‘Jesus,’ she said, ‘no wonder you couldn’t walk. How long’s it been like that?’
‘Since yesterday.’
Gemma’s respect for him shot up several notches. He’d not said a word about it that whole time. She took back her earlier thoughts about his lack of physical abilities.
‘What’re you like with first aid?’ she asked.
‘I did a course a few years ago.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘They made me the Health and Safety rep for the IT department. I had to do a refresher each year, although I did miss the last one.’ He gave a goofy grin. ‘Our main frame went down and I had to work through…’ He saw her blank look. ‘Anyway, I know what to do with a blister.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’m going to look around.’
She took the torch from her daypack and used it to poke around the boss’ office. She didn’t know what she expected to find, but hopefully there would be something of use to them on their journey. Alex’s reaction to her breaking in was right but she reasoned that, given the current circumstances, a degree of legal leniency could be applied.
She wasn’t disappointed. The boss kept a supply of sweets in his desk and she took them. He also had a small beer fridge hidden in a cabinet, which housed bottles of water and cans of full-fat Coke in addition to his craft beers. The fridge wasn’t running but the bottles were still cool. She stacked some by the door to come back to, and went upstairs.
The three workers were obviously younger than the boss, judging by the photos and paraphernalia on their desks. One had two protein bars in his desk drawer, as well as packets of instant noodles and canned tuna. The standard quick-fix lunch of the office rat. The second had a wide selection of herbal teas but nothing else, and the third only had cigarettes. She took the lighter with them but left the smokes and the teas.
A cupboard under the front window was home to stationery and personal belongings. One of the workers was a runner – she guessed probably not the smoker – and in one section of the cupboard was a daypack with a change of running kit and a pair of trainers on top of it.
Gemma took the trainers and socks downstairs with her, along with the food supplies, and showed them to Alex. He stopped taping his foot long enough to check them.
‘They’re a size too big,’ he said. ‘I’m only a nine.’
‘Try them on anyway,’ she said. She caught his look. ‘We can leave a note if you like and you can sort it out later. But your shoes are obviously no good for the amount of walking we’re doing.’
‘Let me sort this out,’ he said, obviously not wanting to argue. He turned his attention back to his foot.
‘I’m going next door,’ she said.
She repeated the process on the accountancy practice next door, finding nothing of any real use to them. The last stop was the investment adviser’s office, and there she struck gold.
Not only was there a snack box in the foyer, but the upstairs office had a wardrobe. Judging by the fold out sofa bed and the amount of clothes in the wardrobe, Gemma guessed that someone spent at least a couple of nights a week there.
She rummaged through the wardrobe and found a full set of casual clothes that were close enough to Alex’s size. She bundled them up and went back downstairs to the snack box. Crackers, cookies, chocolate and protein bars, candy, microwave rice and fruit sticks; it all went into a plastic shopping bag she found behind the receptionist’s desk.
‘Here,’ she said to Alex, dumping the clothes on the sofa beside him. ‘A rain jacket, T shirts, jeans, a hoody, a cap and shorts. And,’ she said, triumphantly holding up a pair of trainers, ‘size nines.’
This time he didn’t even argue.
By the time Alex had changed into the shorts and trainers, a new T shirt and fresh socks, Gemma had divided up the rest of the supplies. She downed a can of Coke and shoved another one into her day pack, along with bottled water and as much of the food supplies as she could fit. It was very full and heavy now and she heaved it onto her back.
Alex filled his own bag up and shouldered it, and dumped his old clothes into the bin.
‘Not much use to me now,’ he said, draining a water bottle and binning it as well.
‘Are you okay to go?’
‘Yep.’ He gave a firm nod. ‘Let’s go.’
Gemma opened the rear door, glancing back at him. ‘You coming?’
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘For looking after me.’
‘We’re looking after each other,’ she told him. ‘Now let’s get moving.’
Thirty-Eight
The van Dijks were home when we crossed the road and called on them.
