Apocalypse [Book 2]

by Matt J. Pike

  We’ve thought about blowing the siren once a week, or once a day even – just a call out to whoever is lost in the ash. We have debated this long and hard. We know we could grow our numbers – it’s proven. But it’s also a calling card to everyone within earshot... and there are many we don’t want invited to the party any time soon. And with what’s going on somewhere out there in the eastern suburbs – whatever that gunfire has been – well, we don’t want to bring those problems any closer to our doorstep than they have already been. So, if that means keeping a low profile for now, that’s what we’ll do.

  As for Alyce and Duncan, well, that has been a very hard situation to deal with personally. Alyce is the one person alive (that I know of) who connects me to this world pre-rock. Duncan was there the day my entire post-rock life changed. He may not have killed Fi himself, but he was there and I can never forgive him for that.

  I don’t even know if he knows what happened in the end. He just ran. But he never looks me in the eye... ever. It drives me crazy. Can’t even look me in the eye. He takes away the only person I loved post-rock then runs away! And if that’s not enough, his world falls apart... again, then he finds salvation... with my former lover in the world I built out of the ashes of what he did... and he can’t even look me in the eye.

  Which means Alyce is just about off limits, too. Today’s conversation by Phoenix was about as much alone time as we ever get, which sucks just about as much as all the Duncan stuff combined. I want to spend time with her, in fact, I probably need it in ways I’m not prepared to admit to myself just yet perhaps. But I can’t have it.

  But today’s conversation, that’s Alyce looking out for me, I know. Whatever is happening with him and her, it’s definitely inhibiting her behaviour around me. Every now and then she finds a few moments to appear, say a few words, then disappear just as quickly.

  I know what she means... and I appreciate it.

  I don’t even know her story yet; I don’t know what happened to her dad, I don’t know what happened to her brother and mum at TTP. I don’t know how she met up with Duncan – none of it. But I do know this – of the entire population of the oval, there is only one person I don’t trust and his name is Duncan.

  *

  Thought for the day

  I’ve started using the term citizen a bit, both writing and in conversation. In fact, I’ve heard a few others use it, too. I’m not even sure where it started but it seems to be catching on. I think it’s a good descriptive term for who we are – it seems to describe a step above survivor; a next level or something. It also has a sense about it, that the title is earned through behaviours and contributions.

  So, I’m going to do my best to keep its use in fashion.

  And it’s also got me thinking of something else. If we’re all citizens (with the possible exclusion of Duncan, sorry, bitter me wrote that), then what are we citizens of?

  Maybe we need a name. A name for everything we’ve created here. A name for the place we’ve put everything we are into.

  This is a good idea. I’m going to keep it to myself for now, while I mull it over, but I’m going to come up with something and put it forward to the group.

  Well, better get prepped for the fish feast

  *

  I could even design a flag. I’m getting seriously excited about this. OK, food time.

  *

  So much love at the feast tonight, the mood was better than I can ever remember. The four of us – the providers of fish – were the stars of the show. We must’ve spent the best part of an hour recalling the trip and everything we’d seen and learned. Ye-jun, Kelly and I seemed to adopt the role of narrators of the trip itself; we’ve spent so much time together now, there’s a sort of rhythm to how we talk into each other. That goes double so when we have a captive audience. Then there was the fishing. Nate was more than prepared to retell all this morning’s anecdotes to a slightly bigger audience. In fact, you could tell he was waiting patiently for us to get through the boring how-we-got-there story so he could step up to the plate on the how-we-caught-a-shitload-of-fish stories. And step up he did. Already he was honing the way he told all the little moments, getting them story match fit. He added a little embellishment here and some outright exaggeration there. I definitely raised an eyebrow more than once at his version of the truth. But the end result was a thoroughly captivated audience and another key moment in our history being turned into legend.

  I just ended up smiling to myself when he hit the bullshit button, knowing there was a greater positive happening, for all of us. I was also smiling at Nate. He was in his element and it was making him become a different person – a leader in his own way. He owned that story now and that story was his belonging in the community.

  It was slightly offset by the knowledge I would hear this same anecdote for as long as the two of us were still alive and in this place... complete with added exaggeration over time, no doubt.

  Not only was the moment and its retelling strengthening us as a community, it was firming our bonds with the newer members. I mean, if they didn’t realise they were a part of something amazing before, surely they did now. What we, as a community, have done to this point is amazing, when I stop and think about it. We joined forces, we built something positive, we played smart and are planning for a future that is totally achievable, especially after our trip. That trip, well, it almost feels like it’s broken the back of the darkness in a way. Because up until we reeled in those fish, everything we were doing still came with the massive rider that it could all be for nothing. We were still living in the world of finite resources. Now, though, we have a clear path past that. It’s almost as though we’ve been treading water for all these months and someone’s just thrown us a lifejacket.

