The Aztec Saga - Hunted

by J.S. Davidson

  *****

  The stars had gone and the sun shone fiercely through the window. A couple of jackets had been rolled up and placed carefully under my head, and a large brown coat lay across me as a blanket.

  “Andy?” I called, as I lifted my hands to wipe my eyes into focus. I stopped quickly as pain from my shoulders shot down my arms. “Jesus Christ!” I cursed at the pain. I rolled to my knees and used only my legs to push myself to my feet. “Andy, where are you?” I called again.

  Something caught my eye. My necklace was snaking over a yellow note that had been left sitting on the laptop. The note read:

  ‘Press play.

  Had to go check on my family, you were out cold.

  Hopefully I’ll be back before you wake up.

  If not, wait there! I am coming back.

  And here’s your necklace. You were right,

  It is just a piece of jewellery!

  Andy.

  P.S. Eat the food!’

  I tried to put my necklace on, but I couldn’t lift my arms high enough—my shoulders hurt too much. I wrapped it around my wrist instead. A sense of calm washed over me as soon as I clipped it together. How was it that something so small and simple could have such an impact on my mood?

  A large croissant and an unopened bottle of water sat next to the laptop. I pulled the seat out and lowered myself into it. I took a bite from the croissant; it was crunchy and stale, but I forced it down with some water. As I finished the last piece, I clicked Play on the laptop.

  The screen filled with the image of a female news reporter. “In recent times, Melbourne has been subject to inexplicable and extreme weather conditions,” she began. “Many are blaming separate religious groups for the cataclysmic weather, claiming it’s due to displeased Gods. Others are blaming global warming. Just yesterday, a cyclone wiped out almost all of Adelaide and now is headed directly for Melbourne. Parts of Melbourne have been evacuated due to the explosions, which only hours ago ripped through the city. Many of the bombers have since been captured. This would usually be welcome news. In this instance however, it is anything but. The bombers have informed police they have hidden countless more bombs throughout Melbourne and are set to explode at certain times. They say the bombs’ locations will only be disclosed once their demands are met. These demands have not been released to the public. Thus far, no bombs have been discovered. Police suspect the possibility of it being little more than fear mongering. Even so, we have been told to inform all viewers to please go to the nearest Safe Station until the true extent of the situation is known.”

  The laptop screen went black. I pressed the power button quickly, and a red battery flashed across the centre of the screen.

  “Damn it!” I hit the laptop with my hand.

  I felt my pocket vibrate. I pulled out my phone and saw it was a call from Sam.

  “Sam?” I asked as I answered the phone.

  “Alexandra! My God, it’s good to hear your voice. You know how to give an old man a heart attack, don’t you? I’ve been worried sick about you. Where are you? Are you with Andy?” I could tell he was angry that I hadn’t contacted him to tell him of my absence, but his relief at knowing I was okay outweighed his anger.

  “Yeah, Sam. I’m with Andy. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  “Is that Alexandra?” I heard Emilee call out over him.

  “Yes, Emilee, I’ve finally gotten a hold of her,” Sam answered.

  “Give it here.” I could hear her snatch the phone from him. “Alexandra! What the hell is going on?” She sounded furious. “Where are you?”

  “In a small deserted office in Melbourne.”

  The phone went silent for a moment. “Melbourne?” she shrieked.

  “Melbourne? What’s she doing all the way down there?” Sam called out.

  “Yes, Melbourne. It’s no big deal ...”

  “No big deal! The entire city’s in lock down!” She drew several heavy breaths. “It says on the news that most of the city has been flattened. Why are you still in the city? Why aren’t you at a Safe Station?” She spoke so frantically I could barely understand her.

  “What do you mean in lock down? We were in an explosion, but I didn’t think it was city wide.”

  “You were in an explosion!” she cried.

  “Explosion? Who was? What are you talking about Safe Stations?” Sam yelled at Emilee.

  “We’re okay. It was the rioters ...” I stopped short. I really didn’t know if we were okay. I had no idea how long ago Andy had left or where he might be.

  “Alexandra? Alexandra? Are you there? What is going on?” Emilee panicked.

  I didn’t answer.

  Broken glass crunched loudly as my heavy feet stepped through the front door into the broken and crumbling city. The dust had finally settled, and the aftermath of the devastation was clear. The city was deathly silent as I stared out to it.

  “You said the city is in lock down?”

  “Yes, the News says that everybody must report to a Safe Station ... it’s also saying this all started because the rioters are now blaming the insane weather on people’s defiance to God or something. Morons! Just before it was the Government’s fault, now it’s Gods! Ugh, people do my head in! Basically it got out of control. Tell me that you and Andy are in a Safe Station now. They’re saying anyone outside of a Safe Station tomorrow will be shot! They’re declaring Martial law.” She breathed down the phone as though she had been running for hours.

  “Is it just Melbourne?” My mind raced furiously as I tried to plan an escape route. There was no way I could go to a Safe Station. The very first thing they would do would be to search me, not to mention I would be a sitting duck.

  “I’m not sure, I think so. They’ve half fixed Barri-Barri tower but we are still only getting TV reception at irregular times; it’s only luck if the News is reporting at the time we get it. As for phones, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for over a day. We’ve been worried sick about you. Where’s Andy? Put him on the ...” The phone went silent.

  “Emilee? Hello? Emilee?” I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the screen. The call had been disconnected. I hit the redial immediately, but instead of it ringing, a ‘call failed’ message flashed across my screen. “Damn it!” I cursed and pushed my phone back into my pocket. As I did, I noticed something else in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was a small piece of paper.

  “Abde,” I said as I unfolded it.

  ‘Rose and Jonah Persival.

  65 Alpine Way, Falls Creek.’

  I squeezed the piece of paper tightly in my hand as I paced the small office. Andy’s note specifically told me to stay put—he was coming back for me. Phones were working, so I’d just call him and tell him I was awake and we would both go to the Persival’s. I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Andy’s number.

  “Hi, you’ve reached Andy Munroe. I can’t take your call right now so please leave a message. Unless you’re a hot chick, in that case forget the message and get naked and lie in my bed.” I smiled at his message.

  But my smile quickly faded as I realised that I had an opportunity to save him. He didn’t have to come with me any further. If I did tell him about the Persivals, he would follow me blindly. Death had been only inches away from both of us, and I was the cause of it. His life literally balanced in my hands. I pulled the phone from my ear and pressed the ‘end call’ button. A familiar feeling came gushing back to me; it was the same as when I had opened my eyes for the first time in the hospital after our house exploded—I was alone. But this time I didn’t have Tess to help me, to support me and to guide me through my own obstacles. I realised at that moment how much I had relied on other people to push me through difficult times. I hadn’t been capable of dealing with the harsh world by myself.

  I looked down at my arm. The marking of the symbol was more vibrant than ever. I had no clue as to what was in store for me next, or who would be hunting me tomorrow. But I was certain that the ti
me had come for me to face my own life, my own reality, without relying on anybody else to pick up the pieces. I walked across to the desk and took the note from the screen. I turned it over and wrote on the back:

  ‘No, I won’t wait.

  Be safe, Andy.

  I love you.’

  I was well aware that these words would quite possibly be the last words I would ever say to him. I never had the chance to say a proper goodbye to Michael and Sasha. I had re-lived the moments before their deaths a hundred times, and I rehearsed what I would have said to both of them. But I now realised that no words, no matter how eloquently spoken or written, could ever suffice. There is no way to say goodbye to someone you love.