Jackson Kidd (Book 1): Surviving
Page 8
It’s all sounding a bit like a military operation, you do this and you do that, but I know it’s what we all need, and the others feel it too. I can hear the excitement all around as we continue to talk with purpose, hope flooding our minds and masking the doubt and fear we all felt previously. The worrying thoughts about our families and friends still linger, but at least colour is returning to everyone.
I watch and smile at all my friends, grateful we have survived so far, and wonder where our journey will take us and how far we can go to live through this nightmare. I have no idea if we are safe up here. I told everyone we were so no one would panic and go running back into town. For all I know the Infected could be hiding in the trees and planning their attack. Not that they seem to plan attacks, they appear to be mindless. But the thought did cross my mind for some odd reason.
The strange thing is I’m feeling different. Ever since I woke up that morning, I’ve felt like there was something in me that has changed. Perhaps it’s the adrenalin I feel every minute of the day, or the feeling I’m so close to death. My body is constantly in fight or flight mode. But that doesn’t seem to be it. It’s a strange churning deep, deep inside, so low I can’t put a finger on it. In all my life I haven’t felt anything like it before. It’s almost like … like a connection to something.
Chapter 11
PREPARATION
That afternoon Rohan, Lincoln and I go to the shed. There is a plywood board covering a broken pane of glass and it rattles as I push the door open, kicking the bottom to nudge it free because it’s clinging to the swollen jamb. The air inside seems cleaner than yesterday, not so musty. I scan the room, inspecting the items, which have collected dust from all the years of neglect. It’s time to take stock of what we have and don’t have, in order to build a fence.
We spend a fair bit of time going through all the junk, listing most of the items we find in a notebook. At the top of one page I write Essentials and on another page I write Crap. The Crap side begins to fill up fast with pointless items including magazines, pillows, taps, a bed, and about fifteen chairs of various sizes: way too many chairs. On the Essentials side I write down items like chainsaws, power tools, garden implements and a few crates with random fixings and fittings. I’m not overly excited about our find, knowing I have most of the tools in my trailer, but I try to be positive.
I watch Lincoln as he pushes around a few chairs so he can inspect further into a corner of the room, frustration emanating off his body when he knocks a few over. ‘What’s with all the chairs? Bloody things are everywhere.’
I chuckle. ‘People keep dumping them here. Every time my parents go away, another group dump their crap.’ I point to a pile of magazines overflowing out of three eskies. ‘There would have to be over a hundred old magazines in there. I can guarantee they’ll never be read again.’
‘Jesus.’ Lincoln takes a drag of his smoke. ‘We should burn them all; torch this entire shed and we won’t be worse off.’
I roll my eyes, watching him blow plumes of smoke into the air. ‘Do you have to smoke in here?’
‘I do, Jackson, I do.’ He gives me a cheeky smile and blows more smoke out between his teeth like a dragon.
I sigh. I can’t be bothered arguing with him. I feel frustrated already because nothing inside is going to help us. And I agree with his suggestion that burning down the shed won’t set us back anymore than when we arrived.
‘Let’s look outside and see what we can find.’ Lincoln agrees, pushing over a few more chairs as he makes his way out of the cluster of mess.
As I’m about to step outside, I spot Rohan playing with a bag in the corner of the room. ‘Rohan, what the hell are you doing?’
He’s wearing my old snowboarding pants from when I was a kid, a jacket and a pair of mismatched blue and pink gloves. The pants ride high above his ankles, clearly too small for his body, and the jacket is a tight fit around his bulging waist, and hug his forearms like a vice.
He turns around slowly, placing a blue helmet over his head. ‘Um,’ he mumbles, fiddling with the clip under his chin. ‘I was seeing if this gear would fit me. Might borrow some for next winter, if that’s okay?’
Lincoln shakes his head. Rohan picks up a pair of goggles and examines them. They are red framed with a dark purple tint to the lenses that I recognise as my sister’s. He pulls the goggles over his eyes, clicks the strap to the helmet and begins adjusting.
I turn back to Lincoln. He’s walking towards the door. I decide to follow, glancing back at Rohan lifting up a pair of snowboarding boots.
