The Survivors_Pandemic

by Alex Burns

  Mum, Tom and Yi-Ling returned an hour and a half later. The survivors had decided to build a fence.

  “A fence? Really?” I asked, trying not to sound as sceptical as I felt.

  “Well, a barrier, more like, I guess…” Mum said, trailing off. “Road blocks at first, and then eventually a large barrier fence around the whole town to keep anyone out who we don’t want in.”

  “A fence wouldn’t keep people out though, wouldn’t they just climb over? Not like we’ve got the man power to build a great wall of China type thing around us…”

  “I think they were thinking more along the lines of medieval walled villages,” Tom said. “I didn’t quite follow everything Felix and Dr Wood were saying, but I think that was the gist of it.”

  “Right…”

  I was still rather skeptical. Where were they going to get all the materials to build a great whopping fence long enough to surround the town?

  Ah well, I thought. I’d leave that for them to figure out. It would keep some of the men busy for awhile, at least. And who knew, maybe it would work out in the end.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “It’s your birthday next week,” Mum said, startling me out of my reverie. I paused my weeding and sat up, looking at her. The sun glinted behind her, making me squint.

  “Is it?” I asked, non-plussed.

  “I think we should do something,” she carried on, ignoring my utterly unimpressed expression. “You only turn thirty once, after all.”

  “Or never,” I said lightly. If it was my birthday next week, then it was Lucy’s the week after. No thirtieth birthday party for her.

  “Oh, Alice…”

  I went back to pulling out weeds. We’d had a fair amount of rain lately, so it made pulling them out pretty easy and strangely satisfying.

  “Just a small gathering,” Mum went on after a moment. I could feel her eyes on me, but I kept my head down and focused on pulling out the unwanted plants. “We haven’t had anything to remotely celebrate for… well, since before. It would be nice to feel normal again, at least for an evening.”

  I still didn’t say anything. How could a party feel normal when we would be missing so many of the regular faces?

  “It’d be good for Charlotte,” Mum said eventually, pulling out her trump card.

  I sat back on my heels again, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

  “Fine,” I huffed. “Just something small.”

  My idea of small was just the remaining family; Mum, Tom, Yi-Ling, Charlotte and me. Oh, and Ava too, I supposed. Maybe Jack. Mum’s idea of small was half the remaining town. I felt anxious when she told me she’d invited the others. It still felt wrong, somehow, to have a birthday party after everything we’d been through, and it brought home just how irretrievably different life was, and how much had changed since my last birthday.

  Turning twenty-nine had felt a bit strange. The last year of my twenties. It felt a little momentous. The Turalla Show was always around my birthday. Lucy, a city girl if there ever was one, had fallen in love with the quaint country show the first time she’d come down for my twentieth birthday. She couldn’t get enough of the wood chop competitions, sheepdog trials, highland dancing, animal nursery, arts and crafts of questionable taste, carnival rides, and the hit and miss food stalls. Somehow it had turned into a tradition. Alice’s birthday = a trip down to the Turalla Show.

  Last year, a small group of us had made the trek. Lucy and Alan, of course - the only years they’d missed were the ones I’d been in Canada. Sarah, Chris and Charlotte had come down for the day - Charlotte had loved the rides and show bag she nagged her father into buying for her, and had wanted to take a duckling and alpaca home. Tom and Yi-Ling and also a few friends from Melbourne had come as well; Tash, Aiko and Steve and his Chilean girlfriend Claudia had rounded out the gathering. It had been a lovely, clear sunny day. Alan had supplied most of the drinks with his very own home-brew, impressing the doubters with its quality. I could remember it clearly, sitting around the little fire late into the night, Tristan a warm presence next to me, staring up into the clear night sky, marvelling at the cosmos and feeling rather lucky and blessed at how my life was turning out. If I’d only known what was ahead… actually, perhaps it’s a good thing I’d had no idea…

  Before, I’ d always loved the anticipation and excitement before a party or gathering. The frantic cleaning, the preparations, the calm before the storm… Now only a feeling of impending doom filled me. I wished Mum had stuck to just family, but resigned myself to the larger gathering. I walked up to Ollie’s house to invite him. I thought maybe it was about time to forgive him. He was what he was. There was no answer when I knocked at the gate, and he’d made it all but impossible to climb any of the fences around his property. I scribbled a note and left it for him, hoping he hadn’t succumbed to anything fatal and was just out hunting or something.

