by Wilde, J. M.
“Have you been traveling alone since the outbreak?” I asked, wanting to distract myself with conversation.
“Pretty much,” she said. “I was with my girlfriend, Skye, for the first day or so. We were in Sydney ... when it happened. But we got separated. I’ve been looking for her ever since. I came here, back to our hometown, to see if she went to her parents’ house, but ...” She trailed off, and I could only imagine what she found there. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Skye wasn’t there. What about you? You got people somewhere?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I was traveling with three friends in an RV. But I lost them when the river took me. We were all headed to Sydney together, so I’m hoping they’ll be there.”
“Maybe ...” she paused, taking in a deep breath. “Maybe my girlfriend will be on the ship, too.”
“There’s always a chance,” I said. “We gotta believe.”
“But what if they’re not?” she said, a sense of panic in her words. “What if our people are not there? Do we just leave without them?”
I turned my attention to the scenery out my window, not wanting to hear what she was saying. But I couldn’t deny that I’d worried about that myself. “I don’t know.”
“But,” she said, suddenly optimistic, having noticed the concern in my voice. “They could be there. There’s a good chance they’re all there already. Let’s just focus on that.”
I didn’t say anything as we pushed ahead, the trees and farmland rushing past us in a green blur. Lea hadn’t realised it, but she had just put my greatest fear into words.
The only thing that scared me more than the idea of missing that ship to freedom, was the thought of getting on it without the people I loved.
Chapter Seven
“What the hell is that?” Lea leaned forward over the steering wheel, squinting at something up ahead.
I followed her gaze to see two men fighting on the side of the road. At first I thought it was a fistfight between two hitchhikers, but then one of them took a bite out of the other. It clamped onto the poor man’s neck, tearing his flesh away from his bones, sending blood and vocal cords snapping free into the air.
“What do we do?” Lea asked, easing her foot off the accelerator.
“We can’t stop,” I said, making sure my passenger door was locked. I watched as the man went limp in the zombie’s hands, falling to the ground. “He’s already dead.”
But Lea continued to slow the car. “Is that a petrol can next to him?”
I looked again and realised she was right. A red can had been dropped on the ground next to the body, tipping petrol over the soil.
“Oh God,” I said. “He must have been taking petrol to that car we drove by earlier.”
“We need that can,” Lea said, suddenly pushing hard on the pedal, launching us forward. She turned the steering wheel, veering towards the zombie. The creature was so enthralled in its fresh feast that it didn’t hear us speeding towards it. I ensured my seatbelt was tight and held on as the car slammed into it, feeling a bump as the bodies flattened under the wheels. Lea pushed the gearstick into reverse and put her foot down again, making me lurch forward as the car sped backwards. I looked over the dashboard to see what remained of the corpses, and it wasn’t pretty. The two bodies had been crushed into one another to the point that I couldn’t decipher where one ended and the other began. It was a mess of blood and body parts so disturbing that I had to look away.
Lea rested a palm on the shoulder of my seat as she twisted around to look out the rear windshield while she reversed the car over to the petrol can.
“Quick,” she said as she pulled the car to a stop again. “Grab it.”
I opened my door to see the can sitting right next to the car, close enough to reach. I leaned out and grabbed the handle, lifting it carefully to prevent any more liquid from leaking out. I placed it on my lap and pulled the door closed before we sped off again. The smell of petrol filled the car, making us lift our shirts over our noses as we steered back onto the highway.
A few miles later, Lea pulled over and got out to pour what was left of the petrol into the car. “We’re so lucky, Eva,” she said as she sat back in and slammed the door. “That gave us just enough to get to Sydney.”
An hour and a half later, we were driving through the inner city streets of Sydney, which were eerily quiet and deserted.
“Where is everyone?” Lea said, more to herself than to me. We were keenly aware of any signs of movement, our sense for danger on edge with the knowledge that we were entering the heart of the nationwide chaos, the eye of the bio-chemical storm. We turned a corner to be greeted by the sight of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, tall and looming as it arched over the ocean. We needed to cross it to get to the port and meet the ship.
“Road block.” Lea pulled the car to the curb and turned off the engine. She was right, police cars and barriers had been set up to block access to the bridge. “We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
I grabbed my satchel, making sure the folder was in there before I slipped it over my shoulder. I picked up the hammer, but Lea swatted it away.
“Put that in your bag as a back-up,” she said. “I’ve got better weapons in the boot.”
I stepped out and met her at the back of the car just as the boot swung open, revealing a collection of huge knives, a steel baseball bat, a machete and an axe.
“These two are mine,” she said as she took the baseball bat and machete. “You can take your pick of the rest.”
“Where did you get all these?” I asked as I picked up the axe and the largest kitchen knife.
“Something else I’ve learned in this mess: you can never have too many weapons.” She carried the machete and slid the baseball bat in between her belt and her jeans. I put the knife in my bag and held the axe over my shoulder as we started walking towards the entrance to the bridge. We were about to cross the last road before the bridge when Lea stopped.