  *

  I try to pay as much attention to the newbies as I can. When you let someone into a community like this, you just have to. And while I’m studying them for trustworthiness at one level, I’m really just trying to learn who they are on another. You can pick up so much when you observe the little moments when they feel they’re not being looked at. Who are the talkers, the doers, the ones who feel they don’t fit in, the ones who just need a little encouragement to come out of their shell?

  I don’t file it away as specific information, I just kind of let it wash over me and slowly build up a general picture of who each of them is, what may drive them, how they might best find their belonging in our group and, maybe, how they respond when shit hits the fan.

  *

  At the same time, things have changed. This place is so self-sustaining it doesn’t actually need me any more. In my somewhat leadership role, I don’t really have much to do with the day-to-day. There are people and structures in place that make sure it just happens – food preparation, lookout duty, construction and defences, washing, water recycling, looking after the ducks, hydroponics.... all of it.

  The newbs have just been absorbed into the system, and I like that.

  It means I can spend my time doing what I feel I do best. That’s staying ahead of the game, thinking big picture, seeing the changes in environment and what’s happening outside our walls. Then using all that info for assessing threats and improving our weaknesses and systems so we’re best prepared for whatever this world chooses to throw at us next.

  No one else in this city will catch us now – they just can’t. But, it’s not catching us that is the concern, it’s taking us out.

  Anyway, back to the newbs. Every now and then I’ll allow myself to look at Alyce. She’s always next to Duncan, but I can always guarantee Duncan won’t be watching me. I know she tries hard not to look at me, but every now and then I get a little smile. They’re a strange couple to study, those two. Maybe it’s jealousy on my part, I don’t know, but I totally smell something off in it all. And it’s not Alyce.

  ***

  January 24, 2015

  I woke again to the distant sound of gunfire this morning. It was pretty consistent for t
he better part of half an hour. It all ended in a crazy burst of sound that lasted for a good 7-8 minutes. After that, a few odd rounds, then nothing – just eerie nothing. Man, whatever is happening out there is significant and city-shaping; I’d so love some intel. I mean, we can’t even establish the direction of it all – it’s just a general explosion of noise that echoes around the Adelaide plains. Without that direction, we know absolutely nothing.

  But it’s not happening here, so let them waste their bullets on each other. I think I’ve said that before, but it’s become a bit of a saying around this place. I mean, it’s hard to know how to converse with others when you can hear death happening in the distance. I guess that saying has evolved so that we can acknowledge the event but at the same time, justify our relief. I mean, when you hear stuff like that, you just know people are dying in really horrific ways, but you are secretly pleased it’s not you. So, let them waste their bullets elsewhere.

  As much as I’d like to know in detail who’s fighting who for what and where, for the strategic advantages that could bring us in future – it’s not worth

  mine, or anybody else’s lives, setting foot outside the wall to the east. Status: warzone, other status: not our problem.

  It does keep you focused, though, on what’s really important. I mean, fresh fish are important, but defences and security will remain the No.1 focus around here and will do for a long time to come yet.

  Also, I don’t know what’s worse – hearing a battle elsewhere, or hearing nothing and thinking they’re coming for us.

  *

  It was a great backdrop to start today’s meeting. We usually get the main heads together at the start of each day to go through what we’re working on etc. It’s just a way to make sure everyone knows what’s going on with food, defences, planning, construction, oval upgrades etc – we can also mention anything from the previous night’s dinner to make sure all the good ideas are getting discussed – it really helps word pass through the camp and keep everyone involved.

  Today was always going to be a bigger meeting than usual, though. With the fishing success it means rethinking where all our resources are going and how to best use what little we have for the best outcome.

  There’s no question moments such as this are significant. I mean, everything comes up for discussion – even if it’s worth relocating to the waterfront to be close to the No.1 future food source. That idea isn’t practical really, because there’s no resources to house us there and nothing nearby that we could construct accommodation from that would survive next winter. But that’s not the point; I guess it shows how into this we really are. I mean, the fact we can talk about total location change means we’re being smart around all our thinking... at least it feels like that to me.

  The idea of relocating would also have the added benefit of removing us entirely from the grid, as far as the other Adelaide survivors were concerned. Essentially, we would be disappearing from the radar altogether and, after this morning’s shooting sonata, that is quite appealing. But not reason enough ... yet.

  The best idea we could come up with was to draw up a plan to construct something on the beachfront, to make conditions better for those who get sent down there in future. So, someone would design a small hut, or some such thing, and each journey down there, we would take as many extra supplies as we could to begin the construction. Bit by bit it would be made. After that, it would be added to. Kind of like our very own international space station.

  It’s just one small part of the thinking, I guess. Everything we do has to have a purpose – everything. And if we can layer multiple purposes together, we save time and add reason to everything we do.

  Having said all that, it was decided the fishing would have to take the back seat for a little while. I mean, we had enough food that meant we were in no rush on that front. The gunshots, that’s what’s controlling our decision-making right now. We still have to complete the outer wall down West Tce and through parts of North Adelaide – that is our main mission. Not too far behind are the defences we’re building in behind it. Those are far more complete, which is reassuring, because if these walls are breeched (or avoided if we haven’t finished them yet), we have a series of layered fallback positions on each side – north, east and west. That is going to take a whole lot of people to get through – or something else we haven’t seen yet.