‘There’s a lot of gear here, but it all seems old. Not nearly enough to build anything,’ Rohan says, picking up a couple of rusty sheets of iron, the ski helmet and goggles still firmly secured on his head.
Lincoln walks over to Rohan and inspects the pile of sheets. ‘Old man Robbie really knew how to gather some useless junk,’ he says, kicking the tin.
‘Well the good news is, we have all the tools required to build something. The bad news is, we need the materials.’ I grumble, inspecting the pile of junk.
Rohan moves further along the pile and lifts a split timber panel. He drops it back and it rattles loudly. He kicks it a few times, shaking his head in disgust. ‘So, what sort of fence shall we build with all this crap?’
I have a bit of an idea brewing. ‘Well, for a start, I think we need to build something fast. It needs to be strong enough to withstand a few people if they come stumbling in from the south, or even west. It also needs to be large enough that we can live within it and hopefully plant something.’
Lincoln speaks up before I can finish. ‘The fastest way to make a fence is to use those temporary fence panels they erect at construction sites. Problem is they aren’t very secure. They’re not strong enough to stop a group of those nutters.’ He pulls out a small bottle of liquor from his side pocket and I watch questionably as he unscrews the cap and takes a swig.
‘Where do you keep getting all those bottles from?’ Rohan asks. He walks over to Lincoln and puts his hand out, gesturing for the drink.
Lincoln reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small bottle of Johnny Walker and hands it to Rohan. ‘Hotel man. They needed to get rid of the old stock in preparation for the new buyers next month. I took home a few cases.’ He lets out a devilish chuckle and smiles. ‘Well, more like all of them.’ Rohan downs it in a single gulp, then attempts to give the tiny bottle back. Lincoln shakes his head. ‘I don’t want it.’ He pulls out another bottle. Jack Daniels this time and Rohan’s hand immediately shoots out, palm open and needy. ‘No way man, you need to find your own!’
A flicker of thought enters my mind. ‘Guys! Got it!’ The boys gather round, listening intently. ‘If we find enough temporary fence panels all we need is posts right? Something to hold them up better than the supports they come with.’ They nod in agreement. ‘Well, all we need to do is dig some holes around the house and concrete the posts in. We can tie the panels between and, hey presto, we have a quick and strong fence!’
‘That’s basically what I said. But you added in posts.’ Lincoln grunts.
‘Jackson, you’re a thinking man,’ Rohan says. ‘I like the words quick and strong.’ He points his finger in my direction, clicks his tongue and winks.
‘Once the fence is created, I think we should build another fence inside to act as a second barrier. We’ve all seen enough movies to know the first line of defence always gets overrun.’
‘A fence within a fence,’ Lincoln grumbles. ‘Then we should build a fence, within a fence, within a fence.’
‘And let’s string Koda up as bait to distract them so they’re easier to kill.’ I say. Koda is sniffing at an old rabbit hole.
Lincoln’s eyes light up with fire. I can see that the comment has gained a rise out of him. Of course, I would never hurt his dog. But I needed something to shut him up.
‘Listen,’ I say. ‘Once we have our first line of defence built, I think a standard timber fence
should work as a second line of protection. If we all pitch in it really won’t take too long to build.’ It did seem like overkill, but with little information about what we were dealing with we couldn’t risk it. Always plan for the worst they say.
Rohan nods. ‘Okay. The plan sounds good. But where are we going to get all this stuff to build the fence?’
‘Cooma. If not, it’s only a short hour and a half drive back into Canberra,’ I answer. ‘Remember guys, we may not need to do this. It’s worst-case scenario.’ Both boys stare back at me blankly. ‘Look, they have a Mitre 10 and a Cameron’s Hardware in Cooma. I haven’t been to either of them, but I’m sure they’ll have what we need. Farmers always need fencing supplies, and if they don’t have anything we can always make the trip back home to Bunnings. It’s riskier, but it’s a fallback plan.’
‘That’s a trip and a half.’ Lincoln says. ‘Not to mention risky as hell. Them things will be all over that joint. I prefer the first idea.’
