by West, Mark
I roll onto my side and rest a hand on Victoria’s pillow. It’s almost the longest we have been apart since this mess started. I miss her deeply.
‘Please let us find you tomorrow.’
I roll to my other side and try to close my eyes. But I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about her, obsessing where she is right now. I check the time. It’s 11.16 pm. I groan and leave the room, needing something to take my mind off tomorrow.
I slide open the door to the front deck and step outside. The rain has stopped. The air has a kind of minty freshness. Everything smells cleaner, almost like the rain has washed away all the issues of the world. I wish it would wash away mine.
I can just see the Range parked by the front gate. I moved it closer earlier that evening. It’s loaded up and I’ve checked the battery. Damn thing took me three goes to start. I’m not sure how good a getaway vehicle it would be if we needed to escape in a hurry.
I lean against the railing for a little while longer, watching the stars between bands of clouds. I used to play a game with Victoria when we were on the road – who can spot the satellite. With the city lights dead, the stars regained the night sky again. It’s amazing how many stars there are in the world.
Occasionally we would spot a satellite, floating past like a lost soul. I wonder how long before they all begin to fall to earth, or if they don’t fall, will they just float about forever? Space junk. I also wonder if there is anyone up there looking down on us. Are we the only people left in this universe, or if there is another world, better equipped to handle something like this, watching us and having a laugh? I snort.
I bet there is.
I go inside to check Isabelle is asleep. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow. I’ve no idea how we will do it with an infant.
I take a seat on the back deck and stretch my legs, listening to the water lapping up against someone’s boat, rocking it from side to side. A faint ping hums in the air of metal on metal as it taps in the soft breeze. The sound is soothing, relaxing.
I rest back in my chair, listening to the rhythm, and slowly close my eyes.
Ping … Ping … Ping …
The sound lulls me into a relaxation.
Ping … Ping … Splash!
I sit up and look out at the water.
Ping … Ping … Ping … Splash!
I continue scanning the water, but it’s too dark to see anything except a shimmer of black.
Ping … Ping … Splash! Splash!
There is more movement. This time it’s to my left. It sounded big: too big for a fish.
I hastily remove the torch from the basket. As I do, I feel my skin crawl. It’s like tiny ants are digging into my flesh. The torch is one of those Dolphin branded lanterns: built to last, projecting a decent size beam about sixty-five metres. It’s risky to use it at night, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I click it on and aim the beam at the water.
‘Oh, fuck … Infected!’ I scream.
Infected are emerging from the river like Navy SEALs. They are covered in mud and weeds and dripping with water. I aim the beam towards the other side and catch a glimpse of more Infected marching into the river – dozens of them.
Amy comes out and stands by the door. I point the beam at the bank.
‘Infected. Look!’
Infected are emerging from the water and moving up the sand towards the fence around our backyard.
‘Crap! Gate’s open,’ Amy points out.
The gate is swinging in the breeze, an open invitation for the Infected.
‘Where is Isabelle?’ she asks.
‘Bed.’
‘Weapons?’
I shake my head. ‘Victoria took the only gun. We had others but ran out of ammo.’
‘Shit.’ Amy pulls her handgun from the back of her pants. ‘I’ve got five rounds left.’
‘That’s it?’
‘I was lucky to find these rolling around in my bag.’
Infected start to enter the yard, making their way up the steps and past the pool. I estimate we have about three minutes before they reach the house.
‘Grab Isabelle and let’s bug out. We can head towards the warehouse and wait there until morning. It’s usually safe and Victoria knows to meet us there if she happens to come home.’
Amy nods and leaves.
I take a second glance over at the neighbouring property, remembering the fleeting movement I saw a few nights back. They knew we were here and have been watching us, waiting. But for how long? And why tonight?
Chapter 40
Another lie
I sprint downstairs with my bag, feeling flustered and unprepared, and grab what I can in the few minutes we have before they surround the house. All three of my favourite knives are holstered in my belt and I’m wearing my thick cargo pants with steel-cap boots. When I arrive at the front door, Amy is holding Isabelle in a carrier strapped to her front, handgun out and bag on her back. She looks how I feel – frightened as hell.
‘You ready for this?’ I ask.
The Infected have swarmed the backyard like an angry mob and are pounding on the rear doors and windows demanding to be let in. A part of me wants to go to the doors and open them.
Amy pulls back the slide on the gun, locking a bullet into place. ‘Good to go.’
Isabelle is miraculously still asleep. ‘You sure you’re right with her?’
‘I’m sure.’ Amy nods. ‘Just get that Range Rover started and get us the hell out of here, Jackson.’
I can hear the nervous tremble in her voice. The whole situation reminds me of the Block, making me anxious.
We lost almost everyone back then. Who will we lose today?
I fumble with the keys. My hand is shaking, in fact, my whole body is. I take in an uneasy breath.
‘Here we go.’
Without checking, I pull open the door, surprised to find two Infected standing calmly in the doorway. One of them looks me in the eye, docile and unresponsive in my presence. The other stiff as a board.
‘Shit!’ Amy cries out.
She draws her gun before I can say anything and fires off a round, hitting the woman on the left.
