by Leo Nix
Roo looked at him but didn't speak. Bongo felt the heat rise inside him when Brad's mate, Joey called Roo a `dumb prick'. Bongo felt his outrage rise and knew that the four were looking for a fight.
Joey called out across the camp fire, “I didn't know the special school taught retards to ride.” The four of them laughed, no one else did. Jack sat in his directors chair silently watching, his cigar smoke drifted lazily into the night air.
There was dead silence, the only movement came from ten pairs of eyes switching between Joey, Roo and Bongo. All that could be heard was the crackle of flames from the camp fire.
Thinking quickly so that he could protect his silent mate, Bongo stood up and called out in the growing silence, “Why don't you just go fuck yourself, Joey, you arsehole.”
Bongo smiled knowing he'd taken the heat off Roo. He had a soft spot for his quiet mate and there was no way he would let anyone bully a mate of his. The younger man knew that if he started the fight before the boys were truly drunk, there was a chance someone would step in before it got out of hand and someone was killed.
“You prick!” Joey's face flushed bright red in the firelight. He threw his beer can at Bongo who easily ducked. The bigger man walked stiff legged around the camp-fire and with a big wind-up took a wild swing at the new boy.
Bongo rocked back on his heels and then cracked his right fist into Joey's chin sending him flat on his back. Joey shook his head and groaned as he tried to stand. He wobbled on his hands and knees then vomited. He collapsed to the ground, curled into a ball and began rocking back and forth holding his broken jaw.
The cattlemen stared in shock, they couldn't believe it. Bully-boy Joey, flattened with a single punch by the new guy. Jack Wilson smiled quietly, he was enjoying this. The three bully-boys looked at each other and as one came around the fire and threw themselves at Bongo. He didn't stand a chance against all three.
Roo stood when he saw them charge Bongo and kicked the legs out from under the closest. As he stepped in to protect his young friend, Brad flattened him with a swinging king hit from behind. Roo didn't get up, the punch laid him flat on the ground beside Joey.
Laurie stood up and cried out, “Why don't you lot fucking grow up? Every time we get a new boy you have to beat the shit out of him!” But he didn't step in to help, no one did.
Two of the bully-boys held Bongo by the arms while Brad started punching. “Hold him still, Ferrie. Greg, grab his arms, tighter!” He smashed a fist into Bongo's face opening a cut along his cheek, blood sprayed with each blow.
Soon Bongo was unconscious and had to be held upright as Brad exhausted himself. Brad stepped aside to allow his cousin Greg to use Bongo as a punching bag. Greg had a reputation as a fighter and relished every opportunity he got to use his fists.
“You smart-arsed prick.” he said kicking Bongo's prostate body as it lay on the ground. “You Yalpara boys think you're better than us, eh? Next time you want a fight just call us Wilson boys, we'll show you how we fight in the Flinders.” Greg turned and smiled at the frightened faces of the other cattlemen looking on in horror. He wiped some of Bongo's blood off his knuckles and reached for his beer.
“Anyone else want a flogging? Anyone here think you're better than us? Come on, stand up!” When no one stood he raised his voice and laughed, “You gutless bastards, you're all just pieces of shit that God has placed for us Crusaders to use to glorify our Lord, the God of the Revelations. Amen!”
The cattlemen sitting around the camp fire squirmed uncomfortably. Some turned away, others just stared into the fire. Laurie put his face in his hands and shook his head.
“Don't any of you bastards here think you can challenge us. Try it and you'll end up like these two.” Brad nodded to his mates and they resumed their drinking. Jack smiled smugly having had a ring-side seat to the excitement. None of them bothered tending to Joey who was still rocking and sobbing on the ground.
After a few minutes Cookie saw that it was now safe to step in. He dragged Bongo across to his trailer and washed the blood off his face. Then he carefully applied ointment to his cuts and bruises.
“Leave him, Cookie,” called Jack. “He started it, let him wallow in his own blood. It'll teach him that it doesn't pay to upset the Wilson's.” But Cookie ignored him and continued to administer to Bongo. He then brought in Roo who was now beginning to stir. Cookie looked at Joey sobbing quietly on the sand with his broken jaw, and left him there.
