Jim stepped up into the caravan, ducking his head as he went through the door, and looked straight to the kitchen table seat. Empty. His hands were trembling again. He really wasn’t very good at this kind of thing. He took a single step forward, not prepared to commit any further, and peered down the length of the van to the rear section, where two bunk beds sat on either side.
There was a shape on the lower right bunk.
Invisible spiders ran across Jim’s skin, and he had to fight not to turn and leave. He took the flashlight out from under his arm. It danced over the cupboards and floor. He kept it low, moving it gradually closer until it was at the base of the bunk, highlighting just enough for him to see her features.
Even in the artificial light Jim could see the sores on her face and the red rims of her eyes. Her hair looked matted and sweaty. Her body quivered, but she managed a weak, painful smile. Jim felt his voice catch in his throat as he said her name. “Alesia?”
Jim instinctively went forward, then remembered, and stopped a couple of metres short. He tried to smile back. “You’re sick.”
She closed her eyes and lifted the bottom of her shirt, revealing a wound, which may have been a bite or a slash. “But I was sick before that.”
“I’m sorry.” Jim wanted to ask about the girls but couldn’t force himself to say the words.
“You always said that too much.” She swallowed and her throat clicked. “It used to annoy me.” Jim looked down at his feet. “But,” she coughed, longer than average, and for a second or two, he wondered if she could stop. Then it cleared, and she said, “But I came to appreciate it after we separated.” Jim gave a slight nod. “Who contacted you?”
“Lana.”
“When?”
“About three hours ago.”
“They left. I made them. Apparently, they were headed for Port Arthur.”
“What’s there?”
“A camp of some kind where survivors are going.” She started coughing again.
Jim filed the information away for later. He was surprised to find he still possessed a lot of love for her. He had never wanted to separate, and before all of this, would have taken her back if she had asked. He felt it was a little ironic that in her final moments he would be the one here with her. He took a step forward and felt something on his shoulder.
“Don’t get too close,” Dan said.
Jim halted. He gave Alesia a look that said he was sorry. She was crying now, this woman who had taken his children, who had cheated on him and said things that had left him broken. But it was not his style to reflect on the bad things at a moment like this.
He knew there was nothing, but he said, “What can I do?” He wished there was somewhere she could be made healthy again. Thinking out loud, he said, “Maybe there’s some kind of treatment in Hobart or—”
“There’s nothing,” she said, sniffing, wiping her eyes. “Go and find the girls, Jim. They’re only an hour or so ahead of you.”
When she spoke this time, he noticed how cracked and dry her lips were. Jim took a plastic cup from the sink and filled it with water, then went forward without concern and placed it on the table between the bunk beds. He lingered, deciding whether to sit on the bed beside her.
Dan cautioned for a second time, “Not too close, Jim.”
Alesia shook her head softly. Tears coursed down her cheeks again. Jim felt his own eyes fill as he stepped away, wiping them with the back of his forearm. “I'm sorry it ended this way. I’m sorry you ended up like this.”
“There you go again, Jim.” She feigned a laugh and sat up a little. “This is not your fault. This,” she indicated herself and the caravan around her, “was never your fault. If I hadn’t left, things might have been different. But that’s on me.” She cleared her throat. “You’re a good man, and I know you’ll take care of our girls.”
Jim didn't wipe away the tears now. He imagined how difficult it would have been for them to say goodbye to their mother, and it broke his heart. Kids their age shouldn’t have to see a parent dying. Alesia seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she began sobbing harder. Jim ached to comfort her. He glanced at Dan, who shook his head again.
When Alesia had herself under control, she asked, “Can you leave me something? Can you help me finish it off?” At first, Jim thought she was asking him to kill her. She recognised the look on his face. “Not you. I’ll do it. I just need something. I don’t want to end up like those things wandering out there.”
He understood and would probably have wanted the same. He searched the kitchen and found a long-bladed knife. It seemed wrong, but he offered it out without saying a word, worried he would break down.
