Desolation Boulevard

by Mark Gordon

  Chapter 61

  Extract From Sally’s Journal:

  “It’s early in the morning and I’m sitting on the front veranda with my journal, a cup of coffee and a bowl of muesli (thank goodness for powdered milk). I haven’t written for a few days because I wanted to give myself some headspace. These are the first days since the “event” (as we all call it now) where I’ve had a chance to slow down and consider my state of mind and what the future might hold for us survivors

  Matt’s farm is beautiful. It’s called “Two Hills” and is very pretty, like something from a child’s storybook. Being here has given us a chance to recuperate from the horrors we’ve endured over the last week or so, and at times you could almost imagine that outside of the big fence, everything is normal. Those moments don’t last very long, however, and it’s not unusual to walk into a room and find somebody crying on their own as they think of the family and friends they have lost. It’s weird what can set you off crying now - things you don’t expect. Like yesterday. I was sitting out on the front veranda after lunch, daydreaming, and I started to think about the places I used to visit on the weekends. One of my most treasured places was the State Art Gallery. Every time there was a new exhibition I’d catch a train to the city and walk through the parks to the gallery and check out the new works. Then I’d go to the rooms that housed the masterpieces and visit old favourites by artists like Picasso or Monet. Looking at these beautiful works made me think of the incredible achievements human beings have made over just a few short millennia, and it made me proud of us as a species. But then I started to think about what the gallery would look like now. It has probably become a nesting place for feeders, which means that it would be filled with rotting corpses, excrement and filth. The artworks would still be hanging (if they hadn’t been destroyed to build nests with) and yet there will never again be an appreciative audience for them. I know that is a strange thing to get upset about, given everything else that’s happened, but I just broke down and sobbed for ages. Then Dylan came by, and when I told him why I was crying he just raised his eyebrows and kept going, as if I was being really stupid.

  On the whole, though, everybody’s getting on with things and we’re relieved to have a few days where we don’t have to consider that we might actually die. It’s really touching to see Bonnie and Gabby back together. They hardly leave each other’s side, and Gabby had great fun showing the “new arrivals” around the farm. She was especially proud of the bookmobile classroom and told Bonnie that Montana was her “teacher”. It was so cute. Matt is a really nice boy and he has made sure that we all feel at home. I think it’s been good for him to have another male around the place, because Dylan and him spend most of their time doing things around the farm that will give us a reliable and sustainable future (we hope). They spent most of yesterday making the fence stronger by running barbed wire across the top and electrifying it, like you would for cattle. But we all know it’s not to keep cows out! Bonnie is pretty handy too, and she has taken control of the food situation and the vegetable garden. She showed Montana and I how to make bread from flour, yeast, and water and insists that it won’t be long before we’re experts. Every time I catch myself doing something “farmsy”, like pulling weeds or feeding the chickens, I have a little chuckle to myself, because it’s so not me! My self-image has always been as the artsy, sophisticated, city slicker yet here I am getting around for most of the day covered in dirt and doing jobs that I didn’t even realise existed.

  Montana is the one who surprises me the most, though. She’s so strong under pressure. We had some time alone yesterday, while the boys went into town (more about that later) and Bonnie was in the classroom with Gabby. We were picking vegetables for dinner and she told me about the things she’d been through since the event, and I just got a feeling that she’s got the skills and attitude to survive this crazy, post-civilisation world really well. Whatever happens to us, I think she’ll adapt and find a way to carry on. She comes across as a bit glamorous (she still puts makeup on every morning), but she’s really tough and unflappable.

  The boys went to town yesterday morning to get the fencing supplies and came back with some really interesting news. They encountered a band of survivors passing through town, who had stopped to fill up their cars with petrol. Altogether there were six people in two cars. They had left the city just two days ago, and said that plenty of others were doing the same. According to them, some survivors were having really strong dreams about a place out west that was like a gathering place. They described it to Matt and Dylan and said that it was as if they were being called, and they had to follow, regardless of how strange it seemed. They weren’t sure exactly where they were heading, but they were hoping that their future dreams would guide them. They said they had nothing to lose, anyway, because the cities were destroyed and they wanted to start over somewhere new, somewhere with no memories. They told the boys that there was no fear in the dreams, just a sense of going to a place where they would belong. When Matt told us the story he wondered if the place they were dreaming about was Diamond Creek, the town that Bill had mentioned. It sounded as if it could be true, anyway. It’s very strange to think that people are leaving the old ways behind so quickly, so willingly. I wonder how future generations will view the remnants of our world? Sometimes I wonder if there will even be future generations!

