed into the middle pillar, creating a heavy slant on one side.
“We have to find another way,” Ben said.
Wyatt shook his head. “We can’t. If we go back now that’ll add another day of driving, and we’re running low on petrol as it is.”
“So what do we do?” Jo asked.
“We have to move the cars off the bridge,” I said. “It’s the only way.”
“Yep,” Wyatt agreed. “We’ll take one each and move them. The boat seems to be holding the weight of the right side of the bridge; if we go slow we can drive the RV over.”
Wyatt put the motorhome in reverse and moved it off the road to make room for the cars to come across. We grabbed our weapons and got out of the RV, leaving Hunter inside so there was no risk of running him over.
The silence was eerie as we walked towards the bridge, and it was only amplified by the dark shadows cast by the thick rainforest surrounding us. My eyes darted every which way, scanning for movement on the bridge or between the trees. I held my axe so tight my fingers had started to ache, but I couldn’t let my guard down for a moment.
As we neared the first car, I could see blood spattered on the windows and seats.
“Be careful, guys,” I said. “Make sure there aren’t any zombies in the cars.” We each claimed a car and started inspecting it.
Jo pointed to a yellow sign poking out from under the first car, a white minivan. “What’s that say?” It was bent out of shape from being knocked over by the van, but I could still make out the first word: DANGER.
We walked over to investigate and froze in fright as we read what it said.
DANGER: Crocodiles.
Stay in vehicle.
“Crocodiles!” Jo whimpered.
My chest tightened in fear, knowing we stood a better chance against zombies than crocodiles. All my instincts told me to run as fast as I could back to the RV, but I knew I had to keep going. I had to push through the fear.
“Quick,” I said as I started jogging over the bridge. “Get in the cars.”
Wyatt climbed into the minivan, followed by Ben in the small green Kia behind, then Jo in a brown station wagon. I headed towards the black four-wheel drive on the other side of the bridge, carefully stepping over devoured body parts along the way.
The driver’s side door was open, with a woman’s body slumped halfway out of the car, still wearing a seatbelt. Her arms had been completely torn off and her legs eaten. A bullet hole peaked out from under the fringe of her hair, right between the eyes. I hoped that whoever shot her had done it before zombies tore into her, and not after she had already been gorged on and turned. I pushed the image of her limbs being torn off and eaten while she was still alive out of my head. Trying carefully not to touch her, I pressed the seatbelt buckle in and jumped out of the way as her remains crumbled out of the car and onto the road in a thud.
Wyatt had already started driving the van off of the bridge, so after a quick check of the backseat for zombies, I climbed in and slammed the door shut before starting the engine.
I stared straight ahead, careful not to look at the river below out of fear of seeing hungry reptilian eyes watching me eagerly. Ben had begun moving off the bridge, and Jo was waiting in front of me.
As I waited to move up the bridge, I saw something moving in the back of Jo’s station wagon. A head rose up from underneath a blanket, its dead eyes looking straight at me before turning around towards Jo, who had no idea a zombie was crawling up behind her.
“Jo!” I called, but I was too far away for her to hear. I slammed my palms onto the horn again and again, but it didn’t work. It must have disconnected in the accident. Without thinking, I put my foot down hard, slamming into the back of Jo’s car.
She turned around, her expression quickly changing from anger to terror when she saw the zombie reaching its mangled arms out to grab her.
I heard a scream as the car door swung open and Jo fell out onto her back, scrambling away from the car as the zombie started climbing into the front seat. She was so focussed on getting away from the zombie that she didn’t realise she was teetering towards the edge of the bridge.
“Jo! Look out!” I yelled as I jumped out of the car, but it was too late. I watched in horror as she disappeared over the bridge and into the crocodile-infested water below.
Chapter Nine
“Jo!” I screamed. Panic washed over me as I stood on the bridge. I knew I had to run over to where Jo fell, but my legs refused to move. I was terrified to look over the edge, because then it would be real. Jo would be gone. As long as I stood in that spot, I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of losing my best friend.
“Jo!” Ben called from the other side of the bridge. His yelling sparked movement within me, and I felt my legs carrying me towards the edge, climbing over the bonnet of the four-wheel drive that I had slammed into the back of the station wagon only seconds before.
I skidded to my knees and peered over the edge, bracing myself for what I might see. I gasped. “Jo?” She had landed on the bow of the boat, but she wasn’t moving.
A loud screech from behind made me jump to my feet. I spun around to see the zombie trying to crawl out of the station wagon, its eyes locked on me. I searched for my axe, only to remember it was still sitting in the four-wheel drive.
I reached over and grabbed the car door, slamming it against the zombie’s head again and again, until it was just a crumbling, bloody stump.
I turned my attention back to Jo just as Wyatt and Ben appeared, sighing in relief when they realised that Jo hadn’t fallen into the river.
