Dead Tropics

by Sue Edge

  “We’re going to have to post someone up here with a walkie-talkie to keep an eye on the troop movements.” Mike said between mouthfuls.

  “Okay.” I wondered if he wanted me to volunteer. I had no intention of being separated again from my family, however, so I kept quiet and focused on eating.

  Belly soothed, I gazed at the still lake below. It looked so cool and welcoming. Oh bugger it, I thought defiantly, a few minutes more won’t hurt. Throwing Mike a mischievous grin, I took off at a run and leaped into the water. Just as I expected, it felt glorious. As my head emerged, I saw Mike on the bank, watching me with a crooked smile.

  “You look like a drowned rat, girl.”

  I laughed. “Don’t care what I look like. The water feels like heaven!”

  He sat down and plucked a blade of grass.

  “Don’t you want to come in and cool down?” I asked, curious. He shook his head.

  “Big strong Mike isn’t scared of the water, is he?” I teased.

  “Nope.”

  “Then why?”

  Mike just shrugged as he lay back on his elbow. My curiosity increased.

  “You can swim, can’t you?”

  “Yeap.”

  Exasperated, I splashed water at him. “Tell me, damn you!”

  “Nope.”

  Shaking my head, I clambered out of the water. “Has anyone ever told you what an annoying man you can be?”

  “Yeap.”

  “Ahhh!” Shaking my sopping hair, I splattered water all over him. Laughing, he held his arms out in a protective gesture. In that instance, I had an intense moment of d��j�� vu. A scene from many years ago. Charles on a rug here, laughing at me, as I stood over him, wet and cajoling him to join me…

  “Lori?”

  Blinking, I saw Mike’s quizzical expression.

  “It’s nothing.” I mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I was just remembering how I used to come up here with my husband before we had kids.”

  “I’m sorry.” His expression softened. I wondered who had told him about Charles.

  “It’s okay. It’s just sometimes…” I hesitated. “I just wish…”

  Mike waited patiently as I tried to put my feelings into words. “We used to have so much fun together when we were young. Believe it or not, I was a fun person! And Charles never lost that sense of fun. But somewhere along the way, I became a nagging, boring person. I just wish I had the chance to do things differently.” I stopped, flushing as I realised I was babbling. What on earth possessed me to open myself up like that?

  “Lori, I never had the chance to know your husband but I’m sure he didn’t regret a single moment with you.” He grinned suddenly. “While you might be a bit of a nag, you’re anything but boring.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks. I think. But you don’t really know me.”

  Mike stood up. I resisted the urge to step back nervously as he loomed over me. “I know all I need to know.”

  I cleared my throat, trying for cool and amused. “Really. What do you think you know about me?”

  “You’re stubborn.” True.

  “Controlling.” Just a little.

  “Short tempered.” Hmm.

  “Bossy.”

  “Okay, okay, fine.” I snapped. “You know me, I get it.” Men.

  “You’re also compassionate, sassy, brave, passionate, funny…”

  “Okay.” I repeated, flushing, feeling shaky for some reason. His eyes held mine for a long moment. I knew I needed to look away, make a joke - do something to break the intimacy of the moment. But I did nothing. For a few precious moments, the constant chatter of my anxious thoughts ceased as Mike’s eyes travelled over my face with a warmth of a gentle caress.

  Mike stepped back. “Your husband was a lucky man, Lori, and I’m sure he knew it.”

  I blinked, coming abruptly back to earth. My God, I thought with dismay, what am I doing? I could feel my face flushing with mortification.

  “We’d better get going.” I mumbled. My thoughts whirled, aghast at my behaviour. Death surrounded us, and here I was, flirting! I couldn’t believe myself.

  Mike was probably laughing himself silly at my expense, and I couldn’t blame him. What the hell was wrong with me?! Yes, he was attractive but I had been around attractive men before - I had never allowed myself to be drawn into such an intimate moment with anyone since I met my husband! Why did I feel such an intimate connection with him? Was it because of the intensity of the situations we had been through together? Yes, that must be it, I decided with relief, that’s all it was. Intense situations create intense bonds. I had read that somewhere. I was just reacting to the situation.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at Mike as we started the long hike back. Thankfully, the walk downhill proved a lot easier than the walk up. Still, I was perspiring freely by the time we returned to the Crystal Cascades national park. Pausing to scan the area, I was reassured that there were no zombies lurking in wait for us. The walkie-talkie crackled. Mike pulled it out. “What’s up?”