  The other thing the travellers told Matt and Dylan was that the feeders are becoming more active again. They said that people who were not finding strong places to sleep at night were being killed. The creatures seem to be getting not only stronger, but also more cunning. The boys were told stories of creatures breaking into houses to feed on resting travellers. It seems like the only truly safe place for survivors now is in the daylight, or strongly fortified buildings. We haven’t seen any feeders near the farm but we know we can’t take anything for granted. Last night the lights outside the farm’s fence were triggered, but when we went out to check, we just found a small group of kangaroos passing through. Let’s hope that’s all we have to worry about!

  Montana’s just joined me for breakfast, so I’ll stop now.

  It’s almost ten o’clock now and everybody else is in bed (we rise early in the country!). I’m writing at the kitchen table while listening to Dylan snore in the living room. Guess what? We had a visitor this afternoon. It was a lady by the name of Violet. She was eighty-three years old! We were all pottering around the farm, doing chores and stuff, when she just came strolling up the front path like she was dropping in for a cup of tea and a chat (we don’t lock the big front gate during the day). I almost dropped my basket of eggs from shock when I noticed her! She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a baseball cap that said Funk! She had a backpack on, and looked extremely weary, but was excited to see us, nevertheless. I made her sit in the shade of the veranda and went inside to get her a cool drink. When I came back she had been joined by Montana and the boys who were listening to her tell her tale. She, too, had experienced “the dream”, and felt compelled to head west, like the others. She had walked some of the way (a fit old bird, that’s for sure), but had accepted occasional lifts also, which was how she ended up in Millfield. Three travellers who were heading west had picked her up near Carswell, but she asked them to drop her off at Millfield. When we asked why, her reply amazed us. She looked at us and simply said, “I wanted to see the girl.”

  The three of us sat there, scarcely comprehending what we had just heard. Dylan was the first to speak up, “What girl, Violet? We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She gave Dylan the sweetest, most beatific smile you could imagine and said, “Nice try, honey. I understand why you want to protect her, but you don’t need to worry. I just want to see her once before I continue on. I’m no danger to her. I couldn’t be this close to her and not try to meet her.”

  Then Violet told us about the other dream she’d been having. The one where she feels she is in terrible danger, and is saved on
ly by the presence of a little girl - our little girl. Gabby! Apparently Violet sensed her presence more strongly as she got closer to Millfield. Then she just started walking and ended up here at the farm. She looked at us and said, “I knew she was real. Can I please see her? Then I’ll leave you alone. It would mean so much to me.”

  We weren’t sure what to do, but our decision was made for us when Gabby and Bonnie came out of the classroom. We all stood up and I could tell that the boys were on high alert in case something went wrong (like it had with Bill). It didn’t though. Gabby walked up to Violet and said hello politely, at which time Violet started to cry. “It’s her,” she said. “It really is.”

  Gabby looked and Bonnie and said, “Mummy, why is she crying?” but Bonnie just shook her head and took Gabby’s hand and took her inside the house to have a bath.

  Violet didn’t ask to stay the night, and nobody offered, but Dylan did drive her back into town, and made sure she had somewhere secure to sleep for the night. The old woman was confident that she would be able to get a ride with travellers tomorrow morning so that she could continue her journey west and find the place from her dreams. Dylan said that before he left town to come home, Violet grabbed him be the arm and told him that there would be others stopping by the farm to see Gabby, adding, “She’s special you see.” Dylan said he felt a chill as he wished the old woman good luck for her journey.

  During dinner nobody talked much about the traveller’s dreams because I think it scared us so much. We seem to be in the eye of a hurricane that we don’t understand. It is becoming clearer with each passing day that the little girl is going to be a key figure in our new world, but none of us can comprehend how. I have a feeling that Gabby is the only one of us who is sleeping soundly tonight.