  Mum slaughtered one of the young roosters in honour of the occasion, a few days before the party. Charlotte had a rather rude crash course into where exactly meat came from; Charlotte had named the poor rooster Sir Prince, but Mum still had her and Ava help pluck the doomed bird.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked.

  “Of course it is. They need to learn. Now’s as good a time as any.”

  “But…”

  “Alice, your grandfather had me doing this when I was their age. It’s fine. Besides, we have too many roosters. Something needed to be done. We may as well eat him and appreciate it.”

  That was true enough, I conceded. Out of the last batch of chicks Mum had let the clucky hen hatch, they had all turned out to be males. Not a female in the lot of them. They’d started harassing the hens and making life a bit difficult. They were a good looking bunch of roosters though, I had to admit, even if they were annoying. I watched the remaining flock. One particularly large bird flapped his wings in my direction and crowed. I wondered if they’d noticed that their brother had disappeared.

  Charlotte screwed up her face at first when Mum showed her what to do, but when Ava competently took hold of the carcass and started pulling, Charlotte watched closely and soon demanded a turn. I flattened my mouth and left them to it, Mum shooting a triumphant look at my departing back.

  “Found this in the back of the cupboard.” Bec handed me a bottle of wine. “Happy Birthday!”

  “Thanks!” I took the dusty bottle. We stood awkwardly for a moment, both unsure what to say next. I fell back on the old courtesies. “Would you like a drink? We’ve got red wine, white wine, beer… um, I’m sure Mum’s got some spirits stashed away somewhere if you’d prefer something a little stronger.”

  “Red wine would be great,” Bec said, her arms swinging by her side. She trailed after me as I bounded into the kitchen. The dogs both huddled excitedly around the new guest, sniffing her and no doubt hoping for a pat.

  “Maggie, stop it,” I scolded as the big, fluffy dog stuck her nose into Bec’s crotch. Bec just laughed and gently pushed the dog away.

  “Is she yours? She’s beautiful.”

  “No,” I said, and swallowed. Why was it still so hard? “Well, yeah, I guess she is mine now. She was my best friend’s dog.”

  “Ah.”

  Thankfully I didn’t have to say anything else. Bec focussed her attention on the dogs while I found a clean wine glass and poured her a drink.

  “Ta,” she said, accepting the glass off me. “I’ve somehow ended up with four cats and two dogs, myself. They all seem to have adopted me.”

  “Really?”

  Bec nodded. “I started leaving food out for the neighbour’s dog - do you remember the Grey’s?”

  I nodded. They’d named their daughter Jane. I couldn’t decide if that was brilliant or a bit morbid.

  “Anyway, after they died, their little dog kept turning up at my door. Took me a couple of days to realise the poor thing was hungry. She must have spread the news amongst the locals, ‘cause before I know it, I’ve got
another dog and a bunch of cats turning up. I think the cats can fend for themselves, but they’re just lazy and like being fed and snoozing in front of the fire.”

  “Cats’ll do that,” I murmured. “That’s good of you though. There must be so many animals… Jack’s grandpa has been going around and trying to help as many farm animals as he can. I keep thinking I should help him or something…”

  “Oh, is he? I should help. Not like I have much else to do these days…”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Hopefully it stays that way… no offence.”

  Bec laughed. “None taken.” She was a nurse. With Tom and Yi-Ling back, we had three health professionals. It was a pretty good ratio, really. “I think I need to find a hobby though.” Bec stared into her wine glass. “I think it would be easier if I was busy. I have a bit too much time to think, you know.”