  It was Emma. “Get Lori, please.” Mike raised his eyebrow quizzically as he passed the walkie-talkie to me. I shrugged. I have no idea. She didn’t sound frantic so I assumed it wasn’t anything urgent.

  “Hey Emma. What’s going on?”

  “It’s Sarah, Lori. She’s developed a high fever…”

  The world spun around me. Sarah. As my vision darkened, the walkie-talkie fell from my nerveless hand and I felt my legs go out from under me. Strong arms grasped me and lowered me gently to the grass. Mike’s face swam above me. Dimly, I was aware of him talking on the walkie-talkie.

  “Lori.” As my vision cleared, Mike’s calm voice cut through my panic. “Listen to me. Sarah doesn’t have the virus. Her wound is infected. Do you hear me? She hasn’t got the virus.”

  It took me a moment to grasp the meaning of the words he was saying, but as they sunk in, I felt dizzy with relief. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and tried to center myself once more. My baby was going to be okay. Shaking, I sat up and grabbed the walkie-talkie.

  “Oh Lori, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think…”

  “Forget it. When did she develop a fever?” I interrupted shakily.

  “Not long after you left. I’ve cleaned and rewrapped the wound but I’m worried about an infection. We’re going to need a broad spectrum antibiotic to treat the sepsis.”

  “Okay, okay.” My thoughts spun through my options. “I’ll find some.”

  I looked up at Mike. “Fancy a road trip?” I asked with a weak smile. He stood up and offered his hand to me.

  “Things were getting dull around here, anyway.” He responded, deadpan.

  Back on my feet, I tucked the walkie-talkie away. “There is a pharmacy at the Redlynch shopping centre. We should be able to get what we need there.”

  Mike nodded. “First things first, we need a vehicle.” I agreed, looking at the ten or so cars sitting in front of us.

  “I don’t suppose your repertoire of skills include hotwiring a car?” I asked hopefully.

  He shook his head regretfully. Damn. I had begun to think that there was nothing this guy could not do.

  Sighing, I looked across the car park. There was nothing for it but to go to the popular swimming holes and search the picnicker’s belongings for keys. “Okay. We’ll try the first swimming hole and keep our fingers crossed that we find car keys quickly.”

  “Look for one with a remote. We don’t have time to try unlocking a dozen cars in order to find which one the key fits.”

  We set off at a trot across the car park. Nearing the top of the stairs, which meandered down the steep bank to the first rock pool, I paused and pulled out my parang. Mike reached over his back and pull out a cleaver. Carefully, quietly, I stepped down the rock steps, followed by Mike.

  There were vines and trees on both sides obscuring our view as we descended. As the waterfall came in sight, I spotted several teenaged boys in their board shorts str
anded on large rocks around the waterfall, gaping wounds on their bodies. A family of zombies stood in the shallow end of the rock pool. The man and woman in their thirties and their two little girls, turned to stare at me. Both the girls’ faces had been gnawed, exposing teeth and bone in a gruesome mockery of a grin. Lumbering awkwardly through the water, they started to make their way towards us.

  Stepping off the stairs onto the bank, I saw the picnicker’s bags. They lay loosely grouped together on the surface on a nearby flat boulder. Just beyond them stood a powerfully built man and, presumably, his girlfriend. Her bloodstained blond hair almost covered the missing chunk in her cheek. They, too, immediately began staggering towards us.

  Mike stepped past me, cleaver held forward. “I’ll hold them off while you look through the bags, Lori. Make it quick. “

  “Umm.” I tugged his shirt. “I have a suggestion. Why don’t we just grab all the bags and get out of here?”

  Silence.

  “Yeah, that plan works too.”

  Bursting through the trees, we raced over the smaller rocks to the big boulder. Keeping a watchful eye on the zombies as they approached, I grabbed as many bags as I could carry, then turned, and ran back up the steps, Mike on my heels with the remaining bags.

