Diary of a Survivor 4

by Matt Pike

  We selected the University of South Australia campus as our replacement crime scene. It was actually a contender for bug-out location before we found the jail. It was across North Tce and nearly half a kilometre east - there was no way to connect it to the jail if we covered our tracks well enough. Fortunately, the weather was starting to turn in our favour as the rain picked up a bit. It would be doing a lot of the footprint covering for us. Not that it would do all the work, nor were we going to leave it to chance. Ye-jun and Asha headed out to cover the raiders’ tracks all the way back to the east side of the hospital, then headed south through the hospital precinct, across North Tce and into the uni campus, making sure to make as much as they could of any fresh ash to stomp in their trail.

  Nate and Mark lugged the bodies to the same location, trying their best to stick to cleared, ash-free paths. Eliza followed behind them, sweeping up any evidence they did leave. Once the two groups met up, they recreated the crime scene in an easy-to-spot location, then legged it back with Eliza on sweeping duty behind them.

  They were happy with their work and the only detail they couldn’t replicate was the blood. Hopefully, whoever finds them will either be too freaked out by the situation, or wanting to track us down that they won’t notice. I guess it was something we totally did notice because we had just had a first hand lesson in what a normal amount of blood is… I’m not sure I would’ve been clued in myself otherwise. Anyway, let’s just say if they don’t have any crime scene investigators in their crew, we might just pull it off. Hell, even if they do, by the time this weather does its worst, there might not be anything they can do about it anyway.

  While all that was happening, we hauled another two beams to the waypoint. We already knew we had spent our last night at the jail, there was no way we could stay now. Besides, these were the weather conditions we were asking for. It had to be now.

  The same crew then turned around another two beams, while those on crime scene cover-up duty started packing the last of the supplies in the hovercraft. After a quick rearrangement, it was decided the smaller beams and injured would get hovered down and the rest of us could carry backpacks while we dealt with the last two beams on the final run. By this point it was nearly dusk, which meant if the two Norwood folk weren’t missed yet, they soon would be. Thankfully, the rain was being our friend. It had pretty much decided to set in for the night.

  Steph was still on watch when she saw torch lights dancing in the distance, but it didn’t matter. By that time the beam crew was back, everyone else was standing around ready to roll. So, we said our silent goodbyes to the jail that had mostly hidden us away, prepared for one last hard slog to the waypoint, then left our life behind.

  *

  The hovercraft Nate was steering sounded like it was struggling, and about 400m short of the waypoint, it packed up. There was no obvious fix to the problem in the limited light. We ended up finishing the journey on the other two, unpacking, then returning to push it the rest of the way using the bumpers of the other two craft. It’s something we can deal with tomorrow.

  *

  March 1, 2015

  So, funny how things work. It’s the first day of March and we are on the march.

  Last night we made camp, dropped our loads, put up the tents, ate, then went to bed. Exhausted, but alive. There will be bonus points attached if they can’t trace our movements, or where we sheltered in our bug-out halfway house, but yeah, right now, alive is fine.

  There’s no real sense of what we’re heading into yet. I mean, we all know it’s going to be different and tough and without the finer things in life, but right now, it’s all about the epic task ahead in getting there.

  I’m the same: part feeling positive, part negative, part unsure. Not sure how to process all that. So, ya know, stay busy, I guess.

  I do know that after sharing a tent with Alyce and two others last night, I am super keen to get to the coast and build a shelter big enough that we can enjoy our private space again.

  *

  Over a dawn feed, we had a look at the third hovercraft. No one is still really sure what’s going on. The generator seems like it’s operating normally, everything seems connected normally, yet the fans aren’t working. Not sure if there’s some fried circuits in there or what the problem is. All I know was it was beyond me or anyone else to fix. This was a Jonesy problem and Jonesy was in no state to be tinkering. In fact, I was insistent nobody even tell Jonesy about the problem. If he hears about it, he’ll want to get stuck in and he’s in no state to fix anything but himself right now.

  Anyway, it’s a massive blow for our plans to get things done in a day, but I think we can still make it. It’s going to require a couple of extra up and back trips, but unless something unforeseen presents, that is manageable. Touch wood. Please note this wood touch. It genuinely happened. I totally touched some wood. Even though I have no idea why you have to touch wood.

  Where was I? Ah yeah, as for the third hovercraft, we’re just going to leave it covered up at the waystation until we can deal with it. If time and payload space permits, we’ll remove the generator and take it with us. That’s going to have a whole bunch of uses besides powering a hovercraft.

  Time was pretty critical once we’d made that decision. We’d soon packed a load and began the first of many journeys along our final leg of travel. I took the helm of Phoenix, with Steph and Mark on board, while Ye-jun and his crew of Asha and Nate followed in our wake. We were each packed to the brim, with one beam sitting across the top of each crew’s load.

  We still had the flagged path we’d set up from many weeks ago to guide us to the beach but, given we were on the River Torrens and it’s linear park that headed directly to the beach, we thought we’d try our luck along there first. We knew, if this path worked out, it would be the easiest and safest way beachside.