“Jo!” I called, tears filling my eyes. “Try to wake her up,” I said to Ben as I sprung to my feet. “I’ll get some rope.” I bolted back to the RV, my determination to save Jo drowning out any fear. Once inside, I rummaged through my backpack and pulled the rope out of my bag, swung it over my shoulder and sped back to Wyatt and Ben, being sure to keep Hunter shut safely inside. Crocodiles could snatch him up in a second if he got out.
I heard Jo’s voice as I approached the bridge, and my hope grew knowing that she had regained consciousness. “Is she okay?” I called as I tied the rope to the barrier on the opposite side of the bridge; I didn’t want to risk putting too much pressure on the already weakened side.
“I think so,” Ben said. “But we gotta hurry. She’s panicking.”
I made sure the rope was tight enough before running over to the edge and throwing it down to Jo. “Tie it around your waist and we’ll pull you up!”
Jo stood up and g
rabbed hold of the rope, careful to keep her balance so she didn’t fall into the river. Her hands shook as she tried to tie the rope around her, causing her to drop it more than once.
“C’mon, Jo!” I called. Wyatt and Ben stood behind me holding the rope, ready to pull.
“I can’t!” she cried. “My hands are shaking too much!”
“It’s okay,” I called. “You can do it!”
I noticed writing on the side of the boat that said ‘Crocodile River Tours’. I scanned the water, but I knew if there were any crocodiles in there we wouldn’t see them until it was too late.
Then, in the corner of my eye, I saw movement. But it wasn’t in the water.
It was in the boat.
My gaze shot up to see a zombie emerge from the cabin of the boat. He was wearing a headset and microphone; the tour guide for the river boat.
“Jo,” I called, trying to hide the terror in my voice. “You need to hurry.” I didn’t know whether telling her about the zombie would make her move faster or frighten her so much that she fell in. Before I had a chance to decide, the zombie let out a quiet groan, but it echoed through his microphone and through the speakers on the boat.
Jo screamed in fright as she spun around to face him.
“Hurry!” I yelled, grabbing a tighter hold of the rope. She finally looped the rope around her waist and within seconds we were pulling her up.
I stood up to get a firmer grip but was pulled forward as the weight suddenly became heavier. I leaned over to see the zombie hanging on to Jo’s legs, her frantic kicking the only thing stopping it from sinking its teeth into her flesh.
“What is it?” Wyatt asked when he saw the terror on my face.
“A zombie! It’s on her!” I said, tugging on the rope with all my might.
Jo screamed and I peered further over the edge to see a crocodile peeking out from the water.
“Quick! Pull!” I yelled, but the crocodile had already leapt out of the water. Its razor sharp teeth locked on to the zombie’s waist, pulling it off of Jo and down into the river, creating a whirlpool of mud and blood as it thrashed around violently. The strength of its pull caused us to stumble forward, leaving Jo dangling dangerously close to the water.
Using all our strength, we hauled Jo up higher and higher until I saw her hand reach up and grab hold of the edge.
“We got this,” Ben said. “Help her up.”
I let go of the rope and grabbed onto Jo’s wrists, dragging her onto the bridge and out of danger. She wrapped her arms around me, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.
Ben was on his knees next to me as soon as she was safe, checking her for bites or wounds. The moment she let go of me, he was hugging her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded her head, but the tears welling in her eyes told a different story. He held her tight as she cried in his arms. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he whispered.
Wyatt helped me to my feet, and I realised that I, too, was shaking. “C’mon,” I said to him after we had untied the rope. “Let’s move these last two cars so we can get out of here.”
As I walked back to the four-wheel drive, I tried not to think of how close I just came to losing my best friend.
Chapter Ten
Once all the cars were off the bridge and out of our way, we climbed back into the RV. I sat in the passenger’s seat next to Wyatt so that Ben could stay with Jo in the cabin. She was still very shaken up and Ben was the only one who seemed to calm her down.
The RV edged gently onto the bridge, every creak of the crooked wood making me more and more tense. I peered down over the river as we slowly made our way across, seeing three crocodiles rise above the water. Their leathery scales and watchful eyes made me feel sick to my stomach.
After an anxiety riddled few minutes, the tyres of the RV finally rolled over the last plank of wood and back onto the safety of the road. We all let out long sighs, as though none of us had dared even breathe the entire way over.
Driving through the small country town, we saw scenes we had become all too familiar with. Corpses, rotting limbs and signs of anarchy filled the streets. I couldn’t believe the virus had spread so far in such a short amount of time.
Up ahead, I saw a woman rummaging through the pockets of a dead man. Her head snapped up at the sound of the RV and she started running straight towards us on the road.
“Stop! Please!” she yelled, waving her arms at us.
Ben let out an exasperated moan. “Now what?”