‘Wait!’ I yell, but it’s too late. Amy shoots again, taking down the man.
I stare blankly at the pair on the front porch, wondering why they didn’t attack us.
Amy grabs my shoulder, breaking my stare. ‘Jackson, let’s move!’
‘But …’
‘Jackson, c’mon!’
Amy tugs at my sleeve and moves out into the open, gun up and ready. Isabelle is awake, screaming, no doubt drawing more Infected to our location. If only she knew when to stop. I take another quick glance at the bodies, wondering. I wish I had time to think about the situation.
Something rounds the corner, fast.
‘Runner!’ I scream.
A runner is sprinting down the side of the yard and is heading for Amy. She doesn’t hear me over the loud moaning. Her back is turned, unaware that she is about to get mauled. I sprint towards it, drawing Fang from my belt and praying I can cut it off before it bowls her over.
My lungs are heaving. I lunge for the Infected, cutting it across the face then crash tackle into its chest with my shoulder. We both fall from the momentum and roll across the grass. I find myself on the bottom and have to let go of the knife as its hands dive for my face. I grip the Infected’s wrists and wrestle it off me before rolling on top and punching it in the face until it goes submissive. Within seconds it is raging again and bucking like a bull. I pin the Infected’s arms with my knees and reach out for Fang with my free hand.
‘Screw you,’ I say behind gritted teeth and jam the end into its eye, twisting it deep into its brain.
Amy pulls at my shirt. ‘Let’s go! More are coming!’
Isabelle is still a beacon of sound, guiding Infected to our location. They are now scaling the side fence and closing in.
I get to my feet and we run for the front gate, just as
Infected start to pour from the house. This time I check it’s clear before I pull the gate open.
‘Get in the Range Rover,’ I yell. ‘I’ll be with you in a sec.’
Amy looks at me oddly, but doesn’t question.
I shut the front gate, lock it and take a step back, watching as bodies slam into it. They stare with vicious intent through the metal bars – trapped within the confines of the high walls surrounding the property. It will take them too long to get around the side before we leave, so I know I have time.
‘You fucked up,’ I spit nastily. ‘You tell her. She fucked up.’
My words come out with as much hate as I can muster, because at this moment I sense my power over them, even though I’m shaking with fear and rage.
‘Tell her to back off, otherwise, I’m coming for her. You tell her that.’
At once they stop clawing at the gate and stare at me with glazed expressions before walking off. One Infected remains behind. It locks eyes with me as if determined to prove a point. It doesn’t scare me one bit. I spit in its face – a face riddled with ugly scars.
‘What’s your deal?’
I draw my knife, showing him the tip. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. I move the knife towards his face and linger, just centimetres away, daring it to back away.
‘Well?’
The car horn blares. I turn. Amy is waving at me. She points down the road. More Infected are coming – hundreds of them.
I turn to stab the Infected, but it’s gone. I can’t see it anywhere.
‘Screw it.’
I run to the Range, jump in and pull away.
‘What was that about?’ Amy asks, glancing back at the property.
‘Nothing. Let’s just get the hell out of this place.’
Another lie. I wonder how long I can keep this game up before someone notices.
Chapter 41
Highway troubles
‘There it is!’ William says, pointing through the windscreen of the Jeep.
‘We made it, Will. We made it!’ Eden grips his leg, gently this time, excitement filling her voice. ‘I can’t believe we made it!’
In the distance, tall buildings peak above the horizon like lego towers; a soft band of clouds hovers over them, welcoming the pair with open arms.
It’s midday. They passed the Gold Coast a little under an hour ago, making a beeline for their destination – a destination which they hope holds salvation and answers, and perhaps even William’s father. William grips the wheel with pleasure, peering cheerily at the outer suburbs as they thunder along the highway.
‘It’s so quiet.’
They had seen very few Infected that day, no more than a dozen or so. It seems odd to William. It’s as if they are all hiding somewhere.
Eden is staring out the window, wind blowing on her face. ‘I hope that man is right, Will. This may be our last chance of survival.’
William gives her an encouraging look. ‘We’ll soon find out.’
Five minutes later, William has to slow the Jeep down.
‘Traffic is starting to build,’ he says, pulling at the wheel.
He weaves past an overturned truck, slowing almost to a crawl to avoid an oil spill. Behind the truck is another vehicle, its back doors open, luggage spilling out.
Eden sits up in her seat, taking in the masses of abandoned vehicles. ‘Where was everyone running to?’
Vehicles are piled up along the road, some with doors open, a few with crumpled ends.
William grimaces. ‘It’s tight. We may not get through. The southbound lanes are even worse.’
‘Why were people heading south?’
William frowns. ‘I don’t know. Should we turn around?’
Eden stares at him in disbelief. ‘We can’t just turn around now. We’ve come too far.’
‘Yeah. But …’
A bad feeling creeps into his stomach. He has survived this long avoiding major cities. Why risk it now? The warning signs are literally in front of him. There is no salvation if everyone is trying to escape.
‘No, Will. Besides, what if Cynthia is here? She might be waiting for us?’