  I upturned the bags on the road and scrabbled through them, searching for keys. I found three sets of keys but none with remotes. Frustrated, I turned to Mike. “Any luck?”

  He dangled a set of keys in front of me. It didn’t have a remote, either.

  “Damn it!” I cursed. We would have to try all the cars. The noise we were making was already attracting unwanted attention. Two zombies lurched out of the toilet blocks and, in the distance, several zombies staggered down the path towards us.

  Mike stood up. “These’ll do nicely, Lori. Let’s go.” Puzzled, I dusted off my hands and followed him as he strode into the car park. He bypassed several cars and then stopped. As I cleared the cars, I saw he was standing beside a Kawasaki motorbike.

  “What do you think?” He smiled. “Do the job?”

  “Right now, I’d accept a bicycle.” I responded, a nervous eye of the zombies. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Mike straddled the motorbike and I clambered behind him, hands firmly on his waist. Opening the throttle, he roared down the highway with confidence. Minutes later, we passed our house as we headed towards the shopping centre. I sent them my love and prayers as we drove over the old bridge.

  A car lay overturned on the hill, blood staining the road around it. On the side of the road, a zombie stood motionless, staring at us. As we left the rural suburbs behind and entered the suburbs, we found our path blocked. Car upon car lay stalled, crashed or overturned, blocking the road for twenty meters. Mike slowed the motorbike as he cautiously negotiated the maze of vehicles.

  I swallowed at the sight of a woman’s arm lying on the road. Blood splattered the road around it. The smashed windscreen of a nearby car had pieces of clothes and flesh hanging from its edges. Another woman stood beside a blue Volkswagen. Grey skinned and dull-eyed, the creature limped towards us. My hands clutched Mike’s shirt instinctively. He turned his head inquiringly, and seeing the woman, nodded in acknowledgement.

  A moan drew my eyes to a middle-aged man lying over a bonnet on my right. He stretched his arms out to us, his mouth stretched wide over pale gums. I flinched involuntarily before I realised that he could not reach us. His lower half had been severed.

  Moaning. All around us, as Mike weaved between vehicles, heads appeared. “Mike!”

  “I see them.”

  From the houses lining the street, zombies lumbered out. My heart started racing. Things were getting a bit hairy for my liking.

  A hand lunged out of a car window as we passed by. I screamed as it brushed my arm, causing Mike to swerve. As he straightened the bike, I looked back at the car. Through the window, a child, still strapped in its seat, stared at me. Four or five years old, its blank, implacable eyes gazed out of a face still plump and innocent. From the front seat, its mother thrashed in her seat, unable to work out how to release herself from her prison.

  Finally, we were through the maze and Mike opened the throttle again, sending the bike surging forward. He roared out onto the open highway again, swerving adroitly between the dozen or so zombies dotting the road.

  14

  I breathed a sigh of relief. In the silence of the suburbs, the bike was attracting a lot more attention than was comfortable. More and more zombies lined the road as we passed, like a bizarre ticker tape parade. They fell in behind us, slowly building a horde in our wake. I hoped that didn’t spell trouble for us on the way back.

  The shopping centre loomed ahead. Mike brought the bike to a stop beside an open field that separated the road from the shopping centre. At my inquiring look, he jerked his head to the zombies behind us. “A quieter approach might be in order.”

  I agreed, throwing a nervous glance at the distant zombie pack as I climbed off the bike. Mike removed his backpack and rearranged his weapons. Along with his rifle slung over his shoulder, he had a cleaver strapped between his shoulder blades, a bat in his backpack, and a stiletto knife tucked in his belt. I felt suddenly naked in comparison, with just my parang and pistol tucked in my waistband.

  We marched through the long grass, heading for the back of the shopping center. A quick glance behind me showed that our zombie fans were still following us. It would take at least fifteen minutes for them to reach the centre. Plenty of time for us to get in and out, I thought without conviction.

