Apocalypse 3

by Matt J. Pike

  So, while it was great that our target building was relatively undamaged, it also meant Kelly and I were on heightened alert. The closer to the edge of the tsunami damage, the higher the likelihood of someone else being around. While no one else in their right mind would be hunting for bowling balls in this world, there was a shopping centre across the road to the west. Given we’d probably broadcast our arrival through the noise coming from Phoenix, before we came into eyeshot… and given we couldn’t see anyone anywhere around the shopping centre, well, we considered ourselves safe enough… for now.

  I pulled right up to the entrance and we headed in.

  Apart from the usual broken glass and months of ash weather getting in, the alley was actually in remarkable shape. Some of the shelves in front of the lanes were still stacked with bowling balls – just as they were the day the world changed.

  Loading was, well, just what it was – two balls at a time each. Given past experiences with different loads, I reckoned Phoenix could handle 500kg, including us, which gave us 370kg to work with. That was about 800 pounds, we thought. I started working on the 14 pound balls, Kelly on the 12. Once we had 60 we decided to move them back to the CBD.

  We wanted all the work in the danger zone done as quickly as possibly – no need to expose ourselves outside our walls more than necessary. So, we returned to where Goodwood Rd met West Tce/South Tce, dropped the cargo next to the cleared road and called it in on the two-way. We were finally able to get enough signal to hear base through the static. They were expecting the call and soon had a crew heading out in one of the cars while Kelly and I headed back for round two.

  So it went. Things changed as we were loading the third batch. I remember asking Kelly if she thought we were being watched – she did. It’s something I feel more often than I’d like out there but I remember this one vividly. Those thoughts stayed with me as we dropped our third load off to the city, then headed back. I was slightly on edge when we approached again for the final load.

  That feeling of being watched seemed to build in intensity. Kelly told me to shut up and load up so we could leave as soon as possible. My eyes were darting everywhere as we got into the heavy lifting. Things were all quiet at first but about halfway through the final leg of the mission I spotted, not one, but six people lined up across Goodwood Rd to our south – a good 150m away. They stood single-file across the road… just watching us.

  I froze and just returned the stare they were giving me.

  They were all dressed in dark colours with what looked like balaclavas covering their faces and green bandanas over the top. It was hard to tell much beyond that through the weather. They looked like aliens, I remember thinking.

  Some creepy, silent, close-encounters-of-the-third-kind stand-off followed – minus the melody – until Kelly returned to Phoenix with another load. She somewhat floated in next to me and returned their gaze too.

  At some point I waved. It was not reciprocated.

  Without breaking my stare I whispered to Kelly, “We should probably leave.”

  “That is an outstanding idea,” she replied.

  Again, without breaking eye contact, we backed up towards Phoenix, jumped in and left.

  That was one freaky encounter. Not entirely sure what they wanted, other than protecting their patch from strangers, perhaps. I shared my alien observation with Kelly as we headed back. The conversation got somewhat silly from that point – mostly around abduction and anal probing. I think we were a little relieved to be out of that weird situation in one piece.

  Still, the city had revealed another community today – it seems full of surprises everywhere you look, this city.

  Not only did we leave with our lives and our, erm, dignity, we also had 251 pieces of car and skull crushing ammunition. That would be plenty of ammo to work with. We’d knocked off four (well, 3.5) runs in seven hours and had collected most of the stuff we could see in front of the lanes. We knew there could be more potential joy in the pro-shop and behind the lanes, should we ever need it – and if we wanted another alien encounter.

  *

  Now that I think about this experience with a little distance – I wouldn’t be surprised if they thought we were the aliens! We rock up to the lands in this futuristic vehicle and swipe – of all things – bowling balls!

  Seriously, I wonder what they made of it all.

  That did bring a smile to my face.

  *

  It’s also pleasantly surprising NOT being shot at when making first contact. That’s almost like bonding in this world.

  *

  We took the last load back to base, which was eerily empty of people. I mean, there’s always people around in the main oval area, or up on the balcony of the war room – especially when they know we’re coming back from an interesting mission. But it was dead. Kelly and I exchanged a range of curious glances and we were probably on the verge of getting concerned when we heard a huge creaking noise followed by a massive, elated roar from behind the Western stand.

  We ran to see what was going on... but we already knew.

  We rounded the back of the stand to see Jonesy and Jonah stepping their way out to Adelaide Oval No.2 – the practice oval to the west of the stadium. Anyway, there was a small group of people following them, while the rest milled around the now fully completed trebuchet. It’s amazing how quickly they’d put it together. It’s amazing what you can actually achieve in this world when you absolutely have to.

  As soon as those near saw us heading their way they rushed over to tell us all about the successful tests. While I was listening to one person interrupt another with distances and adjustments etc, I couldn’t believe there was another thing overriding what they were saying in my mind. I was jealous. Yep, jealous. Here was this significant moment at the oval – the next game-changer – and I wasn’t there for its maiden show. Not only that, Kelly and I had just returned from a mission outside our walls that turned out to be potentially far riskier than first thought – yet no one seemed to care. Now, I’m pretty sure this is my problem and not everyone else’s, but I couldn’t help myself. Until that moment, every important thing that ever happened at the oval since rock night, well, I was there for it.