  Oh, another thing I haven’t mentioned here yet is the roads. Essentially, the main source of ash we’re using to construct our walls and defences is from the ash directly above the city roads. What that has done is open up the streets again (even if they are worse for wear after all the time under ash and surviving tsunamis). Adelaide was essentially built as a one mile square grid of streets, and bringing the grid back allows us to move around more freely on foot and gives us more options with the front end loader.

  Streets also give us another game-changer. We have more freedom in our movements behind the wall than those on the outside. We become quicker to respond to a threat than the threat is of surprising us. It’s a huge tactical advantage and asset. But it’s coming to that point in our planning that it could be so much better. If we could actually salvage some vehicles and get them up and running again in the same way Jonesy did with the front end loader, well, that becomes a ridiculous advantage for us, when the next threat comes. We become faster and more agile again and we can move people and weapons where and when we need them most. Between that, our current defences and communications with the two-way radios, it would be a very desperate group to try to take us.

  Besides, the more we can transport things around our grid of lands, the quicker additional development can happen. This is also important because that, in essence, is exactly who we are and why we’re surviving. While everyone else is playing survival of the most heavily armed and evil minded, we’re playing survival of the most technically advanced (or is that technically recovered?). While the others had the upper hand in the early days, we have more than broken even with them now in the battle of the philosophies, and everyone here knows the bigger we can make the gap in the shortest amount of time, the better off we’ll all be inside these soon-to-be completed walls.

  So, while the fishing triumph was complete, we can’t afford to head back there in the short term. It just doesn’t fit into what we need to do to play it safest.

  What we do need to prioritise is finding something close to resembling a complete car for Jonesy to work on. Well, more than one really, anything and everything we can get. Then there’s the logistics of getting them back to Jonesy, but really, it’ll be a good problem to have it we can actually find something half decent inside our walls.

  Everything we’ve found in the city though our reclaim the streets work has been an utter write-off. I mean, mangled wrecks. Jonesy salvaged plenty of parts from them, but nothing significant. That was when he started planning on Phoenix 2 and 3 – oh, another thing I haven’t mentioned – yeah, he’s doing that. I’ll get to that later.

  Anyway, he has a space set up as his garage. It’s full of parts and frankenvehicles, but nothing significant to build/restore a car around. So, we need chassis, tyres, axels... everything we can lay our hands on.

  That’s why Ye-jun, Kelly and I are heading to North Adelaide today. There’s a great chunk of it we really haven’t explored yet, especially up past the back of the oval along Jeffcott St. The best part about all of that is North Adelaide sits higher than the CBD. In fact, the area from Wellington Sq back is significantly higher and maybe not too far under where the waters peaked. With the incline of the lands there, we’re also hoping the water carried less anger with it compared with the flat plains of the CBD. It’s all guess work and hope at this stage – we’re just exploring every option within the safety of our walls. And really, transporting a car back at the very least hundreds of metres, through an ash-riddled warzone is not anyone’s idea of a good time.

  Wow, I feel I’ve downloaded a lot of info there (this is why I should
n’t stop writing, I start writing something and remember something else I’ve forgotten to mention) – my mind’s in a few places at once. The bottom line is, in some strange way, this morning’s gunfire was perfectly timed. If we had all the positivity of our food success steering the thinking, we could’ve easily taken our eyes off the survival prize. But we’re all still on task here.

  *

  Ye-jun, Kelly and I have the best job in the community. I mean, every job is important, contributes something vital to our ongoing survival and means something, but ours has that added bonus of variety. The spice of life and all that.

  In the early days after the battle for the oval, it was all about the food runs. But even then, each location was different, presenting its own problems and risks. They were each their own puzzle to solve. Then we had the added bonus of coming back as heroes with food. Around that we do a boundary run every day, just to see what we can see. We also ferry the lookout shifts in and out where we can – saves them a long walk to the wall. While things like the coast trip were truly memorable, it’s going to become more the norm, I feel. Our food gathering days are over, so we have to find new ways to use one of our greatest assets.

  This is again changing our thinking... as a group, I mean. The focus shifts, and depending on what we find with each trip, it shifts again. And so do our missions... each one opening up our world a little more.

  The days I’ve noticed it most (like, how lucky we are), is when Phoenix is off for maintenance or repairs (another reason to appreciate Jonesy). Not going out, not being on a mission... I can’t fully explain it, but I notice the change. Maybe it’s boredom, not sure, but I definitely miss the highs when they stop.

  *

  We headed around the oval grounds north west to Jeffcott St – which only started 200m or so from the back of the western stand. We could really notice the incline as we went, though. Phoneix was struggling to the point where I had to start to tack left and right to ease the burden on the engines. It gave us some hope knowing each metre we climbed potentially lessened the effect of the tsunami damage and we could feel those metres adding up.