  We decided on entering via the side entrance. Mike grabbed the door handle and quietly pulled it open. The silence emanating from the building was oppressive. The corridor ahead was dark, but the lights in the supermarket up ahead were on. Taking a deep breath, I slipped past Mike. Up ahead, the shops were grouped around an open area. The pharmacy was on the left while the supermarket lay on the right. Straight across were some small shops and the toilet.

  As we reached the end of the corridor, I paused. Blood splattered the smooth, creamy floors of the open area, from one end to the other. I could see the legs of a body lying behind a bench. A zombie wandered into view. It was a woman, long dark hair, wearing a uniform. I restrained a gasp as she turned sideways, exposing her torso. The flesh had been removed, exposing her ribs. Another zombie staggered out of the post office. Her face had been ripped off, causing her to bang into a bin and, hands forward, feel her way past. Mike tapped my shoulder and pointed at the supermarket. Through the gloom, at least thirty shoppers and workers milled around the shop. And those were just the ones I could see.

  There was nothing for it but to make a dash for it. I waited until the zombie in the middle was walking in the opposite direction and then slipped quickly into the nearby pharmacy, heading straight for the counter. Hunkering down behind it, I took a moment to catch my breath and allow my heartbeat to slow, watching Mike as he joined me.

  Kneeling, Mike carefully peered over the counter top. He held up four fingers. Four zombies in the shop. Sliding past him, I scurried towards the prescriptions counter. I would find the supplies I needed in the shelves behind it. As I reached the end of the counter, I peered cautiously around the edge - and found myself staring into the dead eyes of a zombie. It moaned and grabbed at me. Squeaking in surprise, I jerked backwards. The zombie, once an obese middle-aged woman, placed its arms on the floor and dragged its torso closer to me. The lower part of her body had been devoured, I realised with revulsion. It ended just below her pelvis, nothing but naked bone and shredded flesh. Pale blue eyes fixed on me, she slid even closer. Wishing I’d brought my stake, I pulled out my parang but Mike slipped past me, grabbed her by the hair and drove the stiletto knife through her eye. Instantly, her body stilled.

  Catching his eye, I gave a shaky nod of appreciation. Returning my parang to my belt, I followed him up two steps and into the back of the pharmacy. Shelves of medication lined the walls. Trying to stay low, I started por
ing through the supplies, looking for the broad-spectrum antibiotics I needed. Mike disappeared, scouting out the rest of the room, I presumed. The antibiotics weren’t hard to find, thankfully. Removing my backpack, I started filling it, first with a good supply of antibiotics and, then with a few other essentials that might come in handy if this quarantine lasted much longer, like Jessie’s asthma medication.

  There was a muffled thud at the back of the room. Hoping it was Mike, I replaced my backpack and moved silently forward. I rounded the centre shelves and saw Mike standing over a body wearing a white coat. Blood dripped from the stiletto in Mike’s hand. Looking up, he directed a querying look at me. I nodded. Got everything. We can go now.

  I guess we weren’t as quiet as we’d hoped. Two zombies blocked the opening to the back room. A young dark-haired woman called Mandy, according to her nametag, dragged her battered body toward me. Just behind her, an older woman reached out her one remaining arm for Mike. By mutual agreement, we pulled out our hatchets and stepped forward. My heart hammered as I swung my parang at Mandy’s neck. It sliced three quarters of the way through her neck, causing her head to loll grotesquely on her shoulder. Still, her arms groped for me. Revolted, I stood on tiptoes and, swinging my hatchet overhead like an axe, I finished lopping her head off. It hit the tiled floor with a thud that rang in my ears.

  Turning to Mike, I saw he had already dispatched the other zombie. Cool and composed, he wiped clean his cleaver and jerked his smooth head at the opening. Let’s go. No arguments there. We hurried out of the compounding room onto the sales floor. Two more of the creatures were waiting for us. I evaded one easily but in its eagerness to grab me, it knocked a stand down. The reverberating crash as the stand hit the tiled floor made me cringe. Oh, that was not good. I sent an apologetic look to Mike. He shrugged fatalistically and moved to the entrance of the pharmacy. The central area of the shopping centre was quickly filling with zombies. To get to the side exit again, we would have to fight our way through a dozen zombies, with more pouring out of the supermarket by the second.