The old man, Rusty – on account of his wiry red hair – answered the door in his slippers with a smile on his face. He was a rake of a man with a pronounced Adam’s apple.
‘Sho nice to shee you, Mark,’ he said with his heavy accent. ‘Where ish da little one?’
‘He’s at home,’ I said, shaking his hand. ‘You remember Rob?’
‘Of coursh, of coursh. Good to shee you, my friend.’
They shook hands too, then Sophie came out and kissed me on both cheeks. Rusty’s wife was one of those portly women who always wore two things – an apron and rosy cheeks.
‘Terrible newsh, ishn’t it?’ she said. ‘How ish Gemma doing?’
‘She’s still on the way home,’ I said. Her face fell. ‘But I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ I added quickly.
‘Come in, come in,’ Rusty said, ushering us into their lounge.
Framed photos of their kids and grandkids were everywhere and there was an old bolt action .22 leaning by Rusty’s armchair.
‘Been potting rabbits, Rusty?’ Rob said with a smile.
‘Shomething like that, yesh.’ Rusty squared his shoulders. ‘I shaw thoshe thieves at your houshe, Mark. I shaw you run them off.’
‘He did, you know,’ Sophie agreed. ‘He wash out there with hish rifle, ready to shoot those buggersh if they gave you any trouble, Mark.’
I turned to Rob. ‘Neighbourhood Watch, country style.’
We stayed and talked for a while, learning that the van Dijks planned on staying put and riding out the situation. Two of their kids lived in Auckland and the other was in Australia, and they hoped to hear from them soon. Having tried calling and texting Gemma earlier, with no luck, I didn’t hold out much hope for them.
Rusty walked us to the door and shook hands again.
‘Take care of yourshelfsh, you two. And dat little one. He’sh a cheeky one, you know.’ His eyes sparkled. ‘I never told you Mark, but I caught him pinching plumsh off my tree. He got such a fright, he thought I wash going to tell on him to hish dad.’
I smiled, because I already knew. It had happened a month ago and Archie had told Gemma the same day, asking her not to tell me.
‘I hope you tanned his backside and sent him home, Rusty,’ Rob said with a chuckle.
‘No, no, dere wash no need. I shent him on hish way and told him to come back tomorrow for shome more.’
‘Take care, Rusty,’ I said. ‘Pop over when you want, otherwise we’ll probably drop in again tomorrow.’
‘Keeping an eye on de old folksh, Mark?’ His eyes sparkled again.
I shrugged. ‘We all need to look out for each other right now,’ I said.
‘We do, we do.’ He clapped us both on the back and we headed off to the next house down from ours.
The Macklin house was set well back from the road and had large black wrought iron gates that were closed. They were a wealthy family and had a tennis court beside the house. The parents lived there with the youngest kid, the older one being off at university in Otago.
I couldn’t see any movement at the house, and hadn’t seen them for a few days. It was possible they were at their beach house, or maybe they were just hunkered down. If they were away the farm would have continued running anyway, with their workers who lived further down taking care of business.
A couple of horses in the front paddock watched us
as we rattled the gate and called out. One shook away a fly and blinked at us. The other took a dump. Neither seemed to be bothered by us.
‘Try them again tomorrow,’ Rob said.
I joined him at the shoulder of the road, looking both ways down the asphalt. No vehicles or people were in sight.
‘All quiet on the Western Front,’ Rob said.
I nodded. ‘For now,’ I said.
We headed back home, discussing what security arrangements we could make. The timber and other bits and pieces I had picked up from Mitre 10 hadn’t been put to use yet, but between us we had some ideas of what to do. The burglars and the incident at the cop station had hardened my resolve that we needed to be prepared for things to get much worse, and I was thinking of constructing a safe room of some sort.
I was explaining this to Rob in the shed when Archie ran in, interrupting the conservation.
‘Dad, someone’s coming up the drive.’
He tugged at my sleeve but I was already moving, Rob just behind me. From the shed door I could see a man and a woman walking towards the house.
