by DB Daglish
It was mid morning when Janet was called by her daughter on the ridge. Below a person could be seen walking alone, away from the city. But yet, that was not unusual - lone travelers had been spotted before in years gone by. There was only one and no others could be seen further south, even with their powerful telescope. The following day was rather dull and chilly. Michael had volunteered to go to the watching point alone, taking water and food with him. All morning he scanned the road and as the sun came out he dozed a little. But he had fallen asleep, not for long but he was disappointed in himself for doing so at all. Quickly he scanned the road toward the city but movement below caught his eye. Putting the binoculars to his eyes he saw a group of three people walking slowly north. He looked back toward the house to see a tiny wisp of smoke from the house. It was probably not enough to attract any attention and he scanned the road south once more. This time he saw another group, then more and still more. He counted them and rushed back to the house.
“Douse the fire,” he said. “People are on the road!”
“How many?” asked Danielle.
“Lots. Where is Forty?”
“Down with the pigs I think.” At that he rushed out the door as Danielle tipped water over the fire.
They could see Michael running toward them and they left the pen. They knew what it meant.
“People on the road?” Janet asked.
“Yep, three groups! The biggest still back around Wandong.”
“That’s a day’s walk away. How many?”
“Thirty or so. The other two groups are about ten or so each. A lone walker is on the road below us now.”
“Well - the flight has started!” Forty said. “There is a virus or something killing people, or so many would not leave at one time. And if there are fifty now, there might be two hundred tomorrow. If they are infected we cannot stay here in case we are found and if it’s wind-borne…” and he stopped. The comment hit home and the solution was obvious.
Immediately they walked to the house and prepared the horses, saddling and watering them and then loading the packhorses with the prepared supply bags. They had a final meal, filled their personal water skins, loaded their rifles and side arms and set the animals free - all of them! Climbing into the saddles they sat there silently for a while. Michael could clearly see a deep sadness in their eyes for this was a beautiful place, but indeed they could not risk any form of contact with many more expected to come their way.
“I’ll miss this place,” he said quietly as he gazed toward the grave of his son under the trees. They had said their goodbyes just before their last meal and with Danielle openly weeping, they turned the horses down the road and to the valley below. Blue, their dog trotted happily alongside them.
Staying within the cover of the trees, they crossed the east-west road at the base of the hill, following the river until they came to the railway tracks that crossed the river leading into Seymour. Checking both ways with binoculars to be sure that there was no one able to see them, they quickly crossed the bridge and entered the town. Following the rail tracks they passed all the way out of the town until they crossed the main road north to Sydney. Here the horses were hidden in some trees and Michael and Forty checked the road on both sides, able to see a few kilometers down the road in either direction. This was important because once they passed under the bridge and stayed beside the rail-line, they would be in full view of anyone on the road if they could not get far enough away to be out of sight. Indeed the rail-line followed close to the old highway all the way north. If they could ensure they were ahead of everyone else from Melbourne that they wished to avoid, something that the speed of the horses would enable them to do, they could then stay with the roads and in the open where it was easier to walk.
Michael reported he could see a group of four, far away to the south on the Hume Freeway. If they began now at an easy trot beside the lines they could be well out of sight before those on the road would be anywhere near the bridge.
“If it was three then it’s the first group I saw and they have moved slower than I imagined. But if it’s four then the second group has moved faster and the other three are ahead of us,” he said aloud as he was thinking. “And there is still that lone traveler from two days ago. He is the only one we are sure is ahead of us!”
“No time to lose then,” Janet agreed, turned her horse north, and began a slow trot towing on the packhorses behind her. She was many meters away before the others realized she was not going to wait for them and they raced to catch up with her. Only Michael was the least comfortable in a saddle, but his horse was patient with him and before long he was cantering alongside everyone else on the grass beside the tracks. They kept this pace up until the next town where the horses were watered and allowed to graze. By nightfall they had passed three more small townships and camped for the night under the rail bridge near the lake at Benalla.
Shortly after lighting a campfire, a man appeared out from the shadows. Instantly, weapons were pointed in his direction.
“Stay back!” yelled Forty
“Steady on mate. I‘m harmless,” he said.
“Where are you from?” Forty asked as he kept the rifle aimed at the man’s belly.
“Melbourne!”
“I think I saw you two days ago?” Danielle said. “You were nearing Tallarook!”
“You were up on the hill then?” he asked.
“How did you know?”
“I could see the sun glint off something. I guessed I was being watched. After the madness back there in Melly, I’m happy not to be in anyone’s way.”
“You are aware of the outbreak? Well, is their actually one?” Michael asked.
“Yep. People are dying everywhere. I’m running in case I can escape it.”
“Well, so are we. Stay where you are - downwind of us. You cannot join us as we can’t take the risk, if you are infected.”
“All I want is some food,” he pleaded.
