Apocalypse: Diary of a Survivor 4 (Apocalypse Survivors)

by Matt Pike

  Stupid act of god.

  Seriously, hasn’t she done enough already? We get it, you want rid of us already. You gave us a shot at being the most successful species on the planet and we fucked it all up. Point made, very well.

  You had to laugh.

  If you didn’t you’d cry.

  If you didn’t you’d just want to give up altogether.

  *

  Of course, it turned into a beautiful afternoon. Like the carnage of the storm never happened. Except, you know, everywhere you looked. Classic passive aggressive god(s). Or maybe it’s some sort of abusive relationship. Whatever the case, it’s not functional and we’re not in a position to do anything about it.

  Anyway, we managed to find some wood stocks buried deep in our stockpile we could build a fire around. The rest of the day was spent trying to get enough things dry to be able to sleep last night. Then we started trying to make order from the mess that had been left.

  *

  I’m not sure dry ever really came. It doesn’t really feel like I’ll ever be dry again. I could say the same thing about sleep.

  I’m exhausted. We are just ploughing on with what needs to be done to get things back to a basic level of shelter for tonight.

  All except Nate. After spotting the smaller boat out to sea this morning, he headed out to it on the surfski. He’d made a makeshift paddle out of some of the wood and just headed to the haze horizon against all advice to the contrary.

  No one has said much about the oval, or Goodwood, or anything beyond the basics of what needs to be done around here. It must be in the back of their minds though, as it is mine. There’s no escaping. It fills the background of every thought I have, but doesn’t pass through my lips.

  We’ve got to start chatting again soon, though. The days are running out. Time is running out.

  *

  Things have started to turn the corner this afternoon. The fire has helped, big time. It’s allowed us to get enough things dry that we’ll have decent sleeping conditions tonight. Jonesy’s managed to get Phoenix up and running again, but it’s at the expense of Ye-jun’s ride. Still, we have transport, and if we’re going to have any play in the game, we need it.

  We also have enough smoked fish and desal water stocks to ride us through, at least until the conflict and whatever the aftermath brings.

  Now we just need to take care of ourselves and start to come up with a plan to take back some control in this world before it’s too late.

  *

  First step in that plan was to salvage the fans and a couple of other pieces from the third hovercraft. I took off with Steph after lunch. We parked ourselves a good kilometre short of the waystation; we couldn’t be too careful in the circumstances.

  It was a long and heavy slog through the rain-soaked ash bog. The first landmark that came into view was the robot hand. As soon as we saw the fingertips poking through the gloom, we moved down to river level, where the going was even tougher. Still, better hard work than getting spotted.

  When the waystation and bridge came into view, we were on high alert, guns at the ready. It’s as slowly and quietly as I’ve ever sludged.

  We were within 50m of the bridge before we were sure the coast was clear. Well, when I say clear, we still made the final bit of ground with guns raised at the last bits of cover any enemy could’ve taken, but we had a sense the bridge was ours.

  What wasn’t was the hovercraft. It was gone.

  I’ve had my heart and stomach sink a few times in the last few days, but the feeling at that moment trumped them all. Someone had swiped our ride. I cursed myself for leaving it there that long and again for potentially leading the Norwood crew right to it the other day, then a third time to whoever took it.

  After standing in the hole formerly filled by Phoenix 3, we looked around for clues. It wasn’t easy, given the recent torrent, but you could definitely make out enough to see the remains of footprints under the drag marks of the craft as it was shipped out. That must’ve taken a lot of people.

  We are a secret no more. And now they have one of our game-changing transports. This is so not good.

  I felt sick being so far behind in the poker game at that moment. They were moving on us and we had nothing on them. Morale would be at a low bringing this news back. I had one shot to at least put something back in our favour - one tiny thing. But I knew if I tried it and it didn’t work, well, I didn’t even want to think about that option.

  I picked up the two-way I’d bought on the mission, flicked it on and kept the volume low. I was nervous, excited, scared and a million other things. It just had to work, it needed to work.

  I stood there like an idiot for about 10 minutes before the thing crackled into life, “Redleg one to base, sweep complete: clear. Over.”

  “Roger,” came the response shortly afterwards.

  Not sure how I describe my reaction to that moment. There was a fist pump - the definite hero of the moment. The rest of it was me just trying to scream in elation as best I could, without screaming in elation as best I could. All these amazing feelings washing over me and I had no way to outlet them. A hi-5 with Steph would have to suffice.

  We had them! This was huge! Game-changing… massively game-changing.

  It left me with the stupidest grin on my face as I went about my other tasks in the city. I listened to a few more pieces of communication - mostly procedural stuff as they went about their daily systems.

  There was so much we could take from this. Their lingo, how they go about their days, people identification and movements… just, so much. Most importantly, while they were being strictly business about how they used the network, there’s no way they suspected I was dropping in on their chatter at that moment. They had no idea.

  *

  Back at camp, we had probably the most important meeting and decision we’ve ever had - and I include our time at the oval and jail in that. We had to decide, there and then, what we were going to do - in for battle or rebuild the coast?