“Perfect.”
He placed it on the table beside the water and stepped away. Dan looked edgy, keen to leave, and Jim felt it too. He had to get after the girls. But it was hard saying goodbye to a woman he still loved, the mother of his children, and in Jim’s mind, still his wife.
“I still love you,” he said. “Always will.” He sobbed. The light shook. His eyes grew cloudy as the tears rolled down his face, and he couldn’t be there a moment longer. He pushed past Dan and leapt out the door, groaning and moaning and still sobbing. He stood bent over with his hands on his knees. The door closed a few seconds later, and then Dan had an arm around his shoulders, then they were walking back towards the main gate.
As they drove away from the Hamilton Caravan Park, Jim felt a level of sadness he hadn’t felt in a long time. Part of it was for himself and the fact he hadn’t worked harder to fix their broken marriage. But mostly it was for the girls, who had lost their mother. Such things were irreplaceable. He knew there were countless people in that same boat now. For those who might survive, there would be an endless number of lost souls. If somebody had asked him during the collapse of his marriage if he would ever feel a small amount of love for his wife again, he would have said never. The realisation that she was gone forever was stark. Perhaps, deep down, he’d been under the illusion that they might one day get back together.
They drove along the empty roads in the last moments before full darkness. Somewhere around Broadmarsh, Jim began to drift off the road. The car hit the strips on the side, making a harsh sound, and both men came awake.
“You’re falling asleep,” Dan said. “We should pull over and take some rest.”
“Bugger that,” Jim said, trying his phone again. But the reception was out. “Maybe the lines are down for good.”
When they reached a small town called Teatree, the road was blocked. Someone had parked a semi-trailer straight across the blacktop. To get a car around was impossible. Rock wall tapered down to the road edge on either side.
“Fuck it,” Jim said, thumping the steering wheel. “We’ll have to turn around.”
“How long to get back?”
Jim said nothing for a bit. Eventually, he said, “Maybe we should get some rest. I hate not catching up to the girls. Not knowing if they’ve made it.”
They fell asleep underneath a tree in a scratched-out spot on the highway where trucks might park to rest between long-haul trips. Jim only planned on resting an hour or two until his eyes weren’t heavy and he could keep the Territory on the road. That was the last thought before he fell into a deep sleep.
16
January 11, 2014
5:11 pm
Outside Railton, Tasmania
Mac felt a mixture of relief and anticipation now they were back in the car and driving towards Mole Creek. He took them down Railton Road, alongside the Mersey River and through the Warrawee State Forest where the scrub was thick and shadowy on both sides of the road. Mole Creek was their best chance of finding Jess. It seemed the logical place for people in the Latrobe area to go for safe haven. There were other options further south, but with Devonport and Launceston largely overrun, he felt a sense of rightness about Mole Creek. In an hour or so, Mac would have the most important question he’d ever had in his life answered.
Smitty sat silent, eyes ahead, shotgun laid across his lap. Mac knew he could count on his mate. It was nice to have somebody who had his back. This whole episode had woken a purpose in Smitty that warmed Mac’s heart. He was glad to see his old friend energetic again.
Ashleigh and Tyler were both falling asleep, heads resting on Shelli’s arms. She sat between them, intermittently wiping tears from her eyes. Mac couldn’t imagine how long it would take for her to get over Ken. If it turned out Jess were no longer with them, he didn’t imagine he’d have the same strength as Shelli. Mac shoved the thought away and applied a little more pressure to the accelerator.
As they came down the hill into Railton, the King’s Hall—established in 1926, according to a sign nailed above the door—greeted them on the left, while on the right, a picturesque white weatherboard with a charcoal roof promised the peace and tranquillity Mac had come to love about Tasmania. But he felt uneasy as they rolled on closer to town, passing a familiar green sign that suggested Sheffield was directly ahead, and that Kimberley and Elizabeth Town were left at the next intersection. As they crossed the railway line just before the town’s modest strip of shops, Mac spotted trouble ahead.