  “I know the feeling… we try to keep busy though. It helps, a bit.”

  “What do you do?”

  I chewed my cheek and shrugged. “Mum keeps us all pretty physically occupied - I’ve got a couple of cows I milk each morning, and we’ve got the veggie garden to take care of… and we’ve been giving Ava and Charlotte lessons most mornings. Well, we try to. I don’t think I’m a very good teacher…”

  Bec sighed. “What a way to grow up…”

  “Yeah…”

  We were both silent for a moment.

  “D’you ever wonder what happened to them all?” Bec asked.

  “Who all?”

  “Like, the celebrities, and the royals and the politicians. D’you think they might have survived?”

  “I don’t see how. The Red Death didn’t seem to discriminate much,” I said with a faint shake of my head.

  “I suppose not. But what if they knew something we didn’t?”

  “What, like a cure or something?”

  Bec shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe how to prevent it, if not an outright cure. Maybe there is a cure out there somewhere now. We don’t know what it’s like out there. It might just be us here in Australia that are royally fucked. The Japanese might be still fine. So might the Brazilians or the Russians. Do you think we’ll ever find out?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. I hoped every day that things weren’t as bad in Canada, that Tristan was still alive and not going through what we were.

  There was another knock at the door. I turned to see Jack and his grandparents. Bec hovered back as I greeted them warmly.

  “Rabbit sausages,” Jack said proudly, holding out a plate for me.

  I wrinkled up nose. “Rabbit sausages?” I asked doubtfully.

  “They taste fine,” Jack said with a laugh. “Pa made them.”

  I realised I was being rude and thanked them.

  “What’s a barbecue without sausages?” Andy asked with a smile.

  Over the next forty or so minutes, the rest of the guests arrived. Ben and Melissa, Ina, Judy, her mother, Betty and little Lily to play with Charlotte and Ava, Neylan and Mary Johnstone.

  In the end, it wasn’t that bad. People mingled, drank, ate, and there was even a bit of laughter. The rabbit sausages were a hit, as was my broccoli salad. Melissa and Ben both salivated over the roast chicken.

  The fire burned brightly, a warm speck in a dark, cool night. Jack and I were the only ones left. The others had all trickled back home over the last couple of hours. Mum had just gone to bed, a peck on the forehead for both me and Jack. I could almost fool myself into thinking it was a decade ago, and we were all just fresh out of high school, and Sarah was just in the bathroom or kitchen getting another drink, sure to arrive back and claim her spot on the log by the fire pit. I took a swig of beer and the illusion shattered.

  “So, how did you meet your Canadian fella?” Jack asked after minutes of us both staring into the flames. “I never asked.”

  “Tristan? In a bar,” I said with a laugh. “Very classy… I was very drunk.”

  “Didn’t think people met in bars any more,” Jack said with a chuckle and threw another log on the fire.

  I shrugged. “Guess we’re old fashioned that way.”

  “So, what? You met in a bar? That’s it? Weren’t you in Canada?”

  “Yeah,” I said, remembering back to that night many years ago. I’d been so young and full of life and hope. “I hadn’t been there that long. Only a couple of months or so. I’d actually sworn off men that year. Didn’t want any complications.” I shook my head and let out a faint laugh.

  “Isn’t that how it usually works?”

  “What?” I took another swig of beer. It was getting warm.

  “Well, you know, when you’re looking for a relationship nothing happens, but when you’re not interested then you meet your perfect match.” He poked the fire, making sparks fly up into the twinkling sky.

  “Yeah, I guess… It’s weird thinking how close I came to not meeting him at all. It was random. All the little things that had to happen for us to both be at that particular bar, at that particular time, in those particular seats…” I shook my head, marvelling that we’d met at all. “Anyway, I was out with my housemates that night. Sarah had just told us that she was pregnant with Charlotte. I wanted to celebrate…” I trailed off, remembering how excited Sarah had been. They’d been trying for a year or so before Charlotte had stuck around. I’d been intensely homesick that night, wanting desperately to be with my family to share the good news and celebrate in person.

