Apocalypse Diary of a Survivor [Book 1]

by Matt J. Pike

  Brad had lathered the crowd into a frenzy preaching things like, ‘taking what was rightfully theirs’ and ‘survival of the fittest’. It was all getting a little ‘crazy cult’ for my liking. But, again, it was one of those car crashes I couldn’t turn away from. I’d pretty much decided to tag along to see what was gonna become of all this. But I also decided to hang at the very back – the very, very back.

  So with Brad starting to call the shots the plan took on a more military approach. He had this idea in his head of splitting people into groups and targeting both exits of the Norwood shopping centre. The group at the rear lane entrance would stop people getting out and he and the rest of the group at the front entrance would force the officials into letting them in to take ‘their share’ of the food and water available.

  The groups were split up according to strength and weaponry and then weighted 2-1 in favour of those heading to the front entrance. Mia was in charge of those covering the lane entrance while Brad, Anthony and another guy called Josh (a friend of Brad’s) were in charge of ‘negotiating’ at the front entrance.

  When they came to assigning me they ummed and ahhed for a while about whether I should even go on account of my age and physically lacking form. I think the fact I was carrying a rather large backpack to help carry supplies back was the reason I got asked to come – although I was ordered onto Mia’s team. Probably the safest result to be honest.

  After a few pump-up chants and famous last words we were on our way.

  The walk to Norwood was so different to last time. Gone was the sense of wonder and feeling of being part of some Hobbit-like journey; all of that was replaced by anticipation and the fear of what was going to happen. It just felt like it was going to be big. But I don’t think too many others shared that feeling. There was a lot of geeing each other up and singing. I started to wonder how well I knew these people after all!

  It was interesting to note how many of our group had made their own pair of ash shoes. People were adapting to the conditions and it meant the walk was done in less than half the time as before. Instead of taking Portrush Rd all the way up to the Parade, this time we turned down Beulah Rd. I assume the thinking was the side streets would attract less attention. When we got to the laneway behind the shopping centre we peeled off to the back entrance while the larger group headed on to the Parade.

  Mia had some kind of heavy duty CB radio she was using to keep in touch with the other group. We gathered around the bottom of the steps to the entrance and waited. The glass entrances were boarded up so we couldn’t see what was happening inside, but there was enough of a gap to see some sort of light leaking out. They had power. It was a pretty eerie feeling, waiting there. It was cold and the wind was blowing. Ash was everywhere, but I’m not sure if it was falling from the sky or being picked up from the piles on the ground. Everyone was nervous. And the cold made us cling together like penguins. We all looked at Mia and her radio and waited for an update.

  The wind and ash meant the signal on the two-way was scratchy at best and it also meant other noises were hard to pick up. That was good and bad – unless someone walked through the entrance door we could stay undetected, but if trouble started out the front and none got to the two-way radio we might not know.

  We waited and waited.

  Then the two-way burst into life and a bunch of inaudible pandemonium blasted through. No one was quite sure what to do or how to react. I looked at Mia for direction, but she was busy trying to get the other group back on the two-way. Seconds later the shopping centre door burst open and a bunch of people ran for us. I can’t remember how many but it was at least a match for our numbers. I remember hearing people screaming, seeing shots fired and watching one of their guys bury a shovel so far in the side of someone’s neck he couldn’t pull it out again. Then one of our guys hit the shovel guy with a cricket bat and he dropped to the floor.

  It all happened within seconds. I was frozen to the spot just watching like it was a movie or something. What a dumbass. Then some object fizzed past my head at high speed and seconds later a splattering of someone else’s blood flung across my chest – that helped me snap out of my imaginings.

  I didn’t know whether to run away or jump in and try to help. Then some old guy from our side (who’s name I can’t remember) pushed me back and yelled at me to get the hell out of there. I just looked at him, maybe still a bit stunned. He clearly thought I needed further instructions coz he told me to go back and prepare the school for the injured. So in the end I didn’t have any choice to make at all… I left. Maybe the old guy knew that – knew I needed a reason. Either way, thank God I left.

  When I was a safe distance away, I turned back to see what was happening. It was bloody and ugly and violent as hell – again I just stared at it all. Then another bunch of the Norwood crew burst through the door – maybe 20 or so more. I knew our guys were screwed. I kept watching but backed away as I did. Some skinny little prick who was hanging around the outskirts of the pack firing in bullets every now and then lifted his head up and noticed me. He lifted his gun in my direction and I turned and shuffled my sled shoes as fast as they could go. I heard three bullets whip through the air around my head but didn’t get hit. I just charged my ass to the corner as fast as I could go and turned out of sight. Then I sprint-shuffled to Beuller Rd and kept the pace up until I reached Portrush Rd. It was only then I turned around to see if anyone was following me – luckily I was in the clear.

  I felt so helpless and scared shitless. I’d witnessed total carnage… of people I knew. For all I knew I was the only one still alive. I just sat down on the ash and caught my breath while I figured out my next move. I wasn’t sure whether to go back and see if I could help anyone, or stay and wait to see if anyone headed back or go back to Trinity Gardens. I decided to wait on the corner and see if anyone else came back. I thought about what I would do if I had to go back alone… and what I would say.