Wyatt slowed the pace of the RV, and the woman ran up to his window.
“Please!” she said. “It’s my son! He’s ... he’s been hurt! Not bitten, just hurt. Please, I need your help.” Her eyes filled with tears as she held her hands in prayer position, begging for us to stop.
“We’re not on a rescue mission,” Ben said, appearing behind me. “We can’t keep stopping and helping people. It’s almost got us killed too many times already.”
Wyatt and I shot each other sideways glances. “We have a spare first aid kit,” he said to the woman. “We can give it to you.”
“No!” she shrieked, grabbing on to the glass of his rolled down window. “Please, you need to come. He’s going to die!”
We all looked at each other, not knowing what to do.
“We need to help her,” Jo said from the dining table. “Ben, you’re a medic, you can help her son.”
Ben turned to face Jo. “We can’t save everyone, Jo. It’s too much of a risk, and we’re so close to Elliot’s.”
Jo stood up and looked Ben in the eyes. “It was too much of a risk to save me back there, but you all did it anyway. What if you decided you couldn’t save me? Would you have just left me there to die?”
“That’s different,” Ben sighed.
“Not to her it isn’t. We have to help.” Jo grabbed a first aid kit, swung open the cabin door and stepped out. Ben followed right behind her, but not before picking up two knives and shoving them in his pockets.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” cried the woman as she raced around the RV to hug Jo and Ben.
Wyatt and I exchanged worried glances.
“It’s so hard to know what’s right anymore,” I said as I unbuckled my seatbelt and picked up my axe and a knife for Wyatt.
Wyatt pulled the RV to the side of the road and we joined Ben, Jo and the woman on the path. I decided to leave Hunter in the RV, I didn’t want him disappearing like he did last time we pulled over to help some poor soul on the side of the road.
“Thank you, really,” the woman said as she began walking down a nearby street. “You have no idea what you’re doing for us. I’m Sharon, by the way.”
Sharon was tall and very thin, with light brown hair down to her shoulders and dark circles under her eyes that made her look like she hadn’t slept in months. She was older than me, probably in her early forties. I wondered why she was going through a dead man’s pockets before, but I didn’t want to ask.
“How far away is your son?” Ben asked as we tried to keep up with her quick pace.
“Not far, maybe a block or two?”
“How long ago did the virus hit here?” I asked.
“About three days ago now. Some people made it out of town, but it spread so fast ...” she trailed off. “Bloody terrorists.”
I cocked my head to the side, wondering what she was talking about. “Terrorists?”
“Yeah.” She shook her head. “Sick bastards. It was all over the news before the power got cut.”
“Wait, what?” Wyatt said. “Terrorists did this?”
Sharon stopped in her tracks and turned to face us, surprised at our confusion. “You don’t know?”
We shook our heads, dumbfounded at what she was saying.
“It’s a freakin’ attack. The virus was released in major hospitals in every capital city first. Then they released it in the airports and on trains. Luckily they’d already shut down the airports after news of the hospital breakout. I even heard somet
hing about it being released at a footy match in Sydney. But we lost power before we found out who did it. Then it hit here.”
I had no words. I just stood there with my jaw hanging open in shock and tears spilling onto my cheeks. My head started to spin as I tried to make sense of everything Sharon had just said. It wasn’t some freak accidental breakout, it was a highly detailed, systematically planned attack.
“But ... why?” Jo asked, her voice as quiet as a mouse.
Sharon threw her arms in air. “Who bloody knows, girl. Some people are just crazy.”
We stood in silence for a moment, frozen in shock.
“Look,” Sharon said. “I know you’re probably freakin’ out right now, but we can’t just stand out in the open like this. My son ...” She started walking again, and we followed behind without saying a word.
My entire body was numb, and I felt like I was walking through a haze. Everything started to fall into place: why the virus spread so easily and covered such a vast terrain at amazing speed. Then I thought back to the hospital in Melbourne, when we saw those soldiers shoot two injured men who needed help. Were they army personnel, or terrorists finishing the job? I shuddered as I remembered how close we came to going in there.
So many of the questions I’d been asking myself for days were answered, but now I had new questions that I wanted answers to.
“We’re here,” Sharon said, pulling me out of my thoughts. She picked up speed as she neared the front porch of an old weatherboard house. The cream coloured paint was peeling off of the exterior and the front lawn had overgrown so much that the grass was as high as my knees.
Sharon pulled on the old screen door that was hanging on one hinge and burst into the house. Ben followed her, carrying the first aid kit in one hand and his knife in the other. I was the last to enter the house and the first thing I noticed was the smell; a mixture of dust and beer.
I jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut behind me, and I felt a rough hand grab my arm and something cold and sharp being held against my throat. The strange hand moved down my arm and pried the axe out of my fingers, dropping it to the floor before pulling my arm and holding it painfully against my back.