  “Yeah, I remember,” Jack said in a soft voice “She was over the moon.” I looked over at him. The firelight reflected his sad smile.

  “She was…” I stared into the flames, my mind whirling with memories of my older sister.

  “So, you and your Canadian?” Jack prodded after a minute or two.

  “Right,” I said, holding my hands out towards the flames. “Anyway, so I’d had a few too many champagnes in honour of my future niece or nephew, and somehow we ended up at a pub Downtown while we waited for another housemate to finish work. It was pretty busy in there, and there were only a few empty seats at the bar. There was one empty stool next to me, and Tristan’s mate ended up sitting there. They started ordering this ridiculous amount of drinks. I remember looking at them in surprise as the bartender kept lining up drinks. Somehow I started chatting to Ryan - that’s the friend’s name - and we chatted for a bit, but then he got up to go to the loo and Tristan stole his seat. I honestly don’t really remember what we talked about… I just remember he made me laugh a lot, and I thought he had a name out of a fantasy book.” I smiled to myself, remembering how giddy, light, sexy and free I’d felt.

  “Then what happened?”

  I shook myself, realising I’d been staring into the flames for a bit too long. I leaned back and shrugged.

  “We had to go. My housemates and me, I mean. Tristan asked me for my number. I almost gave him a fake one, but something made me give him the real one.”

  Jack laughed. “Why do chicks do that? If you’re not interested, just say so. We’re big boys, we’ll get over it.”

  I sighed and shook my head at his naivety. “It’s not that easy! You, Jack, might take it well and respect my choice, but a lot of blokes don’t… didn’t…” I thought gloomily about all the men who wouldn’t have a chance to go out for a night of fun and maybe potentially meet someone, even if they were a bit jerky about it.

  “I suppose so…” Jack said slowly. “So he got your number and that was it, was it?”

  I laughed. “Not quite. He called me a few days later and asked me on a date. You know what? I’d never actually been on a proper date before, so I thought ‘why the hell not’.”

  “No date ever?”

  “Well, not a proper one. I’d always just gone out with friends or workmates or whatever and it had developed from there… There’d been no, you know, like, formal date before. Not like in the movies.”

  “What about Ollie?” He would remember that. He and Sarah probably had a good old laugh over it back then.

 
I let out a giggle. “Oh yeah. Does it really count though? I knew him already. And he gave me a choice between McDonald’s and KFC. It wasn’t exactly the romantic date I had in mind at that age.”

  “Aww, give him a break. He was only, what, eighteen? You can’t expect much at that age.”

  “Yeah, well, Tristan wasn’t all that much better at twenty-two,” I said with a fond laugh.

  “What happened? Did he take you to McDonald’s as well?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. We didn’t even go on our date for a few weeks after we met - I already had a trip booked to Hawaii with one of my friends, and then I went down to meet up with Lucy and Alan in New Orleans for a few days on their road trip…” I stopped and took another sip of beer. I wondered when it would get easier, remembering them. I shook my head to clear it. “Anyway, so yeah by the time I got back from my little jet setting trips, then he was out of town for a few days… By the time we were both actually free and in Vancouver it was, like, three weeks later. I’d totally forgotten what the bloke looked like! I seriously almost cancelled on him.”

  “Almost gave him the wrong number, almost cancelled on him… geez, Alice!”

  “I know, I know. Well, I remember telling myself that if he turned out to be horrid or boring, then I could just leave and never see him again. So I went.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  I laughed and leaned back, looking up at the bright stars twinkling away with no concern for us. There were so many of them. I was filled with both deep awe and an unsettling feeling of utter insignificance. I sometimes used to forget, living in the city, just how many stars you could see on a clear night in the country. I wondered if Tristan was looking up, seeing what I could see, and then realised sadly that we couldn’t see the same stars, even if we were both looking up. Besides, it was about five o’clock in the morning where he was.