“Have that thing ready, will you?”
Smitty leaned the barrel up onto the edge of the window. Mac recalled Smitty taking pot shots while driving after he collected him from Dave-O’s place. When had that been? Days ago. It seemed like forever. “Try not to crack that off inside the car if you can help it. I’m worried my kids are going to end up deaf.” Smitty nodded.
From what Mac could see, an exchange was occurring outside the Railton Hotel, a long, two-storey building made from orange brick, and a green corrugated iron roof. A brief line of people were coming and going from a wide entrance underneath the hotel’s gabled veranda. Several cars were parked at right angles up on the curb, blocking most of the roadway. Mac slowed as he approached the congestion, noticing a vehicle approach from the other direction. Mac touched the brakes and waited.
A white Camry moved slowly past the parked cars. An elderly man who had to be eighty, and probably his wife, looked on with concern. He spotted Mac and brought the car to a stop beside them, drawing the window down.
“Howdy, sir,” the man said. “What’s going on here?”
“G’day. No idea, mate.”
The man nodded. “Where you headed?”
“Mole Creek.”
The man grimaced. “We just been there, and I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Mac shifted in his seat, glancing at Smitty. “Why is that?”
“We didn’t go inside, but from the outside, you can tell it’s pretty bad.”
“Define bad?”
The man glanced at his wife. “It’s the dead. They wander about the grass looking for… I don’t know what. They kneel on the ground and eat each other. They stand at the fence peering out at us.” He shivered. “Horrible, just horrible to see those people like that.”
The man’s wife leant over. “We had some friends who went down there. They suggested we join them, but when we arrived, it was overrun with those things.”
Mac scratched the top of his head. “And the whole place is like that?”
“We’re not sure. We drove up Garrick Road and tried that entrance.”
Mac’s lips felt dry. If the place was so badly overrun, what did that mean for Jess if she was there? “What about the military? They set up the place. I assume they’re still manning the perimeter.”
“We saw military trucks parked all over the place, but they were empty. A couple of the soldiers were infected, too.”
“Jesus.” He glanced at Smitty, who only stared ahead, his brow furrowed.
“You have someone down there?”
“I’m not sure. I was separated from my wife. We thought she might have gone to Mole Creek.”
“Well, if she has, I hope she got out. Or, she’s tucked up safe inside. It’s a big place. Lots of green tents. You never know.”
Mac wasn’t familiar with the layout, but if it was a large site and there were enough places to hide, Jess might have found somewhere to avoid the infected. Maybe it wasn’t hopeless.
“…sir?” Mac shook loose from his thought. “I said are you going to check the place out?”
“Yeah, we will. Where are you guys headed?”
The man looked off into the distance. “We’re going to head out west. See what we can find.”
“Well, take care of yourselves. And thanks for the information.”
Mac let the car roll forward and snuck between the rear of one of the parked vehicles and the curb. As he steered the Nissan back towards the centre of the road, a middle-aged lady wearing a long, loose fitting t-shirt and baggy tracksuit pants stopped in front of the car, forcing Mac to brake.
“You people get out of here!” she screamed. “Taking our food and drink.”
Mac didn’t know what to say. She hobbled around to the side window where Smitty lowered the shotgun off the edge of the window, of sight.
“Go on, get out of here!”
They drove on out of Railton, where more uninfected people packed cars and secured their houses. Mac and the others hadn’t seen so many for some time. That gave Mac some hope. Sheffield Road dipped and rolled on, the ferns and gum trees pushing in close to the edge of the highway. As Mac reviewed what the old couple had said, he realised he hadn’t even asked exactly where they were headed. The information about Mole Creek had muddied his focus.
“What do you think?” he asked Smitty as they drove through the Sheffield Berry Gardens and took a left turn at the intersection of Sheffield Road and Birdie Track Road.