‘It’s the neighbours,’ I said. ‘You guys wait inside.’
They weren’t openly carrying firearms, but I kept the Ruger Magnum on my belt just in case.
Brenton and Linda Rees lived further down the road, maybe half a klick away, on a small lifestyle block. Hobby farmers who both worked in Auckland, they drove the requisite SUV and kept chooks, because that’s what everyone in their circle did. I’d met them in passing a few times. They had two kids, both in schools down in Hamilton.
I met them at the top of the drive.
‘Boy, are we glad to see you,’ Brenton said with a relieved smile. We shook hands and Linda gave me a strained, nervous smile. ‘This is some strange times, right?’
I nodded. Strange was not quite how I’d put it. Strange meant you didn’t know what to make of it. I knew what to make of it, alright.
‘Sure is,’ I said. ‘How’re you guys getting on?’
‘We’re not too bad, we’ve not been to work though,’ Linda said.
I felt my eyebrows raise at that but I said nothing. It made sense to have allies at the moment rather than piss people off.
Picking up on my reaction, she added, ‘But we’ve got the kids home, so thank God they’re safe.’
‘Is Hamilton having the same issues as up here?’ I said, and Brenton nodded vigorously.
‘Hell yeah,’ he said. ‘We raced down there and got them, took us three hours to get to school and damn near five to get back.’
I knew it was normally about an hour each way. I quizzed them on what they’d seen down there and it was the same, but on a larger scale, as what I’d seen in Pukekohe – civil unrest. Roads jammed with people fleeing the city. Emergency services battling to cope. Stores emptied of goods. People fighting in the streets.
‘We even heard gunshots,’ Brenton said, giving an involuntary shudder.
Linda looked to him. ‘Which leads us here…’
He looked uncomfortable, but with his wife alongside, he had no choice but to ask.
‘Yeah, Mark…so, I know you’re a bit of a hunter…’ he said.
Linda nudged him with her elbow.
‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘I can’t see this thing getting any better soon, right? I mean, people were shooting down in Hamilton, and I’m sure Auckland will be the same, maybe even around here, right?’
You have no fuckin’ clue, I thought to myself. If only he knew what my day had been like, he’d shit his pants.
‘The thing is,’ he continued, ‘we might need to defend ourselves, right? I mean, I’ve got Linda and the kids, you know?’
‘True.’ I nodded.
‘And, you know, I mean I know you’re a hunter and all that…’
‘Spit it out,’ I said, tired of his fumbling. ‘What are you asking me?’
‘I don’t have a gun,’ he said, the words coming out in a rush. ‘I was wondering if maybe you’d be able to, you know…’
Linda was obviously as tired of it as I was. ‘Can you lend us a gun?’ she said. ‘At least until things sort themselves out? Please?’
The desperation and anxiety in their faces was very real, and I could understand why. These were average people caught up in a situation they were not equipped for. A situation they never dreamed would happen to them. They were not me.
Non-preppers had always thought of preppers as negative people, doomsayers who almost willed something bad to happen so they could run to their bunker, arm up and start eating freeze-dried meals.
The reality was far different.
Yeah, there are nutcases in every sector of society, but the difference between people like me and people like the Rees’ was that while they went through life with a happy smile on their face; I went through it with a happy smile on my face and one eye on the shadows.
I looked for the monsters because I knew they were there. I prepared for the unexpected because I expected it to happen sometime. None of that stopped me from living a good, happy life. But it did mean that right now, when shit was going down, I wasn’t caught short like these guys.
‘I mean, it’s not like we want to shoot anyone, right? But, you know…I mean, you’ve gotta be prepared, right?’
I murmured my agreement while I considered their request. Every gun I had was for a particular purpose. The .22 was for shooting rabbits and the odd feral cat that strayed across my path. The shotgun was for possums and ducks. The lever action Rossi was for anything mid-sized – goats or pigs, mostly.
The pistols I would be keeping quiet about – even though they had seen the Ruger on my hip – and they were strictly for self-defence, not assault. Rob’s rifle was his and I couldn’t speak for him.