The next morning they were kicked awake by Brad and Joey. “Get up you yokels, time to pay for your meal.” Joey's face was well wrapped in a bandage and his eyes were black. He was in a foul mood unable to eat or talk. The bully-boys were about to kick Bongo but suddenly stopped when they saw the violent look on Roo's face.
“What the hell did we get ourselves into, Roo?” said Bongo trying to stand up. Bongo had a livid cut on his swollen cheek. It was red and inflamed and the combination of swelling, lumps and bruises clearly showed that he'd been in a fight and lost badly.
Neither did anywhere near as well as they were expected that day. They stoically bore the brunt of the Wilson boy's bullying and jokes. By late afternoon Bongo realised that Greg had disappeared with three others of their pack. He was sure they were on their way to Riley's place.
“Strewth, Roo. I hope Riley gets his family away in time. I know what them bastards are going to do if they catch them.” Bongo began to shake in rage and fear. He adored kids and had fallen in love with Riley and Katie's two children, he felt he would die if anything happened to them.
An hour before dusk Roo and Bongo found themselves alone on the very edge of the gap which was the only way out of the compound. Roo looked around then whistled to Bongo, lifted his chin and galloped his horse towards a break in the rocks, Bongo took off after him. They were free and no one noticed. Neither of them knew the Flinders Ranges well enough to make their way to Arkaroola. They knew it was best not to return by the route they took coming in though.
After an hour of hard riding they came across a detailed map on the tourist road leading into the ranges. They studied it for a few minutes. Finally Roo looked at Bongo and nodded. Bongo knew Roo had a photographic memory and trusted his mate's keen sense of direction. Roo pointed out the route they would take on the map and Bongo nodded. Mindful of their injuries they climbed back on their horses and headed towards Arkaroola.
It was a hard ride through the rugged ranges. They had to detour via some of the deserted farms to gather water and food for themselves and their horses, and that added another day to their trip. The two pushed hard only stopping for short rests so the horses could catch their wind and ease their backs. Bongo kept hoping against hope that his new-found friends were safe. At times he found himself crying – he wasn't sure if it was from pain, fear or exhaustion.
They sat and watched Riley's homestead for an hour before Roo nodded that it was safe to ride down. They saw no dust clouds and no sign of vehicles or horses since they had escaped. Of course Jack would know where they were headed. But on horseback, in desert country, he wasn't bothered too much. Jack knew he could pick them up whenever he wanted.
As they entered the yard, Roo stopped his horse and jumped down, wrapped the reins on the timber fence and scanned the ground. He pointed out fresh truck tracks and foot prints.
“Four men's foot prints going into the house and only one coming back. There's multiple drag marks and these patches look like blood. What do you reckon, Roo?” said Bongo beginning to hyperventilate. He then let out a keening moan when he saw more blood on the ground as they approached the front door.
Roo swung the door open and the two entered. Bongo gasped deeply and pointed to the wall where a shotgun blast had plastered blood and what looked like an eyebrow on the whitewashed stone wall. There were bullet holes in the walls and empty cartridge shells on the floor.
“Riley must have ambushed them when they walked inside.” Bongo continued his dialogue, “It looks like he took out one at the fr
ont door… one inside just here with his shotgun and that's his face, or what's left of it, on the wall there.” He pointed to the eyebrow and Roo nodded. “Then they opened fire with their automatics. Oh hell, Roo. Riley, Katie and the kids might be dead outside the back door.” He started to sob when he saw more blood and a shotgun blast-sized hole in the open back door.
Roo put his hand out to stop his friend. He then stepped out carefully looking at the ground and reading the tracks. He crooked a finger at Bongo and grunted. Bongo stopped dead in his tracks and looked squarely at his normally silent mate. That grunt was the first sound he had heard coming from Roo in all their time together. Roo then held up his hand for Bongo to stop and observe.
