Arcadium

by Sarah Gray

  Chapter 13

  A LITTLE BEFORE noon we gather in the hotel lobby and wait while Trouble starts the car. As soon as it rumbles to life we push through the glass doors and leave safety. It’s hot again today; the warmth is like a scorching cloud over my skin.

  The highway is deserted as we pull out. No one says much; it’s like the tension is a rubber band pulled tight and the first person to speak will snap it in two.

  I sit up front with Trouble, Liss is behind me with Henry in the middle and Kean on the other side.

  I direct Trouble down Warrigal Road and we begin the slow trawl through a maze of abandoned cars. There are two narrow lanes on either side, a small nature strip and then houses. We weave into the oncoming lane and bump slowly up onto the nature strip, squeezing between a house fence and an upside down car. Then we pick our way back, looking for a clear path.

  The car heats up quickly and we wind the windows down just a crack each. Even though it must be like forty degrees, no one is crazy enough to wind them all the way down and risk being surprised by an infected. At this speed they could just reach on in and take what they want.

  Sunlight glistens off glossy-leaved trees, and it washes out the scene like an over exposed photo. The concrete seems whiter, the houses seem drearier, and the cars seem as though they’re fading away into history.

  I remember this road as one of the busiest, and now it’s nothing more than a dried up vein.

  Our lane clears and we pick up speed as we head uphill. “We’re close,” I say.

  No one replies. My eyes start searching the landscape for signs of the building. I’m staring out to my right when it happens, so I’m caught completely off guard.

  There’s a huge bang followed by a shattering explosion. Suddenly pieces of windscreen are in my lap, in my hair. A shadow flicks up and over us, rolling across the roof. Wild screeching fills the car and the stench of hot rubber stings my nostrils. There’s a brief moment of pause, where time seems to move so slowly, and finally I understand what’s going on. We’re careening off to the left, jarring up the curb and onto the nature strip.

  There’s another bang, loud and final, and I hear metal twist and groan. My head slams forward because I’m stupidly not wearing my seatbelt, and my own forehead crushes my hands on the dashboard. The airbag explodes into Troubles face, but I don’t have one. The world seems to stop but everything in the car wants to keep going.

  Henry’s arms flail forward through the gap in the seats but he never comes through. His belt saves him.

  We lurch back and everything goes quiet. All I can hear is my own breath, over and over again. There’s blood on my hands and I wonder if it’s from my head. My fingers are already starting to swell up, just seconds after impact, and steam hisses out of the crumpled bonnet.

  Trouble starts moving, pushing the bag from his face. He looks over at me, a trickle of blood comes from his nose. Something passes between us, not words or communication, It’s like a basic human instinct we share, and we react the same way.

  We get out quick.

  My ears are ringing and my hands feel numb; I hold them out in front like they’re not mine anymore. For a moment I forget about the world we live in, about all the infected. I stand on the grass and stare at the car. The front is wrapped around a lamppost, the metal rippled like water. The back doors are still closed. Thirty metres back an infected person lies bleeding in the middle of the road. Bleeding but moving, jerking around weakly on its side.

  Suddenly it all comes rushing back. Sound and thoughts and reality.

  Liss is screaming. I pull open the door and my hand roars with pain. Liss tumbles out, pale and shaking. She grips my t-shirt and doesn’t let go. On the other side of the car there are shouts and movement. The boot pops open and Trouble pulls out the wheelchair.

  I spin and search for the building. It’s huge, I can’t miss it, but from this distance it looks abandoned. Cold grey concrete blocks, blank windows, an empty car park, yellow tufts of grass growing beyond the chain link fence. I have no idea how to get in, or if anything’s even in there.

  “They’re coming!” It’s Kean’s voice.

  I look in either direction and freeze. Infected bodies are shifting through the cars and debris, flowing toward us like a torrent of dirty water.

  Everything’s happening so quickly. I claw Liss off my shirt and I only know she’s holding my hand because I see her do it, I can’t feel a thing.

  Warm blood trickles down the side of my face and I glance over my shoulder. The others are coming, running towards me because they think I know where I’m going. They think I’m the best chance they’ve got. Oh, hell.

  I take off, dragging Liss across the footpath and we run parallel to the fence. It’s too high to climb and my hands are too numb and I don’t know how to get Henry over.

  The sick gurgling sounds of the infected come from everywhere. I’m running but it feels like the concrete path is a treadmill. All this effort and I’m hardly getting anywhere.

  Suddenly there’s an infected woman in front of us. I yank Liss sideways, back onto the road and we skirt around a car. I hear the infected woman’s skull crack as Trouble dispatches her with the baseball bat. The others are right behind now.

  “Where? Where?” Kean shouts.

  “I don’t know!” My voice comes out high and curdles on the top note. It doesn’t even sound like me.

  The fence crosses the car park and stretches toward the building, so I follow it. There’s no sign of life, no sign of safety. I just keep thinking that this can’t be how it ends for us. We’ve been through so much and this is how we die? A car accident and nowhere left to go. There’s no point to that. It’s not fair.

  “There!” Kean yells. He’s pushing Henry’s wheelchair and running in small zigzags. Trouble’s bat is covered in blood. Behind us the infected pour into the car park.

  Suddenly I see what he sees. A gap in the side of the building: a huge elevator with its doors wide open. I know it won’t work because the power is out but maybe we can get through the roof into the elevator shaft and climb to safety. It’s the only choice because the fences funnel us this way, just as they funnel the stampede of infected.

  Henry’s wheelchair clunks over the metal doorway and we spill into the elevator. I point frantically to the roof, to the small manhole. Trouble stands on the arms of Henry’s wheelchair to reach the roof but he can’t budge it.

  I turn and face the door, turn to face the wall of infected as they close in on us. I can’t feel my sister’s hand but she’s there, right by my side. Trouble is screaming in Chinese, pounding his fists on the metal manhole. Henry is yelling too.

  They’re only twenty metres away.

  Then ten.

  I look across at Kean and our eyes connect. Everything that could have been, that’s what I think.

  Five metres away. Death is here.

  And then the elevator doors start moving, racing the infected. They amble across with a casual hiss and suddenly we’re sealed in.

  “We made it!” Kean says. “Look.”

  I follow his pointed finger to a sign on the wall.

  “Welcome to Arcadium,” he reads. “To enter the facility press the red button. We made it.”

  The elevator jolts and we begin to rise.

  “There’s more…” Kean says.

  Something distracts me. A soft hiss.

  “Can you smell that?” I say, sniffing the air.

  Henry is looking around at the floor; Trouble is kneeling next to him, wiping blood from his own nose.

  “It also says…” Kean’s words echo around the steel elevator. “That entry is subject to decontamination.”

  “Decontamination?” Henry says. “What does that mean? How are they going to…” His words cut short and his eyes go wide and he slumps in his seat. One by one we go down. Trouble next, falling back against the floor. Liss collapses, dragging me down to my knees. The last thing I see is Kean clutching his chest,
sliding down the cold steel wall.

  My head feels like it’s drunk, and then like it wants to go to sleep. My lungs get tired, like they’re filled with water. I cough. Just once. The edges of my vision blur and the colour starts to disappear until everything goes black.

  And I’m out too.