Our conversation is cut short when Lincoln’s Colorado comes hurtling up the driveway with Doug in the driver’s seat. A loud whining noise screams from the engine bay and I can see Doug overacting his body movements, like he’s a race car driver. He slams on the brakes, sliding along the gravel surface until he comes to a halt next to the other cars. He turns in our direction and gives us a flick of his head. ‘What’s up fellas?’ He smiles, giving the thumbs up and cutting the engine.
‘Jesus, Doug, been driving long?’ Lincoln asks, screaming over to inspect his truck.
Doug cowers a little in his seat. ‘Sorry, Lincoln. I usually only drive an auto.’ He grips his two hands together and makes squishy farting noises. He tends to do this a lot. Usually for about thirty seconds. We’re not sure why he does it, but it usually comes out when he’s nervous or excited.
‘Nah, all good bro.’ Lincoln waves dismissively. ‘Was the front all clear?’ He walks to the side of the truck and opens the door.
Doug jumps out from the driver’s seat and begins tapping his foot against the tyre. A small clump of dirt falls to the ground and he inspects the sole of his shoe before turning to Lincoln. ‘The front gate’s all secure, but I did notice someone or something in the distance ducking back into the bushland as I was leaving. Saw it out of the corner of my eye. Before I had a chance to look closer it had disappeared.’
‘Not to worry.’ I shake my head. ‘It was probably a kangaroo. We have millions around these parts.’
I don’t know if what I said was true or not. We do have millions of kangaroos, and there’s no point in causing worry amongst the group, not yet anyway.
Lincoln retrieves a green canvas bag, about a metre and a half long, from the back seat and waves it about out in front of him. ‘Check this bad boy out.’ He unzips the bag slowly, face beaming with excitement and anticipation, and slides a rifle out of the bag.
‘You grabbed it!’ I cheer.
I’m excited when I see his rifle. Any additional guns or weapons could be an enormous help. And with all that has happened over the last twenty-four hours, I hadn’t had a chance to ask him if he had brought one or not.
‘Yeah man! Picked it up last week from Bevan. He even mounted the scope and sighted it in for me. Didn’t have time to grab much, but this was a priority in my eyes, even if I forgot half my undies.’ He slides back the bolt to reveal an empty chamber that glistens with oil. ‘Haven’t fired a single bullet with it yet.’
The bolt-action rifle is entirely black. Down the side is written Remington Elite: same brand as mine except I have a pump action, which holds a few extra rounds. Mounted on top is a Bushnell Elite 4500 scope attached with a small laser on the side that apparently can cast a small red dot over two hundred metres away. Impressive gear for $1,800 bucks.
‘Nice gun.’ Rohan walks over from shutting the temporary fence and begins inspecting the rifle in all its glory. ‘Can I hold it?’
Lincoln reluctantly places the gun into Rohan’s hands. ‘Be careful. Don’t dry fire this okay?’ He gives him a stern look as he releases the gun from his grip.
‘Yeah, yeah, I know,’ Rohan answers, snatching the gun. His eyes bulge, like a kid in a candy store, and he begins humming: nodding his head up and down as he inspects the rifle.
‘Impressive, eh?’ Lincoln beams.
‘Indeed.’ Rohan holds the scope to one eye, pretending to shoot at invisible targets. ‘Bang! Bang! Gotcher.’ He strokes the butt of the gun. ‘A beauty.’
That afternoon we regroup inside and I explain our idea about the fence and a possible trip into town. Everyone agrees a trip into town is required, and after a strong debate it’s decided that tomorrow will be the best day. We are all eager to check out if things in the town have quietened down and if this mess is over.
‘What about power?’ Joseph asks. ‘I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t like the thought of sitting here in the dark if it drops out permanently.’
Our power is still running off the mains. The lights often flicker and the power drops out occasionally. We believe it’s just a matter of time before we lose it all together.
‘We need to set up the generator quick smart.’ I say. ‘There’s one down in the shed. But I don’t think it’s a permanent solution. I don’t know if we can get fuel that easily. Unfortunately, I think we need to get some solar panels. Problem is I have no idea how to hook them up, but I do know a place off the Majura Parkway where we can grab some.’