“If we give you some will you leave us? If we have escaped any disease, it will give us a better chance of survival - in case you have not!”
The man nodded and in response Janet threw a small bag toward him which he caught cleanly.
“There is some pork in there too,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said as he turned to leave.
“What’s your name?” Danielle called after him.
“Carl,” he said as he turned.
“Then good luck Carl,” she said, and he smiled and disappeared into the darkness.
“Damn. The poor guy is on his own. But we have to be careful. If the wind had been the other direction that could have been enough. It’s going to be tough to do this if others catch up with us.”
“But he was the only one we had seen leave the city,” Danielle pointed out. “That means there is no one in front of him!”
“But I arrived two days before Carl was seen by Danielle,” Michael added. “What if others came before me? It is unlikely, but we cannot assume anything! If indeed I am not infected then I want to stay alive. If I haven’t escaped it, then we are all quite possibly dead already and for that I apologize!”
The statement sunk home and they were all aware that fate would dictate their life over the next two weeks or so.
“It’s alright Michael. It is not your fault even if it is true. So let’s just sleep and tomorrow we’ll put some more miles between us and those following.”
By early morning they were quietly riding through the town to where the houses thinned and open farmland began to appear before them. The north wind was in their faces and the sun shone bright that day when a call came from up a side street. There, stood Carl, waving his arm. They waved back and he went back inside a house and that is the last they ever saw of him.
Not far away, the rail tracks met the double lane highway and here they crossed over the grass median between the lanes. No one could be seen in either direction and for now they seemed to be in no rush. Even the walking p
ace of horses would maintain their lead ahead of those in flight on the roads behind them. The horses were watered at the next township, and shops and homes were raided for whatever food they could find that were edible; after all, they needed to keep their personal supplies for places where food might be scant or where the towns would be a day ride apart.
It now was the seventh day on the road without pause. Turning off the road, they stayed at an old hotel for a day to rest the horses and themselves. The old water tank was still full from recent rains and clean enough to shower under - once holes were shot in the bottom. The guys went first and then ventured out to explore, while the two women showered in privacy.
Climbing the hill behind the hotel they took the telescope and sat on the summit to watch the road. They could see as far back as an estimated fifteen kilometers, yet no one could be seen following. To the northeast there was no activity either. At this stage it seemed as if they were truly all alone – and hopefully safe.
Below them they could see the women were now finished. Danielle was riding one of the horses along the road to where a dust road began toward the hill they were on. They could see her before she went between the trees and waited for her to reappear, but a minute or so passed with no sight of her. Assuming she had seen something interesting the two men walked down the hill to investigate. Jumping a dirty creek they climbed across a fence and approached the small building at the roads end. Further down, Forty could see the horse standing over his daughter.
Yelling her name, he ran as fast as he could to where she lay on the ground. Inspecting her, he found a bruise to her head but could get no response from her. A quick glance toward the horse revealed it limping and nervous. As he reexamined his daughter a shot was heard close by. Forty jumped in fright to see Michael standing over a brown snake. Now it all made sense.
At that moment Janet arrived and she screamed assuming someone had shot Danielle and looked at Michael holding the pistol.
“No Janet, a snake…” and he pointed to the dead reptile in the grass.
“Oh God,” she said, “Is she hurt badly?”
“Not anymore,” Forty replied grimly as he stood to his feet. “She’s dead Janet!” Tears came to his eyes as Janet tried to scream - but no sound came out. Michael felt awkward and touched her shoulder but she shrugged him off and then pushed Forty away, throwing herself on her daughter and began shaking her, screaming at her to wake up.
“How can a snake kill that quickly?” she screamed.
“It wasn’t the snake!”
“Well, what was…” and then she realized her daughter had fallen and broken her neck. Death then, was instantaneous.
Michael left, leaving them to their grief and at the hotel he found a shovel in the sheds at the rear and began to dig a hole. He was halfway done when they arrived back, carrying their dead daughter and leading the hobbling horse. Forty took her inside while Michael continued until the hole was at least a meter deep. It took a while, but the intensive activity helped him deal with his own grief, for he had never told them that Danielle was the spitting image of his sister.
When he finished digging, he stood under the trees to cool off and waited until they returned, the body wrapped in a sheet.
No words were spoken, for they had been said inside, and it was Janet herself who shoveled the dirt over her daughter’s body, not stopping until she should see nothing but orange soil. Turning she handed the shovel to Forty, but Michael came and took it off him and nodded his head toward Janet. Forty out his hand on Michaels shoulder and nodded.
“Thank you my friend.”
The horse was now beginning to show signs of pain and finally they found the snakebite. Taking the saddle from it he led the horse into the grass area and put a bullet in its head. Within the hour they were on the road again. They remained silent until the next stop at nightfall where they pitched two tents at a rest stop area.