  If we wanted to be part of the battle, we had to commit right there and then. Time was not on our side. Neither was intel. That’s before you even start to think about all the other things that come with war.

  Risks were going to need to be taken, just to give us a fighting chance in four days.

  If we weren’t going in, we had to commit to that, too. That means no second guessing, no doubts and no change of heart when it was too late to do something about it. That also meant looking Steph in the eye and telling her, we’re not going to be going in after Shane. It also meant letting the biggest play this city has seen - right in our former home - play out without even having an impact on it.

  As much as playing safe and steering clear had some very strong appeal for our already battle-weary group, once you dug a little under the surface to how that might actually play out, there was no choice to be made. For any of us.

  We are going to be part of this battle.

  We are going to have an impact that helps unite all of Adelaide.

  We are going to make sure the Fat Man and his regime are no more.

  We are going to free Shane, Trav and the others.

  We are going to do it as a team.

  We are going to spend each moment between now and whatever happens on that dawn four days from now, making sure we do things as smart and safe as possible.

  *

  March 17, 2015

  We had spent the rest of yesterday coming up with our plan. Today was time to start rolling it out.

  Four of us rolled up along the river route to the turn-off to Godwood. Steph and I dropped Ye-jun and Asha off there to go on a spying mission, while we continued.

  After parking in the shopping centre car park, we were ushered to their headquarters with the VIP treatment. After a few minutes sorting themselves out, we sat down with Maria, Jimmy and Naomi - the brains trust.

  This was it. This was our biggest play and we wanted to do it different. If we were going to
have any chance of winning this thing, we needed as much people power as we could muster. We would be asking a lot of them. To ask a lot, you have to give a lot.

  For us, that meant the truth. The entire truth - who we were, our numbers, the history with Norwood, the state of the city, The Fat Man, the battle ahead - everything. It seemed impossible to even know how to start, but once we did, and aided by kind reception, we couldn’t stop. Any detail that would help them understand the world better was given. Any question they had, we answered. We played an open hand.

  On top of that, we told them about the world of possibilities that awaited on the other side of this battle. An Adelaide united, a community working together, a sustainable supply of food and water - enough for everyone.

  They wanted in, but they wanted to know the cost. That was the thing I couldn’t answer.

  For them, it was a simple ask, but a big one. Cross their badlands, be ready to meet by the Central Markets in three days’ time, ready to fight. The markets were a great assembly point for anyone south of the city - far enough from the oval, yet close enough. We also asked them to tell the other groups - anyone and everyone who wanted a say in the future of the city. Everyone who wanted to build a new future out of the ash and blood.

  They deliberated briefly before giving their agreement. We shook hands, telling them we’d be in touch again, if time permitted, but regardless, dawn at the Central Markets.

  *

  Once back at the drop-off point, we waited about an hour for Ye-jun and Asha to return. It was a nervous wait. They were only heading to the hospital site to get eyes on the oval and report back, but the danger with that task had risen rapidly during the last few days. An hour is a long time when all you have to do is wait and think.

  They returned with tales above and beyond the call of duty.

  After sneaking to the lookout point without incident, they had their binoculars on the oval. They spotted three separate groups heading from there across the bridge. All were under guard and, presumably, headed to Government House.

  This kept our two engaged and interested… until nothing else happened. Then the call of curiosity was too much. They wanted to get something more meaningful. This was completely not what we’d planned, by the way. What are they like?

  Anyway, they got in as far as the casino with relative ease. There was a pair of guards patrolling North Tce up and back in a jeep and another group circling Government House on foot. That aside, there wasn’t much to hinder their progress. And really, with those two, that’s barely a challenge.

  They poked around, seeing what they could learn and figuring out the best access points to fire and move from. All things that will be hugely valuable come battle time. They also sussed out that our old lookout point on top of the Adelaide Club building across North Tce from the first battle for the oval would be the perfect sniper location when shit was going down.

  As for this new fortress being crafted out of Government House, well, it’s one serious compound. It was surrounded by a wall of ash several metres high, with guard towers on each of the four corners. The only access point to the facility appeared to be on the northern side, giving it quick access to the oval.

  That aside, they weren’t able to spot Zoe or Kent, nor Shane ot Trav. It’s a bit hard to read too much into that, given there were only about 50 people seen on or near the site while we were monitoring it. Regardless, that’s exactly what we did. Well, we just acknowledged it as significant information, saw the look on Steph’s face, then battled with the what ifs in silence. I know that’s what I sure did.

  They also got some good intel on call signs and patterns on their two-way chatter, as well as the fact they were calling themselves redlegs as a collective. In fact, they all had some red markings on their pants. Some had material stitched in, some had it painted right onto their fatigues. It was good info.

  I wanted to be mad with the guys for taking things into their own hands, but the intel was too good - people update aside, of course. We headed back with a renewed sense of confidence about the entire situation. We had broken through the invisible barrier that is their territory and it was as if we owned a piece of it again.