  It’s pathetic, I know. And I soon laughed it off. I mean, really, me? You’re better than that.

  “Eighty two metres!” Jonesy yelled back from the oval. Everyone cheered again.

  While I was able to acknowledge it happening, I still felt a little on the outer. This wasn’t my baby. I mean, I’d helped in my way, but this wasn’t my success. And that translated to me not knowing where to stand – that’s how

  stupid it got in my head. I did get a sense of how some of the newbies must have felt when they first came into our community... some of them are still a little bit like that.

  Luckily, I saw Ye-jun, leaning back against a wall and watching on, still in some discomfort. I was more than happy to see him up and about, and even happier to have someone to camp next to while I watched the goings on.

  He was looking a whole lot better than when I last saw him, and he told me something similar. It was certainly great to have him up and walking again – smiling even. I gave him the scoop on our new neighbours down south. He updated me on all things trebuchet while we watched Jonesy and his followers return to the engine and prepare for another test firing.

  Apparently the first three test firings were a disaster.

  Actually, if I haven’t explained the basic workings of a trebuchet – now’s the time. It’s a pretty simple device all things considered. The main structure is basically two colossal A-shaped wood frames – about 5m tall. Both are connected at the top point by a metal rod that runs between them. Attached to that rod is the throwing arm. On one end of the throwing arm is a massive wooden box – the counterweight. One the other end – the far longer end – is the sling. The sling is two pieces of rope that run back under the trebuchet, attached to the corners of a pouch that holds the ammunition.
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  There’s a pulley system to lift the counterweight box up – this takes four people about 30 seconds to load, but more people saves time. You could operate it with a minimum of two, it would just take far longer for each shot. Once the counterweight is elevated, there’s a trigger mechanism that has to be pulled from the side to set things in motion. Once engaged, gravity drops the counterweight, which levers the throwing arm, pulling the sling into action and launching the projectile.

  Simple enough, but there were teething problems according to Ye-jun. The first test firing was a sling malfunction – the bowling ball never left the pouch. The second test also had a sling problem, with one of the ropes ripping through the pouch, leaving the bowling ball rolling backwards at very low speed. After some repair work and some adjustments around the sling, they fired their third shot. It shot out backwards at a fair rate. Luckily no one is allowed behind or in front of the trebuchet when launching – the only damage was to the brickwork at the back of the stand.

  At that point they decided to double the weight they had in the counterweight box. That did the trick – 43m for test four, which looped like a golf chip shot. Since then, they’ve added a little more to the counterweight box and made some minor adjustments to the sling.

  I was lost in conversation with Ye-jun when I heard this ear shattering whistle. I looked up to see Jonesy looking at me. He removed his finger and thumb from his mouth and signalled me over. I offered Ye-jun to join me, but he was a happy wallflower today.

  When I joined the main group, Jonesy met me at the fringes and ushered me to where Kelly was.

  “This wouldn’t be possible without those who put their asses on the line outside to get the ammo,” he said, as everyone applauded.

  Jonesy winked at me and smiled in that confident and annoying way he does (maybe I only found it annoying today). Then he went on to explain all the things that Ye-jun had just told me – just with an extra serving of mayo on his version – he doesn’t mind stretching the truth for the sake of the story.

  Sure, Jonesy had the floor and this was his day, but I appreciated the gesture of being included. At the same time, I’m a bit annoyed at myself for letting my feelings show (or feeling like they could have). That’s not cool – not in my position around here. Maybe I have to let go of a few control issues. Maybe it’s just how tired I am. I mean, from the days leading up to rock night until now I have never lacked anything to do – but with the threats closing in on us from outside, free time is a lot rarer than it used to be. And, while the community we’ve built here brings so much to my life, finding time by myself is not as easy as it once was. And when I have it I tend to stay in my room, which is not the ideal way to spend all my free time. But if I go out, I end up working again.

  Maybe part of me misses the solitude at moments like this. I do realise that solitude was potentially driving me crazy, making this a very silly thought process, but… just… I need sleep.

  Anyway, it was getting dark. We had another three test shots before the light beat us. The last shot made a whopping 142 metres!

  They even reckon they’ve got more metres to gain tomorrow – a lot more. It’s incredible, it really is. When I think about how fast this idea has come to be, well, I’m not sure I still believe it. It’s amazing what you can get done with an idea, a bit of knowledge and nous and having a lot of people focused on achieving the same thing. Pre-rock timelines mean nothing here, especially with Norwood closing in on us.

  If we really can get the trebuchet shooting out up and around the 300m+ mark, we’ll have exactly the sort of weapon we need for no-man’s land. It’s going to take a very brave or stupid driver to cross the parklands while it’s raining bowling balls down on them – especially from multiple trebuchets!

