Next, the two set to reinforcing the fence surrounding the property. Harry and Steph dug out any rotten or broken fence posts, replacing them with star pickets. Once the base structure of the fence was strong again, Harry looked to make it a more difficult barrier to cross. The two of them strung a line of barbed wire along the top of the perimeter posts, hoping to snag any Carrier that tried to mount the fence.
Harry slowly stretched his hands above his head and felt his back creak in protest. He felt like he’d been chewed up and spat out again. Every muscle ached. His hands were a multitude of blisters that wept yellow serous fluid where they had torn open. Despite wearing leather gardening gloves during installation of the wire, needle sharp barbs had punctured his skin more times than he cared to remember.
The next stage of fortification required him to start moving the shipping containers into position around the house, and if Harry was honest with himself, he was starting to question his ability to drive the heavy machinery required. He’d forced open the office door after dawn to get to the truck keys, hoping to make an early start. It wasn’t until he was sitting in the driver’s seat of the semi-trailer used to move the containers, that he realised he might be out of his league. He had backtracked to the office, looking for a user manual to study. He couldn’t afford to do something stupid and break the winches or anything that would prevent them from completing the defences. Better a few days late than a total failure.
He wearily got to his feet and leant against a post at the edge of the verandah. Maybe a change in activity would let his subconscious tackle some of his problems and find an answer.
‘How about we ditch this place for a few hours and gather some more supplies before the supermarkets are stripped bare?’ he suggested to Steph, who eyed him suspiciously above her mug of tea.
‘You’ve been working like a madman these last two days. Why break now when you wanted to get those containers done? What’s happened?’
‘Nothing major, I’m just going to have to study some manuals before I can load the trucks – and I can do that at night. I figured I should use the daylight for something a little more useful than just reading,’ he said.
‘All right. Maybe we should head further away, try Ulladulla before the infection takes hold of the two towns? Might as well save the easier trips for when it gets more difficult to move around. What do you reckon?’ Steph said.
‘Deal. Are you ready if we head off soon?
Steph nodded, took a last sip from her mug of tea and threw the rest on the dirt below. ‘Let’s go.’
* * *
Georgie had successfully sailed them down the New South Wales south coast to reach the harbour of Ulladulla. Two curtain walls jutted from the south and north margins of the harbour entrance, protecting the small marina within from the worst that the ocean could throw at the town. The yacht bumped up against the rubber tyres protecting the pier as they closed the final distance to berth. Penny stumbled, and threw an arm out sideways to steady herself and regain her balance. She had forced herself to get up and move the day before. Grief hung like a haze over every interaction and sight, giving everything a hideous dreamlike quality. The knowledge that her family was dead, was a raw wound on her heart that bled continuously, unseen.
Penny had always pitied those who chose suicide, and was determined to honour her son and husband by fighting until she could stand no longer. She had to keep moving, knowing that if she allowed herself to curl into a foetal position in the darkness once more, the seductive voice of despair would prevent her from emerging a second time. She already carried an additional weight of guilt after sleeping through the attack at Shellharbour, and had no plans to increase that debt by failing her new friends again.
Mark swung himself up onto the pier and secured a mooring line from both the bow and stern to the wooden pylons. He then jumped back down, disappearing into the cabin for a few moments, only to reappear with his loaded rifle in hand. Penny said nothing at the sight. Only weeks before, a heavily armed man carrying a military rifle in an Australian town would have set her heart racing. However, this wasn’t the same country anymore. The country that had been their home was lost. Anything the government eventually won back would be a shadow of former glory, the surviving population altered and scarred by their lived history.
She ran through a basic check of her pistol before holstering it once again at her waist. She switched her hand hold to the ladder hanging from the edge of the pier and climbed up. Penny could smell herself as she climbed; she’d lost count of the days that she’d been wearing the same blue uniform. Then again, the trio all smelt the same. Deodorant hadn’t been high on the list of priorities when they ran.
Georgie was the last to ascend after she had shut down the yacht’s engine and locked the cabin. She accepted a hand up from Mark as she gained her footing on the rough wooden planks of the pier. A sheathed fishing knife from the yacht’s supplies now hung from her right hip. In her hands was the Sako 0.22. The day before, the wind had dropped away for two hours, leaving them becalmed. Georgie had taken the opportunity to learn the basics of handling Mark’s rifle. Her accuracy proved excellent as she fired at a number of floats Mark had strung out behind the boat. He’d been impressed at the speed at which she she’d taken up the skill of managing the firearm, but when he’d commented on her hidden talent, she had frostily ignored the praise, stating that she’d always been good at different sports.
The three of them walked quietly to shore and headed for the car park to find transport. They split up, each checking door handles, praying for an abandoned set of keys and a full tank. Interestingly, most cars had unlocked doors, left carelessly as their owners fled to their boats in the marina.