‘Where?’ Piper asks.
‘It’s called Sargent Kilowatt.’
‘Sargent Kilowatt!’ Doug laughs.
‘Nice,’ Rohan says. ‘Think I’ve heard of it.’
‘Why don’t we just get them from Cooma?’ Amy is sitting close to Lincoln on one of the lounges. He doesn’t seem to mind at all. ‘It’s closer. Surely we don’t want to go into the city.’
I shake my head. ‘They don’t sell them.’
‘How’d you know?’ Piper asks, ‘Isn’t it worth a look? Why can’t you just take them from another house?’ She squeezes Rohan’s hand on her lap. ‘I’m not sure if I’m okay with Rohan leaving me.’
Rohan gives her a kiss on the cheek and whispers in her ear.
‘Taking them off another house is risky. Clambering about attempting to remove panels from a roof will expose us for too long. And I’d be worried someone may get electrocuted ripping out random cables, let alone falling off the roof. We’ll look into it if we find Canberra too dangerous, but we just can’t risk it – not yet. To answer your second question, I’ve checked Cooma already. About six months back the old man was looking at getting some installed. I searched the entire area. They don’t supply or stock them anywhere in the town. It’s a shame I didn’t get on it sooner, otherwise we’d be fine.’
‘Damn then, hey,’ says Lincoln. ‘Looks like a trip back to the capital.’
‘I agree with Joseph.’ Doug is squishing his hands together again. ‘Sitting here in the dark with those things outside isn’t anything I want to experience.’
Joseph half raises his hand, pointing a finger skywards like an arrow. ‘I think I can hook it up.’ He’s so quiet I barely catch what he says.
‘You can hook up solar panels?’ Victoria asks the question for me. She is sitting by my side holding me tightly, the notepad and pen on her lap. She has been really clingy since we arrived, perhaps afraid she is going to suddenly lose me. I’m not complaining; I love her, and I love all the attention I’m getting, but I’m worried if something was to ever happen to me. I hope she would be strong enough to keep going.
‘Yes,’ says Joseph. ‘I learnt how to do it at the school where I worked. To save money, the school used me as the labour to help some installers. I helped the guys hook up about a hundred panels over a few months. I think I can get something running.’
‘We need you to come with us,’ I say, ‘To pick out what we need, so we don’t miss anything.’
He begins shaking his head violently. ‘I can’t!’ he stands
up. He’s shaking in fright. ‘I can’t go back out there! Not yet. Please don’t make me.’ He looks like he’s seen a ghost. There’s sweat across his forehead and he’s moving uncontrollably.
I watch his panic in amazement. It’s totally unexpected considering he is a placid guy, from what we have all seen. ‘Okay, okay,’ I say in a soothing voice. ‘Calm down. You don’t have to come with us, we’ll just grab a list from you.’
We don’t need someone like that out there with us. Besides, he is so useful here and I can’t risk losing him if he does something stupid.
Joseph begins to calm down, slowly walking back to the lounge and taking a seat. He wipes his forehead with his sleeve and lets out a sigh of relief. Everyone is staring, unsure of what to say next. The best thing we can do is just drop the subject and move on.
For the next hour we continue to chat about our plans for tomorrow’s trip. We decide that me, Lincoln, Rohan and Doug will leave at first light. We hope to return that afternoon. We will take most of the guns with us, leaving the .22 and the 12-gauge shotgun behind for the girls and Joseph, in case something does wander in from the bush.
We’ll take the two trucks for the trip: my Hilux and Lincoln’s Colorado. Last month Lincoln put a bit of money into his truck, installing a new black bull bar, towing winch and new suspension, along with some extra floodlights on the roof that can swivel 360 degrees. He also upgraded the wheels to thirty-three inch all-terrain tyres to replace the factory stock standard, turning his truck into a beast of a vehicle. He set everything up in preparation for a trip up north in December, where he was going to go four-wheel driving through the swamps of Eubenangee. I doubt he is going to make that trip now.