  *

  The group was super buzzed as we made our way back to the main oval for the evening feast. Not only was the trebuchet a big win for the day, the last of the external walls was put in place. That’s a massive milestone. I realise I use the term feast each time I describe our evening group meal. Sometimes we do actually feast – when there’s something to celebrate. Sometimes I use the term with a dripping fat coating of irony as we’re usually preparing enough food to give us enough energy to start the next day, but leaving nothing to waste.

  The last few nights have been leaning closer to actual feast portions, as opposed to ironic feast rations. It’s a combination of things that has lead us to do this. For a start, everyone is busting ass around camp – there is just so much to prepare – for whatever is coming our way. So, we need the calories, at a basic level. But, it’s more than that, it’s a bit of a morale thing as well – a big feed and not thinking about tomorrow as best we can for an hour or so is worth more than any pre-rock pay cheque.

  On top of all that, we had three great reasons. We must celebrate these.

  In the background of our thoughts, though, we all know there’s a possibility that things might not turn out that well for us. I mean, if Norwood set tyre on CBD turf, this place is done – all of us, everything we’ve built, done. There’s no point in having all that food banked up and not using it when it’s needed most – now is one of those times.

  It was an idea Lana, Shane, Ye-jun and I developed. We haven’t shared it with anyone except those who prepare the food. We are heading to war after all, and everything we can do to get everyone cherry ripe for that day the better. And we think it’s working. Well, I know it’s working. It’s certainly working for me.

  Anyway, after hearing the trebuchet story again and toasting the completion of the wall, Kelly and I filled everyone in on our adventure – finally! There were a lot of questions but we didn’t have many answers – just a new mystery piece of this ever-evolving city being revealed. But it was nice when new people enter your life and don’t want to immediately kill you (even in the smallest way). That’s a pretty good friendship these days.

  Thoughts of people in green soon faded as we turned our focus to working out what our strategy should be for the next reconn mission out east. Not only what we should do, but how we should go about doing it. It’s dangerous out there now – that last encounter could’ve been a lot worse.

  While it is definitely a safety-first approach, we have to know what’s going on so we can plan our defence accordingly. Then Ye-jun came up with a genius idea – we could approach the Fullarton hubbers for an alliance. Not bad from the guy they’d shot in the side! It was partly inspired by the greenies we met today. How many pockets of people are gathered together minding their own turf to stay alive? Could we join forces to stop a bigger enemy that threatens us all?

  This opened up a whole lot of different tactical possibilities that could really take the game to Norwood’s doorstep before they even thought further on attacking us.

  We had barely started scratching the surface of ideas when we heard the sound of distant gunfire. We turned to see glimpses of red haze through the ash in the same direction we were at last night. We knew it could only mean one thing – Norwood was attacking Fullarton.

  There was a hush around camp as everyone stopped and listened to the echoing of shots through the still night.

  That meant quite a few things for us. The most immediate being Norwood weren’t digging their flanking roads against us tonight. I heard more than one person say to let them waste their bullets somewhere else... but it seemed to have a different perspective for me, having been through what I had last night. It sounded, well, I’m not really sure what words to use here – more haunting, perhaps.

  The sound of gunfire settled into a slow and steady rhythm over the next couple of hours. It wasn’t like the frantic bursts that ended the last battle we’d heard, but it was still significant.

  We speculated as to why it was happening on this night. Maybe we had just stumbled on to Norwood’s movements at a critical time yesterday and this was what was going to happen anyway. It sure would explain why Fullarton had a full guard on overnight last night. They would’v
e seen the Norwood trucks and cars heading closer, assuming they were digging that way in recent days, and there’s a fair chance they knew where that was leading. And defending turf with arrows against guns is probably never going to end well.

  There’s also a chance that what happened last night, with us stumbling onto this soon-to-be battlefront and getting far more involved that we intended to, actually triggered the events of this evening. I mean, what would Norwood have been thinking as they realised their next target was under attack from somebody else? Fullarton obviously serves a key purpose for them for future food supplies and whatever other strategic advantage they had in mind. I can only imagine after digging almost all the way there only to have it potentially ripped away by somebody else would’ve freaked them right out.

  They sent a crew out last night to see what was going on – so they were clearly protecting their future asset. It might also explain why they were pulling the trigger tonight. I wonder if they knew it was us? I’m not sure there’s a bad answer to that when I think about it. If they didn’t know who it was, it would leave them second guessing a lot about who’s who in this leftover city. If they did know it was us, well, it would seem like a pretty bold move – they must feel we were pretty confident in ourselves or our understanding of what’s going on around us to make such a play. Either way, it would be giving them something to think about, and I like that.

  We spent a fair chunk of the night planning our next move to protect ourselves and stay on top of the things going on outside our city walls, while the distant gunfire spat out at a regular rate. Before the serious talking ended, Lana proposed a toast to everyone and the amazing things we’d achieved in recent days. It really was incredible – you could feel the pride.

  Then I took the floor with something that had been on my mind for a while – this seemed like the perfect time. I proposed, since we had completed the boundaries to our new city, that we should think of its name – I suggested we start calling it New Adelaide. Everyone agreed. We toasted and cheered our new name and our day of victories under the distant sound of battle.