“Hey, didn’t you say you and your friends had an RV?” she asked as she pointed down the street. I turned to see an RV—my RV—smashed into a building. Its front was crushed, pinning a small group of zombies against the brick wall. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of it, all crumpled and wrecked. I ran to it as fast as I could, weaving in and out of cars and leaping over decaying bodies. Reaching the RV, I pulled the door open so hard it slammed against the outside wall of the cabin and the rattling sound it made echoed through the abandoned city streets. I leapt inside, breathing a sigh of relief to see it empty.
“Anyone in there?” Lea asked as she caught up to me.
“It’s empty,” I said. “That means they’re okay. They weren’t injured in the crash.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, eyeing something on the carpet in front of me. I looked down to see a shallow pool of blood, no bigger than my hand. I touched it to find it lukewarm, meaning they couldn’t be too far away. I looked around the cabin, trying to piece together what had happened. I noticed blood on the corner of the kitchenette counter and surmised that someone must have hit their head on it in the crash. I bit my bottom lip, hoping it wasn’t serious. Lea stepped out of the RV and scanned the road. “The blood has left a trail. Looks like it goes towards the bridge. We can follow it.”
I stepped out of the RV for the last time and closed the door, quietly thanking it for getting my friends and I to safety time and time again. We would never have survived without it. “Let’s go.” I followed Lea as she led me across the road and into a dark stairwell.
“This goes up to the walkway across the bridge,” she said as we started our way up the tower. The sunlight shone through the above exit, casting sharp shadows on the angles of each step, making the drops of blood visible every few feet.
We emerged from the stairway and froze in shock. The bridge was full to capacity with cars and overrun by zombies, evidence of the widespread panic that must have occurred there during the first days of the outbreak. Luckily fo
r us, the walkway was separated from the road by a tall steel and barbed wire fence, which would keep us safe if we hurried. There had to be thousands of rotters on that bridge, more than enough to knock the fence down if they all caught sight of us.
“Jesus,” Lea said, her jaw hanging open at the sight. “We better run for it.”
We started running across the bridge, picking up our pace with every decaying head that turned in our direction. There were zombies on the walkway too, but they had all been killed, each one lying on the ground or strewn against the fence with cracked skulls. Something I could no doubt thank Jo, Wyatt, Ben and Hunter for if I ever saw them again.
Lea nodded at one of the bleeding corpses on the walkway. “Looks like your friends have saved us the hard work here.”
“Thank God for that,” I said as I ran alongside her. I curiously watched the zombies on the other side of the fence, imagining how horrifying their last moments as humans must have been. Those poor souls trying to escape the terror, only to be trapped amongst it. Stuck on the bridge in a failed attempt at quarantining the area. They were sitting ducks, easy prey for the monsters that would have found and consumed them within hours. The steel skeleton of the bridge stood tall while its concrete and tar was tarnished by the constant hum of living skeletons dragging their feet along it. The sight of thousands of zombies traipsing back and forth along the bridge contrasted heavily against the backdrop of cloudless skies and sparkling blue ocean. Never had I understood this new reality more clearly: this was their city now. They were in control. And if we didn’t make it onto the rescue ship, I knew it wouldn’t be long before we were on the other side of the fence, too, pacing mindlessly and devouring whatever, or rather, whoever, was unlucky enough to cross our path.
Groans and ear-piercing screeches echoed over the bridge as the zombies became aware of our presence, and a mosh pit of sorts started to form as they pushed against each other to follow us. A loud creak caught my attention, and I turned to see the fence bending under the weight of the hundreds of bodies pressing against it. Dozens of them were falling over the small concrete barrier to get to the fence, and I was amazed they had the motor skills to get so close to it. I noticed a bend in the fence that had been created earlier, probably when they converged against it when my friends ran past, slaughtering zombies on their way. The wire had been weakened in certain parts, both behind and ahead of us. If any part of it gave out, we’d be trapped and torn to shreds as thousands of zombies fought to get their share of us.
“We need to move faster,” I said. My body was still weak, and even though we were already more than halfway across the bridge, I wasn’t sure I could push myself much harder. But I had to. I winced in pain as I forced my legs to move quicker and my arms to swing harder, using the very real threat of a violent death to spur me on. I turned my gaze to my left, choosing to focus on the view of the ocean instead of on the monsters. The Sydney Opera House shone brightly, gleaming in the sunlight and completely unaffected from the hell erupting all around it. I wondered how long it would be until it crumbled to pieces like everything else.
“Do you hear that?” Lea asked as she wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. I tried to listen, but all I could hear was my thumping heartbeat. She looked up at the sky, squinting into the sunlight. I looked up and gasped at what I saw.
“Is that a plane?” I asked breathlessly, watching the white metal bird flying above us in disbelief.
“Yeah,” she replied, although it sounded more like a question than an answer.
We watched it with wide, hopeful eyes. After a few minutes, it started leaving a trail of white smoke and began twisting and curving its way through the air.
“It’s a skywriter!” I said excitedly.
After what seemed like an eternity of watching it write one fading letter after another as we ran, we were able to decipher the message:
RESCUE COMING. CQ WHARF. 24HRS.