For two further days they slowly trekked north, yet another of the packhorses became lame and Forty set it free.
“Maybe in time it will recover,” he said as he did not have the heart to shoot it.
As they began to move away it tried to follow, but only being able to hobble, it was left far behind after several minutes. Now they were down to four horses and the supplies were evenly spread between all the animals. At this point they began walking to give the horses some much needed relief.
Three days later they arrived at the coast near Wollongong. Now yet another horse was set free as it stumbled and hurt itself. They had chosen the coast road just to be near the sea; as for any other reason. While traveling out as far out as the Coast Guard station on the point, and to their surprise, they saw smoke far up the coast. Here they made camp for the night, allowing the horses to roam free for a change. Inside the tents they discussed the day.
“The smoke? Do you think it is human made or just a bushfire?” Michael asked no one in particular.
“It’s Sydney. There must be survivors there, but as to what caused it…?” Forty shrugged.
Suddenly a commotion occurred outside and the horses neighed frantically. Blue was barking and the men scrambled outside with weapons to find a small pack of dogs harassing the horses. One had two dogs attached to one of its legs and the other two horses had bolted down the beach. Quickly Forty dispatched two dogs and Michael a third before they realized humans were anywhere near. A fourth was wounded as it ran away, a long shot from Forty winging it before it ducked out of sight up the road.
“Damn. We haven’t had dog trouble all trip. Now we’ve lost another horse,” he said as he examined yet another lame animal. ‘By the way, where’s Blue?”
Their own dog had hidden himself in the bushes and now appeared, but only because Forty had come out of his tent. He left the injured horse to hobble about and headed down to the beach in the fading light. It took half an hour or so to find one of the other horses, but the third one was nowhere to be seen. All night the two horses were tethered and guarded and by morning they proceeded north once again. Taking the coast road had been a mistake. They had no idea it was twice as long, windy and hilly and by the end of the day the injured horse could travel no farther and they camped for the night. By morning it was no better, and this time they put the animal out of its misery. If they hadn’t done that, the dogs would have taken her anyway.
This trip had been a nightmare, and Janet was occasionally having ill thoughts toward Michael but did not let him know it; for she knew he was not at fault. However she needed something to hate for the circumstances they were in. Guessing her thoughts he asked a question as they walked further into the south of Sydney and toward the airport area.
“Janet?”
“Yes Michael?”
“If I had not arrived, and you knew nothing of the situation in Mello, do you think you would have avoided any contact considering you had fires burning often?”
Forty looked at Michael and then his wife. He knew the question needed asking and her answer would reveal whether Michael stayed with them any longer. But no answer came and they continued to walk and lead the one remaining horse, eventually arriving at an intersection with a very long road all the way to the coast. There was still a wisp of smoke from that direction and without any discussion they turned toward it.
“Ah, Cronulla!” declared Forty as he pointed to a sign. “A very hollow and dangerous surf spot at Shark Island just off the beach,” he said remembering pictures from old surfing magazines many years ago.
They were very tired when they arrived at the beach, taking a quick dip in the ocean before finally noticing the faint wisps of smoke coming from further back. A few blocks south they discovered several burned out houses. The whole peninsula appeared blackened as if after a bush fire. As they came into the open, they discovered a garden area, perfectly tended along with evidence that the fire had started at a group of house next to it.
“People lived here recently. Would they leave the area just because of a fire when there
are so many houses still standing?” Michael pondered.
“Doesn’t make sense,” Forty agreed.
“They set the fire!”
“Nah, why do that?”
“No look. There are some fuel containers!”
Indeed there were some red plastic fuel cans on the grass, untouched by the fire.
“This is no accident then. But a fire would bring attention, so why is there no one here?” Forty questioned.
“They would have found us anyway!”
Both the men turned around to see Janet was looking at the houses, and had voiced her thoughts. She now looked direct at Michael. “I am sorry Michael. You are right. They would have found us anyway!”
“But to be sure, how would they have done that?” he asked her.
Her finger pointed to all the buildings that now lay in ashes.
“The fires. We saw the smoke from a long distance away. Every day we had fires going. We would have been discovered eventually because of it. It is not your fault,” and she hugged him. “Forgive me?”
“Yes. But I hope you can forgive me?”
“What for?”
“I have not felt well the last two days Janet. I hope it is not for the reasons I believe it is?”
“Destiny has its own path Michael. You cannot flee death forever,” was all she would say.
For two weeks they explored the southern beaches, scavenging now they had run out of the food supplies they brought with them. One day smoke covered the harbor and it appeared a large bush fire was occurring on the north side. Working their way along the bays they found the harbor bridge and crossed it following the apparent origins of the smoke. By now Michael was in a bad way. Forty and Janet felt okay but were not of sound mind due to a lack of good drinking water since leaving Cronulla.