A master tracker, Roo bent down to read the signs on the ground using the sunlight to highlight each footprint. He pointed to the bent grasses and prints which spoke to the initiated of the story of the fire-fight.
Bongo began talking again to calm his nerves. “So…” he began, “Riley then ambushed the next one as he pushed the back door open. That's the blood there and it looks like he then ran across to his truck in the carport.” Bongo stopped and Roo pointed out the small tracks made by a pair of bare feet.
“That's Katie's tracks,” said Bongo. “OK, she must have got out first with the kids. But where's the children's tracks, I can't see any.” His voice went up an octave as he started to fret again.
Roo pointed to the roll and variations in depth in Katie's tracks. “So that means she was carrying one on each hip?” asked Bongo, Roo nodded.
He then pointed to Riley's footprint covering part of Katie's. “OK, got it, he followed her. I can't see any of the bully-boys footprints though, does that mean they didn't follow?” Again Roo nodded and pointed back to the door and the drag marks.
“Yep, I can see it now. The last Wilson was too afraid to come out. So that means Riley and his family got away? And one of those Wilson boys escaped, taking his three dead mates back to Jack. That means he'll want revenge.”
Roo grunted a second time and stood up, they walked to the carport. Again he bent to study the tracks and pointed to the back cattle grill. Together they walked over to the fence line and the cattle grating separating the enormous paddock from the house block.
“They got away, thank God, they got away!” Bongo smiled and then hugged Roo. Roo smiled and even returned the hug, briefly.
“Roo, we've got to find them and help them. We're not going back to Birdsville until we make sure they're safe.”
Roo smiled, a tiny grunt escaped his lips one more time and he nodded - it was exactly what he was thinking too. They ran back to the shed and recovered their weapons, collected what gear they could pack onto the now exhausted horses, and began to track Riley's truck into the Arkaroola wilderness.
“Roo,” called Bongo walking his tired horse, “did I really hear you talking to me just now?” He was smiling, in fact he realised that he was feeling darn joyful.
Roo looked at him, looked away, then back again and nodded. It was late afternoon and he wanted to put some distance between them and Riley's homestead before dark. He looked back at Bongo and grunted. It was a soft, lighthearted sound, then he smiled broadly. He too had been afraid for his cousins and was overjoyed they had escaped.
Chapter 2 - Nulla - Luke and Simon's Apocalypse
A panicked voice cut into the static on their CB. “They have infiltrated my unit! All personnel, be advised, terrorists have infiltrated 1st Armoured. We are compromised and ineffective. I repeat, we have been infiltrated by terrorists planted in our units. I repeat…” They heard a loud bang followed by an ear splitting scream. The voice was replaced by static.
Simon turned to his mate, “Wow! Luke, did you hear that, terrorists have infiltrated our army units, they must have killed that guy. This is starting to freak me out.” They set their CB back to scanning the radio frequencies hoping to discover more but all they could pick up was static.
The two teenagers had been listening on their hobby scanner all morning. News stations broadcast of hundreds of synchronised terrorist attacks across the globe. The `Crusaders Of The Revelations' had been threatening to bring down the Apocalypse of the Bible for what seemed ages. Their numbers had exploded after they ran a brilliant, world-wide recruitment campaign earlier in the year. Turning on their CB scanner they listened to the police and ambulance calls with escalating anxiety.
Simon was in the habit of listening to his CB scanner when he woke before dawn almost every morning, but this was different, very different. The radio and TV told of power outages, poisoned water supplies and people dying by the millions. Internet news footage showed images of the Crusaders cutting down civilians in broad daylight. They saw people dead and dying, lying in the streets, poisoned by their municipal drinking water.
In the USA, Asia, India and Europe reports came in describing how the crusaders had also released a biological weapon, similar to the SARS virus. It had a mortality rate close to 90%. It was predicted that it would travel around the globe infecting billions. News reporters went off the air as they too succumbed to the poisoned water and infection.