“What’s CQ?” I asked.
“Circular Quay.” Lea pointed down to the city in front of us. “It’s just there. We could be there in ten minutes.”
“But we can’t wait there for 24 hours,” I said, looking down at the zombies running rampant along the wharf. “We have to find somewhere safe to hide tonight. Somewhere close.” My lungs hurt as I spoke, trying to breathe while running and talking at the same time.
Lea scanned the array of buildings laid out in front of us. From above, the city looked calm, save for a few burned out cars and broken office windows. Anyone who looked closer for more than a second could see how dangerous it was down there. But the closer we got to the end of the bridge, I realised we first had to worry about the danger immediately in front of us before we even thought about the danger below.
“Lea,” I said, stopping in fear. “The fence stops up ahead.” Doubt filled my mind. Without a fence protecting us from the gridlocked road, it was unlikely we would make it through unscathed.
“I know,” she said, still running. “C’mon, it’s okay. This side of the bridge is blocked too. The military did it shortly after the outbreak.” Lea said as we approached the end of the fenced walkway. I could see army tanks, police cars and barriers set up at the end of the bridge, making the rest of the highway completely empty. I sighed in relief, grateful that we didn’t have to attempt a sprint past a horde, but then a horrible realization occurred to me: people had been trapped on the bridge on purpose. The Sydney Harbour Bridge had been used as a gigantic steel cage to trap the infected, damning them all to a grisly fate.
“We’re almost there,” Lea said, saving me from the disturbing images that had been swirling around in my mind.
A few minutes later, we reached the exiting stairwell and stopped for a break under its safe and shadowed arched covering. I leaned against the cool stone wall, pulling my water bottle out of my bag as I caught my breath. My legs shook with exhaustion and sweat rolled down my back, but I didn’t care. I had made it over the bridge.
Chapter Eight
After a short break to catch our breath, we ventured on, keeping track of the blood trail as we went. With our energy already depleting, we chose to tread carefully but swiftly, hiding behind cars and creeping around buildings to avoid the stray zombies on the streets. We entered a beautiful part of the city that looked to have been there for centuries. Narrow lanes, historical sandstone buildings and old townhouses surrounded us. It was like we had stepped back in time. Turning a corner, we came across a street filled with overturned shop stalls and rotting food. My heart sank when I saw the blood trail disappear into a maze of squashed fruit, vegetables and disgustingly decayed bodies.
“This is The Rocks,” Lea said as she stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the damage. “It was market day here when the outbreak hit. I used to come here with Skye.” Her voice cracked at the end, choking up at the thought of her girlfriend.
“We’ve gotta keep moving,” I said, pulling her by the hand. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew if we spent too much time thinking about the people we’d lost, sadness would overwhelm us. We could not allow ourselves to feel. Our lives depended on it.
Attracted by our voices, a zombie popped its head up from behind a broken stall. It stood up, holding a dismembered foot in its hand, munching on the little flesh that remained.
“Ugh,” Lea sighed as she walked towards it with her machete held high. “I hate these god-damned things.” She swung at it, slicing into its neck but not completely taking the head off. The creature fell to the ground, and Lea finished it off by crushing her foot down onto its skull. We continued walking quietly, I tried not to breathe through my nose to avoid the potent smell of rotting food and bodies that filled the air.
The sound of an engine interrupted our silence. As it grew closer, I knew it wasn’t just an engine I could hear, but the sound of blades cutting through the air. It was the unmistakable sound of a helicopter. Lea and I looked up and around, but it was nowhere to be seen.
Lea held
her palm over her forehead to block out the sun as she looked. “It sounds so close.”
A second later, it flew over the top of the buildings and into view. It was so close I could see someone in a military uniform and helmet leaning out, holding a large brown bag in one hand and scooping something out of it. He lifted a pile of papers out of the bag and flipped them into the air. We watched as the pieces of paper floated down onto the street. It flew over us, and to our elation the officer saw us and waved. We waved back, and it felt so surreal to have some kind of contact with someone from the outside world after so long in isolation. He pointed to a new pile of papers in his hand before throwing them down and giving us a thumbs-up. The flyers rained down over us, and we reached up to catch them, curious to see what they were. I grabbed hold of one and held it out to read it:
ATTENTION! PICK ME UP!
This flyer was dropped from a US Army helicopter.
For all uninfected survivors, we are coming to save you.
Be at Circular Quay wharf tomorrow (24th Oct) for rescue. Rescue boats will stay at port as long as is safely possible. For best chance of rescue, arrive at wharf early.
– Australian, British and US forces with assistance from the UN.
I folded the flyer and slipped it into my bag before I gave the officer a final wave and watched the helicopter disappear over the buildings into the next street.
“That was awesome,” I said, suddenly feeling energized by our encounter.
“You know,” Lea said as she watched the last flyer fall to the ground. “This time tomorrow, we’ll be on the ship. We’ll be safe.”
I flashed her a wide smile, excited by the mere thought of getting to the ship. But in my peripheral vision, I saw something that wiped that smile off my face. The fear in Lea’s eyes told me she saw it too.