  I waited for what must’ve been 20 minutes before it occurred to me if someone did come back this way they would be within metres of me before I could recognise them. If they were one of the Norwood crew, and armed, I’d be dead before I knew it.

  I left.

  I think I cried all the way back to the school. It was a mix of the high emotions, the things I’ve seen and the senseless waste. Why didn’t I raise my voice at the idea of going down to Norwood guns-blazing when I knew it was stupid? What I would tell the rest of the community? So many things. But most of all was the guilt that I’d just left them there to die.

  Remembering what I said when I got back to the school is kinda fuzzy. I recall a bunch of people hoarding around me when I walked into the gym. I must’ve looked like death warmed up – crying, exhausted, shivering, blood-splattered and lost. They start firing question after question at me and I think I said something like, ‘It was a massacre, I think I’m the only one who got out’.

  There was screaming and anger and swearing. Someone – some lady – pulled me out of the craziness, took me aside and calmed me down for a while. She put a blanket over my shoulders, gave me a cup of warm soup and put her arm around me. I remembering calming down a bit, catching my breath at first, collecting my thoughts and then trying to put into words what I saw and knew.

  Thinking back now, I don’t have the first clue what I told her. I think I’m gonna stop writing now. I can’t add to the story and I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I hate this place.

  ****

  Monday, May 13, 2014

  9.30am: I know I should go back to the school to see if there’s any news on the others and perhaps give a more detailed account of what I saw, but I can’t be bothered. Actually, not I can’t be bothered, more like, I really don’t want to go anywhere near that place. I’m not in any hurry to relive the things I saw or the guilt I feel. So I’m just gonna hang here and do some healthy wallowing.

  1.30pm: I tried just chilling out with some movies or a game or two, but nothing was doing
it for me. It kind of feels like a puerile waste of time, which is really weird because I’m perfectly well aware it is (and has always been) a puerile waste of time, but that’s never mattered before.

  Reading wasn’t cutting it either – and music was either too sombre or way, way too chirpy.

  I ended up trawling through some of the stuff I had downloaded in the days leading up to impact day. I filed a mass of print-outs in folders and gave them labels. I now have folders for making stuff, survival stuff, food and water preservation/generation etc. A lot of print-outs weren’t appropriate anymore so I set them aside to burn. While I was sorting through all that info I finally got back around to watching a few episodes of the Doomsday Preppers show I downloaded pre-rock. It was interesting viewing as you get to see a bunch of different American people/families preparing for one global disaster or another. I guess they could have appeared a little crazy to those watching the show a few weeks back… I know who’d be laughing now.

  I didn’t realise ‘prepping’ – preparing for an apocalyptic event – was such a popular pastime. It’s hard to believe there was this massive sub-culture I’d never heard of. And these people didn’t muck about either. They had food supplies, bug-out plans (often including a second form of accommodation to flee to), enough rations to last from several months to several years and guns… serious arsenals of guns!

  It’s funny how your perspective change. When I first saw an episode pre-rock I just dismissed the whole idea of needing weapons as an American thing. I mean don’t they have just about one weapon per person in the entire country? Of course you’re gonna wanna pack heat in a post-apocalyptic US. But I thought it would be different here. I never even considered weapons as being a necessary part of survival – not here, not little ole Adelaide!

  But sure enough, here we are. I’m in a house surrounded by properties where people have been murdered. I witnessed a shootout of Tarantino proportions not 2km from here and now I’m feeling totally exposed for underestimating one massive part of a survivalist’s needs – protection.

  I mean, I’ve got some things together. The bow and crossbow are good at medium range (but they’re not the easiest things to carry around and they’re certainly not concealable). I’ve also got a few knives but, at the end of the day, I don’t have any competition for a gun. Maybe it was a mistake not to focus on finding a firearm pre-rock but, really, what could I do? I mean, I don’t know the rules in Australia for getting a gun but I’m pretty sure it’s tough (and impossible at 17). But I think I have to acknowledge the oversight – bad move me.

  I guess it goes to show no matter the culture, when you start taking away people’s ability to get basic food supplies, when they can’t feed their families, then all bets are off. Welcome, me, to the sad but true reality of humanity.

  A limited few preppers on the show decided they didn’t need weapons either – I wonder if they’re still alive?

  It was also interesting to hear each of them had an imagined scenario for what was going to bring about the end of civilisation as we know it. Not one of them had asteroid/comet strike. In some cases it wouldn’t have mattered. If they had time to get to their underground bunkers they’d be all fine and dandy now, apart from cabin fever. But most of them will be in strife, given what type of disaster they were planning for. Those preppers who imagined financial meltdown (of which there were a lot) and other non-environmental catastrophes were planning for the wrong event. Sure, they’d have a food source for some time and an arsenal of weapons to protect it, but in most instances their energy source was solar… not so helpful now.