‘I guess …’
A minute later, he brings the Jeep to a stop. The road is blocked, backed up like dominoes for kilometres, making it impossible to drive through.
William turns off the engine. ‘That’s as far as we can go.’
‘There must be another way?’ Eden says nervously. ‘There has to be?’
William shrugs, the hope of finding his father fading. ‘We could try to find a motorbike or something? Can you ride?’
Eden glares at him. ‘Do I look like someone who can ride a motorbike?’
William doesn’t answer.
‘Sorry,’ Eden mumbles and looks away.
William gives her a half-hearted smile. Damn his feelings.
‘C’mon,’ he says. ‘Let’s walk. We may find a gap or something.’
The pair grab their packs and hop out of the Jeep. They are instantly struck by a wave of heat. William tries to cover his face from the glare. He is soon flapping his shirt, getting air to his sticky skin. It was going to be tough without the air-con.
Eden squints with the intensity of the sun. ‘What now?’
‘We could check the cars, see if we can find a hat or something.’
‘And some food,’ Eden adds. ‘We’re almost out.’
The pair begin checking the vehicles, pulling luggage free and rummaging through suitcases spilling onto the road.
‘Give me a hand with this one!’ William calls to Eden.
‘What did you find?’
William drags a large leather case onto the road and pops the latch. He begins rummaging through like a packrat, spilling clothes onto the hot bitumen.
‘Check this out.’ He holds up a large pair of white ladies panties with frills along the edges. ‘Do these belong to you?’
Eden glares at him and chuckles. ‘Your old girlfriend’s, I’m guessing?’
William laughs. ‘Yeah, I wish.’
He pushes the case to one side, pulling another out onto the road. ‘Jackpot.’
Eden leans in. ‘What?’
William removes a brimmed hat with the NY symbol on the front and a pair of black sunnies. He places the hat on his head and hands Eden the glasses. ‘You look like you could do with these.’
Eden takes the glasses and slips them on. She blinks a few times and takes them off with a frown.
‘Prescription.’
She hands them back.
‘Yeah?’ William puts them on and peers around. ‘Whoa, you’re right about that. Fuzzy as.’ He tosses them back in the bag. ‘Two more cases left.’ He drags them both onto the road, pushing aside the one he has already inspected.
‘Let me check one,’ Eden says, shoving him out of the way. ‘I’m good luck.’
William stands back and watches as Eden unzips the first case. She throws aside a few shirts. ‘Ha!’ She removes something and slips it under her top. ‘Close your eyes.’
William closes his eyes. All he can see is blinding red as the bright sunlight penetrates his eyelids.
‘Now put out your hands.’
He does as he is told, feeling a little anxious. ‘You’re not going to trick me, are you?’
‘And if I do?’ Eden’s voice is calm. She seems very close – so close he can feel her breath.
‘Um …’
‘Trust me; you’re going to like it. Now, hands together.’
‘Ok. Give it to me.’
‘No peeking.’
The red on his eyelids turns to black as a shadow passes over his face. He wants to look because he hates surprises. Yet a part of him wants more. He feels the pressure of her lips on his and his insides go giddy. Eden pulls away and something falls into his hands, breaking the spell. He opens his eyes and looks down at the gun in his hands. It’s matte black with a textured handle, like the ones he has seen in the movies – a Glock or somet
hing.
‘Is it loaded?’ he asks, feeling the weight of the gun. It’s surprisingly heavy.
Eden shrugs. She has a guilty grin. ‘Didn’t check.’
William remembers the kiss. His cheeks flush. ‘You, um …’
Eden gives him a cheeky smile. ‘You’re welcome.’
She steps in closer, and for a second, William thinks she is about to kiss him again. She leans over to take a closer look at the gun. ‘See if it has any bullets.’
William rotates the gun in his hand, careful not to bump the trigger. He has never fired a gun before, let alone held one. ‘How do I check?’
Eden frowns and then takes the gun. She presses down on a catch to the side, allowing the magazine to fall into her hand. ‘It’s loaded.’ She shows him the golden tips inside, hollow and lethal. ‘See, these are the bullets.’
William gives her a dirty look. ‘I’m not stupid. Just never used one before, that’s all.’
Eden locks back the magazine and flicks a button on the side. ‘Safety on.’
‘How do you know all this?’
Eden examines the gun before slipping it into the side of her pants. ‘Dad was a gun collector. Used to be part of a club and go shooting with his mates on the weekend. He took me a couple of times.’
William gawks at her. ‘He let you shoot?’
‘Well, yeah. We didn’t go for a conversation, Will.’
He shakes his head. ‘You surprise me every day. I figured you to be a bit of a …’ He trails off at her look.
‘A what?’ She cocks her hip and raises eyebrows, her hand hovering over the gun, daring him to speak.
‘Um …’ William wipes his face nervously and turns back to the last case on the ground. ‘Want to check the last case?’
Eden clicks her tongue. ‘Too cute to shoot.’ She shoves him aside. ‘This one is mine too.’
William watches Eden as she removes two boxes of bullets, another hat and two pairs of tactical glasses. The glasses sit awkwardly on their small heads, but neither of them mind. Deep yellow is better than blinding white.