by Matt J. Pike
I remember visiting Auntie Mel and Uncle Tony’s farm when I was younger. At night, if you headed away from the lights of the house, you’d look up to see a sky so thick with stars you felt like you could reach out and touch them. It was so vivid you weren’t looking at individual stars, either, they were piled so high upon each other that the densest points became a glow of burning light.
There was something about the stars when they were like that. It made you feel a strange combination of thoroughly insignificant and totally connected – both scary and comforting. I remember feeling should I jump high enough, the glow would catch me like a pool of warm water and I’d be hovering on infinity.
I miss that nearly as much as I miss the sun, more in some ways. The sun represents life and future, but the stars represent connectivity and hope. I’ve seen enough to know the sun is coming back, but the stars, for all I know, they’re nowhere.
*
When I neared the parklands I headed up to Rundle Rd rather than taking my usual path along North Tce. Oh yes, that’s right, in typical nonsensical Adelaide street naming fashion, it was named Rundle St in the CBD, then changed to Rundle Rd in the parklands, only to turn back into Rundle St on the other side. And it starts as a mall at the other end! Seriously – mall, street, road, street – that’s four name changes within a kilometre! I think ole Mr Rundle is having a serious identity crisis.
NOTE TO SELF: I think you have peaked – best example yet. Thanks, me.
Anyway, the reason for the change of approach was I was hoping to find signs of a trail created by yesterday’s ill-fated city explorers. It didn’t take long to pick out their path; they had walked straight down the middle of Rundle Rd. I could see the path trail off up Rundle St (Kent Town), while I followed it the other way to Rundle St (City). I drove Phoenix over the top of the trail, hoping to erase as much as I could.
The recreated murder scene looked pretty convincing the morning after. In fact, a few hours of ash had made it more credible than I’d remembered. Granted, I was viewing it with a torch, but I didn’t think the dim light of day would give anything away. It’s weird, I guess because the adrenalin’s so high, you do what you’ve got to do, but you never feel like you’re thinking clearly. It felt like a good job at the time, but when I was reflecting back on things at home later, I started to doubt everything. Shane and I had done well.
I hovered for a while then headed to the meeting point, erasing yesterday’s footsteps as I went. In fact, I even doubled-back once I’d gotten about 100m past the bodies, then forward again. It gave me three passes to obscure as much evidence of tracks as I could. I even moved Phoenix in this little zigzag pattern to maximise the results. After the third run, I was pretty sure I’d done enough to throw anyone off the scent.
Assuming yesterday’s attackers were from Norwood, and it was looking more and more likely, there would definitely be a search party coming for them today. Well, not just Norwood. If they were from any larger community there’ll be people looking for them.
Despite this, as I drove away from the scene I just kept telling myself that Shane and I were safe, for today at least. Surely, whoever does come will find the bodies, study the scene, assume their guys were outnumbered, then take their fallen and go. It makes the most sense. There are enough unknowns, and dead bodies, that you’d have to be crazy to push forward on foreign territory without knowing what lay ahead.
As for the size of the search party, it’ll be bigger than then original four, surely. Whether it’s 10 or 100 is anyone’s guess.
That seems to make the most sense.
So, even if we’re safe today, I knew tomorrow, or someday real soon, there was a strong chance a small army of people seeking revenge were going to come marching down the street/road/street/mall, armed and ready for blood. That’s a real motivator to move some supplies.
Shane was sitting near the entrance, chewing on a chocolate bar when I got there. “You’re late,” he said.
But it was his casual way that cut through more than his words. I immediately felt safe around him. Well, not safe, exactly, but far more relaxed than the frenzy I’d worked myself into the night before.
I’d been spending some time on the way here thinking about the best plan to drain as many supplies as we could in the shortest time. I shared it with Shane at that point, telling him if we could manage to clear and lever open one of the back doors to the warehouse, we could drive Phoenix to within inches of the food, load up and leave. It would be a bit of hard work to set up, but would save hours at the other end – hours! Best of all, Phoenix would be out of the sight of prying eyes in the mall.
So, that’s what we set about doing. It’s amazing how a second pair of hands can motivate you to work quicker. Shane may have been skinny, but he was strong – wiry, I guess. We agreed on which entry point looked like the least work to open and set about making it happen. I had a shovel in Phoenix’s supplies, so we took turns working that, while the other person pulled away the larger pieces of debris, boxes or body parts that were in the way. It was a good system and we had dug out the length of the roller door within the hour. Of course the door was locked, and while I was about to start attacking the sides of the roller door with the shovel, Shane directed my attention to a little booth to the side of the warehouse. Before I knew what was happening, he’d broken a window and fished out two huge sets of keys.
He threw one at me as he said some smartass comment about being nearly convinced I had a brain, until the evidence said otherwise. Worse still, as he said it, I dropped the keys from his very reasonable throw. I could’ve made the excuse that his torchlight temporarily blinded me (which it so did), but what was the point? I just bent down to pick up the keys in my shame, then started trying them out one by one.