  It was more than that, though. Just like the beach, the Torrens had been reclaiming nature from the ash. The river, well, creek really, let’s be honest, was flowing. That sound alone does something to you. Running water - there’s hope in that. Beyond that, there was greenery starting to appear. Stumps of trees were somehow finding new life, while you could even hear the odd bird call. It was a pencil thin oasis in the ash - good for the soul.

  So, down the pencil we travelled. It was slow going on that first trip. Everything was new so caution was the key. There were bridge underpasses to negotiate, a few small but challenging locks, as well as the usual debris problem that a wasteland under ash can present.

  It was amazing. It really was. Beyond the running water and the spirit in the boat, it was just this sense of… I don’t know… the future… or nature... or something. Maybe it was the first time I felt at ease with this future. How do I explain that better? I was dreading this trip. The thought of leaving all the comforts that we’d built, or fighting to recapture at the oval, made me sick. It still does, to be fair. But on that first trip beachside I started to get a taste for the other side. I started to feel a part of me see how good the connection with the land and nature could be. It was the first time part of me was convinced this move could be not just about surviving, but something fulfilling at a whole other level.

  There were a few double backs after the debris along the pencil oasis had us in checkmate but, that aside, we managed a whole lot of pleasant cruising. We reached the point where the river widened again in the final run to the sea.

  That was enough to get a whoo-hoo from the crew of Phoenix, and a matching call from Phoenix 2 when they joined us a minute or so later. You could start to smell the sea by then, too. We waited until the other crew were alongside us and we cruised the rest of the journey side by side.

  Whatever I said about the trip down there, times it by 10 for the last leg of the journey. Bliss.

  We crossed under the final bridge and edged up on the shore before pulling up at the top of the ash and junk dunes that led to the beach. I could feel it all again, that soul injection that came with th
e wonder of seeing a world with no ash. I shared knowing nods with Ye-jun and Nate, who were with me on the last trip to the coast, then we took even more joy watching the others experience it all for the first time.

  We soon found ourselves in a six-person hug meets jumping celebration. It wasn’t far off what happened on our first visit - the sea can do crazy things to a survivor. It was the first time I’d seen Steph smile since the war, which gave me another layer of happiness.

  The similarities to the last trip didn’t end there, either. Asha was soon running down the dunes and onto the beach. Her shoes were off in an instant. The chase was soon on to be second.

  I’d forgotten how good a different texture felt (even if it was sand). I think it was calling to me too - just telling me how natural and right it was. I mean, I had these feelings once before - amazing feelings - but the moment we got back to the oval, life steered our ship in a different direction. The second taste was far better than the first. I wish I didn’t need the lessons in between to tell me that this is real… and right. I can’t say I felt a sense of belonging in that moment, but I certainly felt a connection. The sort that was powerful enough to tell me loud and clear I should never forget about that connection again. And I won’t.

  It must’ve been a good 20 minutes before we were any chance of directing the group back to the task at hand. I mean, it had to be done, but it’s a bit Grinchy to deny people the moment. Besides, I was too wrapped up myself to care. Things like this don’t happen too often these days; you’ve just got to suck in every damn piece of it. Being a beach veteran, plus knowing there was still a long day ahead, I wasn’t going to be sucked into going for a swim. I sure did enjoy watching the others go, though. Everyone except Nate dived in.

  The two of us took the opportunity to start scouting for the best site to drop our supplies. That also meant the spot we thought most likely to build our new home. The beach itself was a no-go, for many reasons beyond whatever the tide and wind could do to us, but we still wanted to be as close as we practically could. It didn’t take long to see the answer staring at us from a little further north. There was a part of the dune/rubble pile that was sitting proudly above everything else around it, providing a perfect shield from the sea conditions.

  We left the others to finish up their play time and went to investigate. We weren’t sure what caused this mound of ash to sit so much higher than the rest - some sort of debris snag when the tsunami rolled out was our best guess. But it didn’t matter. It stretched for nearly 80m along the line of the coast. At its peak, it was a good 4-5m metres above the surrounding landscape. It was just a perfect spot to start our seaside settlement.

  We were soon fully invested and starting to work out how we could use the beams in the environment to make the most of our new space. At some point the others joined us. They could see the plan as much as we could - we had our spot.

  We had soon pulled the Phoenixes up to the site, dumped the supplies and headed back.

  It was amazing how well Phoenix handled on the way back with, like, seven gazzilion tonnes less load to carry. The trip was just a reverse of the maze we travelled on the way down. It’s funny how quickly your mind remembers it all. Each dead end, all the lock work-arounds, it was getting close to second nature on the return trip. We must’ve done it in half the time.

  Back at the waypoint, which I think I can now officially call a waystation, everyone was waiting for us with load No.2. Each of them a little jealous of the beachside newbs who’d had a taste of sand and sea. Between that and the excitement around the site we’d found, well, there was a buzz in the air.

  I sat back from it all with Alyce in my arms, just watching all the interaction and hope. Belief was forming, you could feel it everywhere. I mean, there were still so many things to sort out, so many unknowns and, probably, things we should be very concerned about. But, above all of that, sat hope. We all believed in this thing and that was a good feeling.