  It just makes me think back to those last reports from the US. The civil unrest then was already at breaking point. I wonder how much further it’s degenerated. It would be very interesting to know. I mean, there’s economic collapse, complete breakdown of food and utility supplies, and out-of-control social unrest but they still have their cities intact and their hierarchy of government and military in place. How long can all that survive without the money or food to support it, given the shipload of privately owned weapons available? I think chaos will win. It has to. Maybe it already has.

  One of the preppers talked about two kinds of people in the post-apocalyptic world – marauders and community types. The marauders would roam around, heavily-armed, seeking to take from the communities. And it would be a battle between the two as to who won. I’m not sure it’s totally like that. I mean, there are the loners, who choose to reject either way of existence plus, in time, there won’t be enough for the communities to survive on their own… then it comes down to community v community. That’s where it gets nasty.

  But I get his point, and it does make me think about my community again and how much I should be involved in it.

  I think I should go back there but I know that day will take time.

  4pm: I just dropped in on Mr Nichols again – he’s really, really, really, really not looking good. He couldn’t speak to me either. All he could muster the energy for was to gruntingly let me know he didn’t want me around. I think he wanted to die in peace.

  6.45pm: I just had a realisation. Today is one month since the comet hit the Earth. One month! Time seems so hard to plot these days. One month that in some ways seems like a day and in others seems like forever. I hate moments like this, when I’ve reached a milestone, because it makes me think back to the world before, which then makes me miss it and the people I used to share it with. Sure, there’s the achievement of successfully surviving a month. That’s great. That’s something positive. But that’s about the limit to my positives. The thing is, while I was successfully managing to exist I was systematically being robbed of all the things that made existence worthwhile. That’s a completely depressing thought.

  Is it wrong that I’m starting to think the already bleak outlook is going to be made a whole lot worse by the fact it’s also been a month since I’ve gotten laid? And the prospects of that improving any time soon seem close to zero. I’m a monk filled with spunk. I’ve seen a few options down at the community but it’s so cold down there and everyone is so covered up I’m only assuming half of them are girls. There’s a mistake I wouldn’t want to make. And I know I’m desperate and all, but no… just no!

  So tonight I’m going directly to the top shelf of Dad’s alcohol cabinet, I’m gonna reach right to the back and pull out something random. I’m gonna raise a glass to everyone I miss, all the girls I’ve hit, and I’m gonna get myself nicely plastered.

  Happy freaking anniversary.

  I would do anything for some company, though. Someone to spend time with away from the school would be priceless. I’d even settle for a pet. I’ve never been much of a pet person but it seems like a pretty tempting option right now.

  ****

  Monday, May 13, 2014

  8.30am: Why, why, why? Stupid self-inflicted hangover is stupid.

  10.10am: I just realised how quickly I am churning through my water stocks – 10% already. That gives me less than half of what I have left in food. Developing a strategy to produce/acquire/purify more water quickly jumped the charts to No. 1 priority. I’ll sift through all the data I printed out pre-rock to see if any valid options for my circumstances appear. I mean, there is plenty of time to sort something out but I don’t want to be stressing about it. Today I’m ripping though double the normal intake too (refer to last entry).

  12.30pm: Vale Mr Nichols. Well, it had to happen and I’m glad it was a relatively quick end. I went around there just after 11am and knew something was up as soon as I entered the house. I can’t explain it but there was just a vibe in the house that made me know he was no longer with us. Creepy. I found him slumped over in his favourite armchair, blood and phlegm stains everywhere. I’m not sure it was the most dignified exit, but the end result is what he wanted.

  So I followed his final wishes. I buried him in the backyard with a few personal possessions. I tidied the place up to make it look respectable. I left the notes to his
family on the table and I left. I didn’t take anything – even though Mr Nichols said I could help myself; it just didn’t seem right. I think I’m gonna gather the rest of his food and head up to the community tomorrow. They could use the donation more than I can and it seems like the right thing to do.

  7pm: Wow, this world has a funny way of working. Just when I thought the pattern of one day being bleaker than the one before would continue until the end, I had not one,but two pleasant surprises this afternoon. Both visitorsBoth female

  The first was early afternoon. I’d just gotten over the worst of the hangoverness when there was a knock at the door. Once again I armed myself and prepared for invasion, but nothing could’ve prepared me for who was on the other side. Mia.

  Yes Mia – I thought she was dead Mia. She looked terrible, her right eye was a shiny shade of purple and she had a bunch of cuts on her face. I must’ve had the most goofy, shocked expression on my face when I opened the door because she said ‘surprise’ then laughed. I think she was laughing at me!

  I couldn’t help myself. I cried, then moved in and gave her the biggest squeeze I could muster. Then I realised it wasn’t just her face that was damaged as she winced in pain. I apologised and invited her in.

  She told me everything she knew from the failed raid on Norwood. Firstly they were more prepared and better armed than we had anticipated. She reckons they’d cleaned-out the firearms shop on Magill Rd. Apparently Brad had gone in all cocksure and aggressive at the main entrance, demanding this and that. He ignored a couple of warnings thinking he was calling their bluff and before anyone knew what was happening a small army of Norwood hubbers burst through the front doors and unleashed on our lot. It was a massacre.