“Tough one, mate.”
“Truth is, I’m dragging you all around the place, looking for Jess when I don’t even know if she’s down this way.”
Smitty looked across. “Got nothing better to do.”
“But what if we get down there and she’s not there? We keep looking, searching, and can’t find her? We could have stayed up north and probably been safer. Doing this, I’m putting you all in more danger than necessary. Jesus, Kenny got killed.”
“I don’t think it matters where we go, to be honest. Even if we’d stayed up north, mate, we’d have the same problems.”
Smitty was right. Mac knew that. But he couldn’t let go of the fact it might have been different. And what if Jess had tried to go home and nobody was there?
“I’m sorry to say, mate, but you might have a bigger problem on your hands.” Mac raised his eyebrows. “What if we find her at Mole Creek? Sounds like the place is a fucking mess.”
Mac buried that thought. The town of Sheffield lay ahead, and to avoid another potential roadblock or worse, he took a left off the main road. He knew Claude Road ran out of Sheffield, and he wanted to meet up with it further out of town. Dust plumes floated off the gravel road, and Mac drew up his window as he took the Nissan along at a moderate speed.
“My question to you is, should we be even going to Mole Creek? If it’s as bad as these people said, we’re just going into more trouble.” He glanced into the rear-view mirror. Both kids had their eyes shut; Tyler had his head back and mouth open. They were exhausted. Shelli had her eyes closed too, but Mac suspected that was more about trying to escape the horrific memories of the last twenty-four hours.
“I think it still makes sense,” Smitty said. “Mole Creek is the closest military site this side of Hobart. We need to check it out for ourselves. Besides, what else are we going to do? Sit up there and wait for the government to get their asses into gear? That won’t happen anytime soon.”
“I guess we can decide after that.”
They reached the left turn back onto the main highway and took it without another car in sight. He wondered about the half a million people in Tasmania. If ninety percent were sick, infected or dead, that left about fifty thousand on the island who needed help. He wondered how many had gone to Mole Creek. They would soon find out.
17
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January 11, 2014
5:00 pm
Latrobe, Tasmania
At least we’ve got a plan, Juliet thought. A rough idea of how they might escape. It was all about opportunity now, maximising their chances if the occasion rose. Even if they were still one thing short of pulling it off. They would have to rely on a bit of luck to get them over the line.
Whispering, Juliet said, “Okay, let’s go through it again. Lory, tell me what we discussed.”
Sitting with her back to the wall of the tank, Lory stretched her legs out and dropped her hands into her lap. In a noisy voice, she said, “Next time we get out—”
“Not so loud,” Juliet cut in. “We don’t know who’s out there listening.”
Lory made a face as if to scold herself, then started again in a quieter voice. “Sorry. Next time we get out and are taken towards the front area of the dump, you’ll make a break for the fence where it’s damaged and open it up, using some of the tools the men left behind so the infected can get in. They will overrun the site and kill all the bastards holding us captive, and we’ll escape unharmed.” She smiled.
“With a bit of luck,” Juliet said. “Stay away from the infected, of course. We have to be ready in case something goes wrong. Hopefully, the men will be too preoccupied to worry about us. That should give us a chance to escape through the opening in the fence.”
“What are you going to open the fence with?” Meg asked. Her tone was accusatory.
“We need tools. There’s a toolbox near the fence. The men left it there.”
“I saw some iron pipes sticking out of the ground behind that building we ran past with Bill. I mean, Skoota.” Jess smiled, thinking of the older man.
Juliet had not thought about Skoota since earlier that day. Part of her was waiting for his return with some form of cavalry. But with each passing hour, it seemed more unlikely. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he’d be true to his word, but there were plenty of things out there to prevent him from getting back.
“Look, we have to keep our eyes open. There will be something out there we can use. While the men are still working on the fence, I’m banking on that toolbox having something in it.”
Invasion of the Dead (Book 5): Resolve Page 11