  After a quick food refuel and reload, we headed beachside again. The trip was a repeat of the first, minus the moments of lost. Again, it was a massive time saver. We drove straight up to the build site and dropped our next load of supplies. This time, Nate and Asha stayed behind. They had the three tents we didn’t unpack last night, plus enough stuff to start the task of readying our site.

  That was the pattern for the relocation. We needed six trips to get the bulk of our gear down. We had Mark and Jessie replace Nate and Asha. After the fourth, we left them beachside to join the others.

  There was a refuel after we returned from trip four. Petrol, that’s something we would have to think about sooner rather than later, but that was a problem for another day.

  Anyway, by that time we were well into the afternoon and beginning our second to last load. Add another trip to bring Jonesy, Kelly and those looking after them, and we were cutting things fine to get down before last light. Still, with each trip, I started to see things come together on the beachside. By the time we’d landed the last of the beams there, the camp was already set up and a fire was burning nearby. The beach crew had also done some organising of the main structure. It was good enough to know when the final run was done, there’d be warm food and a bed waiting for me.

  The sun was low in the sky when the Phoenixes returned to the waystation for the final time. This was a far more delicate operation than the others. While Kelly was certainly looking far better and able to hobble around under her own steam, Jonesy was still in a bad way. He was still in a lot of pain and chewing painkillers like lollies when the time came to transfer him to the hovercraft.

  He did his best to bite back the pain, but it was hard to see him like that, doubly so when you felt each small movement of helping him was actually bringing him even more agony. It was the same with the ride west. Despite having plenty of materials to cushion his, erm, stump from the bumps the ride would bring, there was no escaping them. Each time Phoenix hit an incline or settled over stretches of rougher terrain, Jonesy felt it. It was hard knowing my driving was causing that.

  As a result, the final trip took nearly as long as the first. There was no hurry though; we had done it. I mean, when I thought about it, and I did for a fair chunk of the last trip beachside, what we’d done was amazing. Not just today, or yesterday, but all the steps along the way that led us to having a bug-out location at the jail and enough supplies to get started, plus the trip to the beach several weeks ago to give us the inspiration in the first place.

  A lot had gone right among all the things that went wrong to lead us to this point. But the game here is survival and it was no fluke we’d found another chapter to ours.

  That trip had so many things going on in my mind. Beyond trying to ease Jonesy’s pain through my driving (and often failing) and the thoughts around our hard-earned luck to be moving here in the first place, I had Alyce onboard with me, tending to Jonesy as she had spent a lot of time doing since his surgery. Her excitement at the trip mimicked mine on the first run that day. In fact, it may have been stronger, not having seen the sea yet.

  Seeing the look and hope in her eyes brought a smile to my face, but I realised that underneath I wasn’t sharing it on that trip. Maybe it was because it was my seventh run for the day, but more likely because it was the last. I could feel myself thinking more about what I was leaving behind, rather than what I was heading towards. Not sure why there was such a difference between that and the earlier trips, there just was.

  The oval was my masterplan. It was my dream that became reality, yet now someone else was enjoying it and I, well, I was heading to living rough on a beach. It all felt so unjust and unresolved. I knew I had to go back at some point. There were still answers I wanted. Maybe I’d never get them, but I knew I’d never fully be able to let this sensation go until I at least tried. It was at that point I started tying in my plan of replenishing the fuel supply with a secret return visit to the jail. There was no need to let the others know, though, this was personal.


  So, yeah, a lot was going on in my head on that trip. But, as we reached the wider stretch of river in the final leg of the run to the beach, I was finally able to let myself get caught up in Alyce’s excitement. It was a bit hard not to by that point. She was beaming. Hope and happiness gushing from every pore. There was plenty left over to start rubbing off on me.

  Jonesy was lost in his own battle. But even looking at him in that state, I knew we were making the best move for his chances at recovery. This was it. A new future was here.

  *

  March 2, 2015

  Exhausted. I can’t believe how drained I was when I woke up this morning, in every way.

  It was nice to finally get into camp last night and have everything set up. The campsite was laid out and there was fresh fish ready for dinner. I was too spent to contribute much to the conversation and was ready for sleep once the food had settled in my stomach and the sun had disappeared from sight.

  There was a little more comfort in the sleeping arrangements now all the tents were set up, but Alyce and I still had to share with Angie. It wasn’t too bad; Angie stayed with the group around the fire until well after Alyce and I had drifted off. Having those couple of hours with her was just what I needed for a reboot/recharge.

  Alyce has really made a good connection with Angie. I can see it making a big difference. She is climbing out of her dark place by helping others. Alyce is naturally drawn to that, I think - helping others. It fills a massive space in this camp. It’s a big part of what makes our community. She has just seen that chance to make a difference to everyone in the little things. While others are off doing this and that to build and create, the little things that build and create us are being taken care of by Alyce, aided and abetted by Angie.

  Anyway, Alyce and I were up early and returned the favour for Angie by going for a walk along the beachfront. That was something, well, beautiful. Alyce barely got a taste of the beach before the sun went down last night, so this was all but new. The morning weather turned it on as well. The ash seemed thin and you could sense the early sun on your skin. That is rare air - perfect.