Mark let out a small whoop of excitement as he found a Subaru Outback station wagon with keys in the ignition, a tank full of petrol and a luggage cage pinned to the roof racks. The engine turned over without hesitation, grumbling into life. Mark drove the car out to the start of the pier to load the few things they’d been able to take from Sydney. Penny and Georgie followed. As they passed the boot of a new Mercedes sedan, a guttural noise started in the boot, quickly followed by thumps against the metal work that rocked the car on its suspension. Georgie caught Penny’s gaze,
‘How did a Carrier get itself locked in there?’
‘Probably a bitten family member that had to be left behind once the disease took hold. Can’t say I’m keen to open it up and confirm my guess,’ replied Penny. Both women increased their pace, keen to leave the car behind. Penny helped Mark load the case of ammunition for the Austeyr and 0.22 into the rear of the Outback while Georgie kept watch.
‘How far away is your parents’ place?’ he asked Georgie.
‘A thirty minute drive. We’ll need food though; I don’t think there’s much stocked at the house.’
Behind the marina ran the main road of Ulladulla, lined with various shops and cafes. Penny pointed over Mark’s shoulder, drawing their attention.
‘There’s a sign for a Coles. Might as well see if they’ve got food left on the shelves?’ Penny suggested. The three of them climbed into the car, and Mark drove out of the marina, following the signs towards the supermarket.
* * *
Steph was glad for the size of the four-wheel drive. It made her feel a little safer being farther off the ground than the usual car. As they drove out of the property, rain had poured from the sky in a torrent before abruptly stopping like a tap had been turned off. The sun had then pushed aside the grey clouds to flood the green paddocks on either side with light. On entering the town, it was clear the infection had started to take hold here as well, continuing its irrepressible march from Sydney.
The beautiful village of Milton that straddled the crest of the ridge to either side of the Princes Highway had changed. Better days would have seen tourists drinking coffee at sidewalk tables, or sifting through the menagerie of homeware and antique shops. Not any more. Business windows were smashed; a few bu
ildings had been gutted by fire. She counted five stumbling figures of the Infected as they drove through. One tried to intercept them, forcing Harry to mount the curb to pass.
Steph tried to get the radio to work, but was met with static as she rolled the tuner through the FM and AM bandwidths. Contact with the outside world was shutting down, the TV had ceased picking up any signal that morning as well. Electricity would probably be the next to go. Harry’s eyes skittered about the road ahead, looking for obstacles to their passage. Now was as good a time as ever to broach the topic – they needed help.
‘Harry, I think we need more people on the property. Looking at this town – we could be attacked any day, and our defences aren’t anywhere near complete. Is there anyone at the hospital that might want to join us?’ Steph asked.
Harry sighed, scratching at the stubble on his chin while he thought. ‘You’re right, but I only just got to this place myself last week. I don’t know anyone here. We could try and make contact with some of the other farms around us I guess as a starter?’
‘Didn’t you say that you and that other doctor left phone numbers and addresses on the front door of the ED? We could get in contact with him, see if he can suggest anyone that wants to make an alliance,’ Steph said.
‘Shit, I’d completely forgotten about that. The hospital’s just up ahead,’ he replied.
Four of the Infected were slowly walking around at the front of the Emergency department, probably dumped by family members prior to succumbing to the disease. As Harry pulled in, their attention locked upon the car. He tried to swallow, but his throat had dried of spit.
‘Make sure your door’s locked. They won’t break in if we’re quick.’
Steph didn’t need any encouragement. She locked her door, then unclipped herself and twisted around to check both back doors were locked and windows firmly up.
‘There’s a pen in the glove box I think, grab it out for the details can you?’ Harry said.
Steph found it as Harry pulled into the ambulance bay, leaving only a foot’s width between the passenger window and the entrance. Steph quickly scribbled the details provided on the window onto the back of her arm. Two of the Infected were closing on Harry’s window as he watched with concern.
‘Have you got it down yet?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, let’s get out of here.’
Harry spun the wheel and accelerated out of the ambulance bay, back onto the main street to leave their attackers behind. After they had put a block between them and the hospital, Harry started to breath a bit easier again.
‘Are you still up for getting food? After seeing how this town’s already gone to shit, and as much as I would love to give it a miss now, this might be one of our last chances to stock up.’
Steph found herself grasping the handle of the small axe she’d chosen to bring as a weapon in a white knuckled grip. She loosened her fingers, noting the colour return to the skin. Forcing a steadying breath, she answered, ‘Let’s just get it done and go home.’
* * *
Mark found the Coles a block behind the main street, hidden at the back of a U-shaped complex of shops with a car park in the middle. The place was deserted, allowing him to drive up to the entrance.
The tempered glass of the automatic sliding doors lay in a scattered heap of tiny pebble-like pieces over the tiles both inside and out of the store. Someone had been kind enough to do the dirty work of break and enter for them. Their shoes crunched on the glass as they stepped over the base of the door and entered. Georgie noted a couple of house bricks in amongst the smashed glass that were likely responsible for the destruction.
Mark left the two women at the front as he did a quick walk past the aisles to check if the place was empty. He wasn’t just looking for Carriers, but also other people like themselves. After seeing the ruthless way in which some survivors had fought for their own gain on Botany Bay, the group had agreed to treat other people they met with some reserve. Lawlessness was the new world order. It was up to them to ensure their own safety.