Meanwhile, Shane had started on the contents of the boxes we’d moved to clear the door. He started making a pile of supplies worthy to take with us. It was in that time that my suspicions around him dropped to almost nothing. There’s a vibe you get with people. I can’t put words to it, but I just know. I mean, we’re different ages, from different backgrounds… in fact, the only similarity we probably have is that we are survivors. No, not just survivors – damn good, independent-thinking, practical survivors.
The way we worked that room – setting up the dig, working around each other to get the job done, thinking practically, on-the-fly, in the moment – that’s how I knew we could work together. I was watching it happen like we were each one hand of a larger organism. I felt it… and so did he. We had the banter going too. He mocked me over how long I was taking with the keys, I returned fire, asking if he could find anything more nutritious than biscuits to add to the stockpile. He told me to ‘get stuffed’ and we smiled.
I know trust can take a long time, especially here at the end of the world, and I wouldn’t be naively diving in head first, but I knew this had potential at the very least. Oh my God, I sound like I’m a chick going on her first date and not wanting to put out too early!
I finally got the gate opened and we start loading supplies into Phoenix. We chatted plans while we loaded up. It was agreed we would scout a spot at Adelaide Oval to store our stash. I had told him about the place and the reasons I’d chosen it. He told me he’d been through there many times (he also said the footprints were probably his), and he also had some spots he thought would be perfect.
Then it was a matter of trust, one we shook on. He told me he had set up headquarters not far from the oval and I told him where I was based. We both had independent stashes of supplies and agreed it gave us the distance to think clearly over the Woolworths stocks. We figured his proximity to the oval well and truly offset the range and capability Phoenix gave me. For all intents and purposes we were evenly invested in this.
So, mission No.1 became get as much stock as possible from Woolworths to a secure location at Adelaide Oval in the shortest time. And that’s what we did. When the first load was on board, Shane directed me to his spot of
choice behind the members stand on the western side of the ground. We unloaded and returned for more. The round trip didn’t take that long and we’d managed to unload the third batch before sitting down to lunch. I followed Shane up through the bowels of the stand until we reached one of the media commentary boxes. He laughed with self-satisfied success when we arrived, sat down, slapped his food and drink on the table and kicked his feet up in front of him. “How good’s the view?” he said.
It didn’t take much to agree – this was about as close to prime Adelaide Oval seating as you could get – western side, centre wing – it felt like you were almost hanging over the edge of the former playing surface.
It was a pretty perfect moment – apart from the volume with which Shane chewed his food. I eventually kicked my feet back and dared to dream of what this place could bring if we really could work together and get things right. We both started coming up with random ideas of how to fix the place up for security, self-defence and a thousand other things that needed contemplating. It was exciting. I had someone to talk to, a bucket-load of supplies, a castle to house them in, good food and the best seat in the house!
We managed to get another seven runs in before we called it a day at about 6.30pm. By that time, just about all of the decent supplies on the ground level had been relocated. Sure, there was probably a lot more about, but that required sifting through the ash/tsunami damage – time-consuming work. There were also the goodies still downstairs, but the most important part was, if/when the raiders return, they’ll find only leftovers, not the lottery, and that was probably the difference between a one-day smash and grab and wanting to relocate to the city.
Then it came to the awkward moment when we parted ways for the day. The stash of supplies we were both leaving behind was huge, more than either of us could handle, so, in a way, it was safe for the night. But were we safe from each other? For all the rapport we had built up over the day, it had still come to this point where we were both vulnerable. Either one of us could end the other at that moment and double their stock. It would be so easy. In the end, what we’d been through in the last day and a half, and what we could potentially build here, well, that seemed to win the moment, for today at least.
I hovered him (I’m not sure if the term will stick but I going with it for now) down King William Rd, where he went left to North Adelaide and I headed right to North Tce and home.
On the way back I took a little detour to Rundle St to visit our four late friends. The bodies were gone. There were new footprints in the ash, a lot of new footprints. I tried to channel my inner tracker to guess possible numbers, but the markings were too chaotic to draw conclusions. Even the tracks heading back east had been tampered with. My guess is the rescue team were dragging the bodies behind them. It makes sense, but it didn’t give me any help in guessing their number.
I was there for about 15 minutes and it triggered a lot of emotions… not the least of which was dread. The game had changed again today. Hell, it’s moving so fast I barely feel like I can keep up, and I’ve been a big part of calling the shots. Sure, today we were one step ahead of the chasing pack, but that’s going to change sometime soon, and when it does, Shane and I better be ready.
*
My favourite part of the day – I’m exhausted and really need some serious sleep before another early start, but my mind is working overtime on everything that’s happened. I need my reflection time… stupid reflection.
I started thinking about Shane and wondered what today meant. I mean, we worked well together today, really well and, more importantly, neither of us killed the other. So that’s a thing.