By midday there were no more news broadcasts, no more TV or internet and no more mobile phone service. Then there was no more electricity either. The poisoned water caused people to die in their homes and on their way to work without even knowing what had struck them.
In Simon and Luke's neighbourhood people began to congregate outside in the street. They gathered in confused and distraught groups as they sought to understand what had happened. Many people simply dropped and died in front of their own homes. Whole families began to collapse to the ground in agony. Simon heard screaming coming from his neighbours house. He was frightened and gathered up his scanner and the backpack he and Luke prepared earlier. The boys decided to escape the city.
It was almost midday and the two teenagers could now clearly hear the approaching sound of gunfire. They guessed their army was fighting in the suburbs as they were forced back towards the CBD.
“Come on, Luke, those terrorists will be here soon, we'd better move. Our parents are probably already dead or captured by now and it's just too dangerous to stay here.” The distant gunfire was moving closer. Simon kicked his dirt bike into gear and pushed forward with his left boot. Luke did the same and their bikes leaped into the now quiet and deserted street.
There was only enough space in their packs for a few days food and water. With much regret, Simon left his remote control helicopter behind. It cost him every cent he'd earned over the entire year. Luke told him they could go back for it when things settled down. Many things were left behind the day of the apocalypse.
As they rounded a bend in their suburban street they almost ran into an army truck filled with armed soldiers. Desperate, hard faced men leveled their rifles at them. The boys pulled up sharply and put their hands in the air. The bikes coughed and stalled, silent.
“What the hell are you two doing out here? Get back home and lock your doors!” came a booming voice and they watched as an officer jumped from the front cabin of the truck. He towered above them with his hands on his hips, looking tough but his red, sweaty face betrayed his fear.
His voice softened somewhat as he said, “Boys, there are terrorists right behind us. Get out of here right now or you'll be caught in the middle when we set up our ambush.”
“We're heading up into the Adelaide Hills, sir,” said Simon. “We heard on the army UHF that the terrorists had infiltrated our military units, some of our own soldiers are terrorists, sir. They might be in every unit. The radio said the military were compromised.”
Sweat flicked from his face as the officer's head jerked back with the news. Simon thought to himself, `You didn't know did you.'
Right at that moment the deafening staccato drumming of automatic rifle fire sounded beside them. Simon swung his head around and witnessed a soldier firing short bursts of his Steyr assault rifle, killing his comrades in the back of the truck. Bo
dies jerked and slammed backwards from the force of the fire. The uniformed traitor then swung his rifle towards the officer and the teenagers.
Simon and Luke reacted swiftly. Kicking their bikes into life they leaped forward speeding rapidly through the gears. Luke looked back to witness the officer savagely flung backwards as he was hit by the terrorists burst of automatic fire.
The teenagers rode like maniacs through the streets and then into the hills on secret dirt tracks they knew so well. They didn't stop till they could look down on the city itself an hour later.
At one point they had ridden past a terrorist road block as rifle fire cracked around them. Terrified, they put on speed to escape, ducking their bikes behind parked and stalled cars to avoid being hit.
As they neared the top of a bush covered hill they slowed, then stopped. In front of them was a group of civilians sitting beside a Greyhound coach. They appeared lost and disheveled. One explained they were on a holiday tour when the terrorists struck, the driver headed into the hills for safety. A woman called the boys over and asked them what was happening in the city.
“Hi boys, we've been watching you ride up. Can you please tell us what's going on down there. Did our army kill the terrorists and is it safe to get back to our tour?” she asked, her face moving closer to Simon's, almost pleading for good news.
“Lady, things are not safe down there, please don't go into the city. The Revelationists are there, everywhere. We saw them kill an entire truck load of army guys and their captain - right in front of our eyes. We only made it this far on luck,” Simon told her.
Some of the other civilians asked questions and it was obvious to the boys that many of them struggled to believe that their army no longer controlled the city. One even went so far as to abuse the boys for telling lies.
“You think we're lying? Go down and see for yourself then!” replied Luke, he wouldn't be called a liar by anyone. The man shut up and put his head in his hands, rocking silently.