The danger in giving a weapon to an untrained, unskilled amateur was that they were likely to hurt themselves or someone else by accident. Or use it as the first option rather than the last resort. But I did get where they were coming from, and they were right. If my neighbours were capable of defending themselves then that made us safer.
‘Wait here.’
I went inside and fetched the sawn-off Webley and Scott. I handed a box of #4 birdshot rounds to Linda, and showed Brenton how to break the weapon open. A quick lesson on safety and how to load, aim and fire and they were good to go. They thanked me over and over and promised to get it back to me.
‘Keep it,’ I said, ‘it’s not mine anyway.’
Brenton gave me a curious look. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘Don’t worry about it. You guys take care, I’ll come down and check on you in a day or two maybe, eh?’
‘Be careful,’ Linda grinned, trying hard to be jovial, ‘he’s armed and dangerous now.’
Brenton grinned too and hefted the shotgun in his hands. ‘That’s right, armed and dangerous, right?’
‘Just remember where you’re pointing that thing,’ I said. ‘And one more thing.’
They looked at me expectantly.
‘Don’t go telling anyone you got that from me, okay? I don’t want every man and his dog turning up here wanting me to help them.’ I looked from one to the other. ‘Are we clear on that?’
‘Sure, sure.’ They both nodded.
Rob and Archie sidled up beside me. Together we stood and watched them head off back down the driveway, Brenton holding the sawn-off shotgun carefully.
‘You sure that was a wise move?’ the older man said.
I hiked my shoulders. ‘Dunno. I hope so.’
‘He know what to do with that thing?’
‘More than he did.’ I turned to him. ‘I don’t think he’s any better shooter than my mother, Rob, but now he owes me a favour. That can’t be a bad thing.’
He gave a slow nod. ‘Fair enough.’ He shifted his eyes from the disappearing couple and looked me in the eye. ‘I suspect this thing, whatever it is, is going to mean more people will need to pick up a gun.’
I nodded my agreement.
&nb
sp; His tone softened and he swallowed. ‘I hope my girl makes it home safely.’
I nodded again. The twist of dread in my gut weighed heavy.
Thirty-Nine
Once Alex had sorted his feet out and got a comfortable pair of shoes on, they made good time. They were refreshed after a short rest and had food and water in their bellies.
Gemma had rearranged her gear again, making a bed roll with a tarp and blanket and securing that to the bottom of her bag. Having it across the top would have restricted her access to the top-opening bag, which she had refilled with her share of the food and water they had scrounged.
They had also stripped down the medical kit and taken the items they thought they were most likely to need, sharing them out between themselves and leaving the rest of the kit behind. She hoped they would be more mobile with one less bag to carry.
The Glock was tucked into Gemma’s waistband and the spare magazine was in her pocket.
Setting off from the suburban businesses they set a cracking pace that took them along the main highway of Ti Rakau Drive from Pakuranga to Botany. Traffic was heavier and it seemed to Gemma that the mood in the air was getting more tense.
Every gas station they saw had signs up, but the signs differed. The only stations that still had power had more than quadrupled their prices, but still had a queue a mile long. The other stations had cars coming in and ducking out again once they saw the signs stating NO GAS.
A brawl between two opposing groups outside a burger joint caused Gemma and Alex to run past, having no interest in getting caught up in a fight. Up ahead was a major junction with sets of shops on each of the four corners. It was busy on a normal day but today was chaos. The traffic lights were out and the roads were jammed, people trying to get in to the two supermarkets – Countdown on the northern side, closest to Gemma and Alex, and Pak’n’Save on the opposite side.
A pair of yahoos on pit bikes were racing around, weaving in and out of the traffic, taking the opportunity to smash wing mirrors off cars with pieces of pipe as they went past. A Police car was on the footpath across the road, both cops standing beside it wearing body armour and brandishing M4s. Watching what was going on, they made no move to intervene.
Early Warning (Book 1): Martial Law Page 17