  *

  Back at camp that night, we had some quality data to start building a map around. With that came the first ideas for how we could position ourselves for attack. It was definitely a positive.

  On the negative side, without any contact with Zoe, or even any sign of it happening, we are really still very much going into the battle side of things blind. We have to take her on her very brief words on the subject, that they’ll begin to move across all their weapons and belongings in three days, leaving the Fat Man as the last piece of the puzzle. All we really know is we have to wait for that moment. At least we have their comms channel hacked.

  We saw their movements for a brief period on one day. We don’t know if this is regular or a pattern, so we’re going to have to work on our intel. After what Ye-jun and Asha saw, we have a more aggressive strategy around that. It doesn’t seem Norwood have much interest in looking much farther south than North Tce at the moment. Who knows, maybe they do a big sweep of the CBD morning and night, but as far as the standard around-the-clock operations go, it looks like they’re staying very close to their base.

  That probably makes a lot of sense while they consolidate their turf, but it does give us an opportunity to get in a lot closer than we ever thought possible. The roof of the Adelaide Club is definitely the A1 target right now. If we can get someone up there, we’ll be able to have eyes over just about everything happening in and around the grounds of Government House.

  I’m going to try to beat the dawn light to the city in the morning to take the first shift. It’s risky, and getting caught could blow this whole plan wide open, but the rewards are just too good to ignore.

  *

  Also, the thing around the two-ways has got me thinking. It’s one thing to have access to what they’re saying, it’s another thing altogether to have our own communications system set up for battle. I mean, communication is everything. They have it and we don’t. It makes them faster to react, more coordinated, more adaptable, stronger… everything.

  But what if we could do the same?

  What if we could get our own communication network up and running? It wouldn’t just give us a level playing field with them, it would give us a major advantage. We could hear them and talk amongst ourselves. That is one serious advantage. A number of our weakest points heading into this would be gone.

  If we take one of the generators into the city with us, find a system that would give us range and rigged it all up to run off our external power, we could have exactly that. There’s no reason this couldn’t happen at the Central Markets.

  Also, we’ll need to take our observations to the next level. Now that we can drop in on their chat, we’re going to have to take as much advantage of it as we can in the time we’ve got. The more we know, the better off we’ll be.

  We need to note and write down everything. Everything. We’re going to need someone in the city at all times between now and the battle. We’ll have to time log everything that’s said, who said it, where they were - everything.

  If we can do that and keep our lookout spot, we are going to know them pretty well by the time shit goes down.

  *

  March 18, 2015

  It was still dark when I pulled Phoenix up on the west side of the parklands - same place we stopped to do the bullet swipe the other day. I handed the reins over to Ye-jun and he began the trek back to the coast, leaving me a lone soldier on the edge of enemy territory.

  Travelling by torch light is probably pretty dangerous, but I knew each turn of that journey so well these days it felt like I could do it blindfolded.

  Anyway, I made the distance over no-man’s land in darkness, then flicked the torch back on once I’d found the cover of building rubble on the other side. From there, I zigzagged my way from building to building, o
nly using the torch to get my bearings between stops.

  There were the first hints of dawn poking through as I neared North Tce, allowing me to kill the light altogether. I’d crossed to the east side of King William by that point and stuck close to the buildings until I reached the alley only about 80m short of North Tce. Heart rate was up, even though it appeared quiet.

  I was soon at the access point to the roof, then climbed to the bottom of the fire escape ladder, then made my way to the top.

  I had been to this spot once before, to retrieve Craig’s body after the first battle for the oval. My first moments on that roof were thinking about that - a victory that came with pain and loss. I thought about Craig and the others we lost that day - Brain and Nick. Seemed so long ago and a world away, but it really wasn’t.

  After I’d paid my respects, I tried to turn my thoughts into feelings I could channel for the morning ahead. And the days beyond. It was a mix of determination and hope, that’s the best way I could put it. Determination that those deaths and all the ones that followed would not be for nothing. That this world could find a better way and that I could be part of making sure that happened. There was also hope that the feelings that rooftop visit brought back would not happen again this time, but I knew they would.

  There’s no victory in this world that doesn’t come with a price. I just hoped this one wouldn’t be too great to bear.

  With that, I made my way to the edge to try to find the best place to camp out for the day. I found a nice place to lay low that gave me the perfect view over the Government House grounds without being spotted and wouldn’t be too uncomfortable to spend a long time there.

  Being spotted was simply not an option. It would be an end to our advantage and probably an end to any chance of the Fat Man opening himself up for attack. Worst of all, it’d probably be the end of me. There was only one way on to this roof.

  *

  It was a long wait before I saw any action. It came a couple of minutes after the two-way started coming to life with enemy talk. A lot of time to think and reflect, while I looked over the place that I used to call home, preparing to fight for it once more. It could’ve been trigger by the memories of Craig, but I think it was something more. Battle does things, it changes you. Changes maps and lives, but it definitely changes you. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for more change as I waited there, but just the very act of being there meant it was coming.