He’s good Shane – a genuine survivor – someone who’s had to do it all by himself for a long time. I can tell; it takes one to know one. And we’re a rare breed. Most people have gathered together in packs – either lucky enough to be inside one of the shopping hubs, or dying to get there. At the end of the day, total population numbers are hard to guess, and solo survivor numbers impossible. Maybe we aren’t rarer, but we are definitely harder to spot in the wild.
I hope it stays that way too, at least for the two of us, because we are held together by a bunch of supplies, our castle, which is currently less secure than, well, any other part of the city, and a handshake.
I thought about the Norwood hubbers again, or whoever it was that came for their dead today. It made my stomach drop away thinking about the resources that could potentially be sent at us… and sooner rather than later.
Already, I could see future pressure being applied to the bond Shane and I started to build today. Is there any chance of us establishing a true connection before the pressure applied against us breaks it? It is easier to be a loner, after all. Is permanent even a real thing these days? Like, when we parted company, maybe each day would have a moment, an, ‘am I getting enough out of this collaboration to continue’ moment. Because we both know the other knows, at any time, either of us are only one swift evil act from doubling their supplies. How do you ever overcome that?
That’s the thing about relationships – they’re all good when they’re new, when they’ve crossed that first hurdle of trust and the future is seen through rose-coloured glasses, but you’re never going to know if you’re in a good one until times are tough and you’re in it together… or it’s too late and one of you isn’t.
And really, I’m projecting way too far forward on all of this for tonight. I guess it’s the need to have something sure and finite in the future. Nothing is. What I do know is, we have to lock down at least part of the oval tomorrow. We have to stash our stock, think of defence and protection and, whatever we plan, we’ll have to execute damn fast.
*
October 16, 2014
Another early start ignoring all protocol… except the need to avoid Norwood like the plague. I was meeting Shane back at the oval this morning, or base camp, or headquarters, or… actually, we need a cool name for it... anyways, that place… I was meeting him there.
Despite some of the days warming up to the point where my second jumper and beanie could come off in the heat, the mornings (especially pre-dawn) are still icy cold. Any exposed skin would know all about it when Phoenix was at cruising speed too. This morning, there was a little spot around my throat that copped it. Once I’d started the hovercraft it seemed too small a deal to stop for, so I just endured the localised freeze-blast until I reached the oval. I put a hand up to cover the spot but it’s not the same! I know, I know, as far as problems in the apocalypse go, it’s pretty minor, but I have just as much of a right to be annoyed as all those self-absorbed first-world-problems pre-rock folk.
Actually, beyond the freezing, horrid and quite often stinking conditions, there aren’t too many redeeming features about, well, the weather… or the city… or anything now that I think about it. I’d love to see how they would sell the city to tourists these days, should tourists still exist.
“Welcome to Adelaide! Every day’s… an adventure. The vacancy rates are high and the temperature is low. The locals are dying to meet you. We even had a glimmer of sunshine last week!”
That’s as good as I’ve got at short notice… probably why I wasn’t considering marketing at uni.
Focus, Jack, focus.
Oh, yeah, it’s my birthday, so, yay. I’m not sure how I expected to feel celebrating my first birthday in the apocalypse. It really wasn’t much different than any other day, with no one who really knew me to celebrate with. And I was turning 18, that’s supposed to be the big one – able to vote, drink alcohol and everything. But really, voting isn’t a thing anymore and drinking, I do when and where I feel like it. No, that number didn’t mean anything to me here. As for the date itself, it barely seemed worth celebrating. I mulled over whether it was even worth mentioning it to Shane. Apart from that, I felt empty… I missed my family, I missed Fi.
*
Once again Shane was waiting for me when I arrived, once again eating chocolate. Just something ab
out the look on his face made me think it was going to be a recurring theme of his… getting there first and chewing his food of choice. Maybe I’ll mess with him tomorrow morning and beat him there with a Snickers! But, then again, maybe not. I’m already struggling from the lack of sleep as it is – who can be bothered?
We sat down and while I loaded up on energy food, I told him about the bodies and we started to put together a plan of how to set the oval up to be as safe as possible in the short term and beyond.
Shane seemed to know the place really well and he helped draw up a plan that isolated us to the pavilion stand in the members area on the western side. It was a pretty clever set-up and gave us a line of sight to anyone coming through from the Riverbank stand side (south), the north via the hill, or from the east, whilst restricting the amount of entry points to where we were. We didn’t really worry too much about line of sight with the west – it was a tsunami wasteland.
The set-up also gave us three exit points for Phoenix if the heat did come our way. We could also spread our supplies across a number of different rooms and function areas, so in the unlikely event that we did get raided, we should be able to hide the bulk of our stash. So that was our mission for the day - fortification.
That was phase one of getting defences covered, but we also needed to think about protection – armed protection (especially if it is the Norwood crew). If time allowed in the afternoon, we planned to do a little recon not far from the markets to where Shane says there used to be a couple of gun stores. Hopefully we can salvage something to arm ourselves with, because a crossbow and a few knives aren’t really going to cut it if the hordes ever do come knocking.