The aisles were clear of any movement, although the supermarket had been heavily picked over already. The shelves were half emptied, and the fresh food and deli meats section swarmed with flies over the rotting produce. The lights were off, however, the windows at the store’s front provided a weak light source. Most of the aisles were in a state of twilight, with just enough light present to read labels. Mark returned to the others, his rifle now slung at ease over his shoulder. Penny had pulled out three trolleys to fill, and seeing Mark return, she rolled one towards him.
Georgie grabbed a trolley. ‘So what are we targeting? Canned vegetables and meat I suppose. Anything else in particular either of you want?’
‘Toiletries,’ answered Penny. Mark cocked an eyebrow at her in question. Penny sighed with irritation. ‘We need more than just food, Mark. I’ll get toilet paper, tampons and other bathroom stuff along with some washing powder for clothes, because mine are about to rot off me.’
Mark failed to take offence at her tone. Instead, inspired by her line of thought, he took a whiff from his own armpit and grimaced. ‘Ah, can you chuck in a couple of cans of deodorant for me as well?’
Penny’s glare softened somewhat.
‘I’ll go for water and see if I can find anything of use in the electrical and gardening section. If anyone else turns up, we all clear to the far aisle away from the door until we know what’s going on, ok?’
The girls nodded in reply, each going their separate ways.
Mark headed to the drinks aisle first, heaving three crates of bottled water into the trolley. He placed his weight up on the handle, scooting the trolley towards the electrical section. Mark had just picked up a torch when he heard a low rumble of a car’s engine pulling up to the supermarket. Leaving the trolley where it was, he jogged back to their agreed meeting point, rifle now in hand. The women had beaten him there.
‘How do you want to play this?’ Mark asked quietly.
Penny answered immediately. ‘Start from a position of strength, then ease it down as appropriate. Whoever it is, we want them on the back foot.’ She turned to Georgie. ‘Are you ok with that?’
‘I guess so.’ She didn’t look too convinced. ‘I’m still kind of hoping that we only really need to be afraid of the Infected, rather than every person we meet.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid. I’ll just have a quick conversation and make sure they’re not dodgy, then we can finish getting the food,’ said Mark, trying to sound reassuring.
Both the women stood back from the edge of the aisle, leaving him at the corner. Penny unclipped her holster, and waited.
* * *
Harry pulled up next to the Outback and cut the engine. ‘Looks like we’re not the only ones stocking the pantry,’ he said, tilting his head towards the other car.
‘Well, as long as they’re not dead, I’m happy to have a conversation with them,’ Steph answered as she unlocked her door and stepped outside, unconscious of the fact she still gripped her hatchet at the ready.
Harry looked down at the machete hanging from his own waist. We may be willing to talk – but are they going to want to speak to us when we walk in armed like this?
The two cousins paced warily through the broken frame of the entrance, feet crunching loudly in the silence. Harry peered forward into the gloom, trying to take in as much as he could.
‘Anyone here? We’re just coming in to get some supplies,’ he called out, startling Steph with the volume of his voice.
There was no reply. A can skittered in the farther-most aisle, drawing Harry’s attention. Crap. Better not be another of those dead fuckers. He gently withdrew the machete from the sheath at his waist and held it, point forwards. He turned to Steph. ‘Wait here a sec, yeah? I’m just going to check out that sound,’ he whispered.
Harry walked slowly, trying to keep the sound of his footfall to a minimum. Glancing down each aisle as he passed, he found nothing bu
t empty linoleum floors and depleted shelves. Coming to the last aisle, he turned the corner, and stopped abruptly. The end of a military rifle was mere inches from his face, the black hole of the barrel giving a wordless promise of death as it loomed directly ahead.
‘Stop right there, mate,’ ordered the man. ‘And drop that blade.’
There was no hope of discussion on the matter. Harry slowly squatted, placing the machete on the ground. As he stood once more, he noted two women standing a few metres behind, both holding firearms. A half smile kinked the side of Harry’s mouth.
‘Is something funny?’ the man ground out tonelessly, his rifle still trained on Harry’s face.
‘No, sorry,’ said Harry, holding both hands palm outwards in capitulation. ‘I was just thinking how I’d been worried that we might look too intimidating with our weapons if we bumped into normal people. But hey, we’ve got nothing on your firepower,’ he added, with a short laugh.
The rifleman just looked at him, his face expressionless.
Harry lost his smile quickly and changed tack. ‘Look, you’ve nothing to worry from us, my cousin and I are just stocking up on some food before it’s all gone. I’m one of the doctors from the local hospital; we’re no threat to you. We’ll leave you to it, if that’s all right?’
The man slowly dropped the barrel. ‘Ok. We don’t want any trouble either. Sorry, we’ve just seen some dodgy stuff of late.’
Steph inched her head around the corner, ‘Is everything ok?’ she asked quietly.
‘Yeah, it’s fine,’ Harry replied, his eyes still on the rifleman. ‘We’re all just getting our own supplies and leaving the other alone.’
Plague War: Outbreak Page 16
