by Leo Nix
“If Phil went to the right then that puts him about here when the gas bottle exploded,” said Arthur, pointing to the map. “He couldn't have gone far, no more than fifty metres between the time they dropped their bottles in the bush and the explosion. I think it must have knocked him over and he's injured. He must be holed up somewhere in one of these houses in this sector. That only gives us a dozen or so houses to search. If he isn't inside then he may be hiding outside in a garage, or under a house.” Arthur deliberately didn't mention the other possibilities.
It was almost fully dark when Heidi and Arthur gathered some blankets, water bottles, a first aid kit, torches and headed out with their maps. Charlene was too exhausted to offer her services. She knew she would just be a burden if she went with them. Phil was her favourite, she loved that kind old man but feared the worst.
Tony wanted to go with them but they told him to stay behind and look after his wife. Lucy had been feverish slipping in and out of consciousness all day. Fatima, the only one who knew anything about healing, tended her carefully, cooking a special brew of herbs and meat broths. Tony was worried, too afraid to leave her side in case she got worse, or she did something to herself.
“Good luck, be careful and please find my man,” Fatima said. The kindly old woman hugged them both then closed the door softly behind them. She unconsciously stoked the fire up and simply sat watching the dancing flames. Her mind wandered over all the possibilities of what could have happened to her husband. She grieved quietly so as not to upset the others.
The two were dressed in black and Heidi had blackened their faces so only the whites of their eyes showed. They wore black gloves and their torches were black and taped so only a slit of light showed. Riding their BMX bikes it wasn't too long before they reached their destination. Heidi was quite sure she would find Phil, she had a good feeling about the trip.
“Arthur, stay outside and stand watch for me. I'm going to start with this house. It doesn't seem to be as badly shot up like the others. If you see anything suspicious, give me the low whistle warning.” She went in through the broken front door.
“Phil, Phil?” she called softly. Heidi went from room to room but in the dim torch light saw no sign of occupation. Amazingly there was very little damage to the inside of the house. All the others they searched were severely damaged but not this one, funny, she thought.
She startled when she heard a sound, a soft buzzing sound. `That's not zombies, wake up to yourself girl!' she steadied her nerves, `that's snoring.' Heidi was afraid and about to get Arthur when she stopped in the hallway and listened again. `That sounds like Phil's snoring.' She smiled to herself in relief and followed the sound. It led to the main bedroom.
She found Phil, fast asleep, under the bed with his feet sticking out from under it.
“Phil, Phil, wake up.” He mumbled then opened his eyes. At first he appeared afraid but then he smiled as he recognised her in the slither of torch light.
“Oh Heidi, hello, I was dreaming. I was eating a meat pie with roast potatoes and gravy. Oh my, it was so nice.” He tried to sit up but he had no strength to move.
“Phil,” she smiled broadly with relief, “here, drink this.” Heidi opened her bag and produced a bottle of water. She helped him drink then ran softly to the front door. “Arthur, I've found him!”
It took them three days to prepare Phil for his trip home. Fatima had come straight over as soon as she found out. She brought him some food to eat. It was something she'd made the day before, pigeon pie with potatoes and gravy.
Tony went with them on the night they brought him back. Lucy was now recovering under Fatima's superb care.
It took Tony, Arthur and Heidi all night to carry him home. They used his own home-made trolley when they could. He'd lost so much weight that he was as light as a feather, but his knee was so badly sprained that every movement was agony. They made a stretcher out of old jumpers and two wooden oars. It worked but swapping between trolley and stretcher, walking through back yards and over fences, made it one of the worst nights they'd experienced.
Phil was so grateful to be home that he announced he was going to learn to make wine from the excess fruit they brought back from their trips around the neighbourhood. That put a smile on everyone's face because the terrorists had raided every liquor store in the city and alcohol of any kind was hard to find these days.
That night over dinner he had them all in stitches as he told them of his bedroom lovers.
“But dear, I didn't think you'd remember the sound of love-making at your age,” said Fatima with a wink.
“My dear, I can still see every curve of your gorgeous eighteen year old body in my minds eye, and that's over fifty years ago.” He smiled back at her as they shared a brief but special moment.
Chapter 11 - Nulla - Terrorist Safe House
Nulla hid his bike in the shopping centre, one of those teenage girl clothing stores that seem to plague every mall. No one would bother searching it for anything useful, he thought. He drove the scavenger's Mitsubishi four wheel drive while Glenda drove their smelly Nissan, all the windows were open and they had rugs under their buttocks.
They drove slowly through streets littered with dead bodies, parked cars and pile ups. Many times they drove up onto the footpath or rerouted around blocked streets.
The vehicles slowed as they entered a leafy street with expensive houses, their lawns overgrown with grass and small bushes. They pulled up into the driveway of one and drove around the back to its enormous garage. Simon got out and opened the roller doors. It could easily hold half a dozen cars.
Nulla motioned for everyone to join him as he got out of the SUV. “Here we are, safe house number two.”
“Is this another drug house, Nulla?” asked Luke. Luke felt comfortable around Nulla, they'd managed to develope an appreciation for each other. Both enjoyed silence and didn't need to chit chat too much.
“Yes, mate. Follow behind me, safety off, be prepared for anything. We don't know what crazy arses will be inside.”
He arranged the three to take position around the back door while he called out for the occupants to come out. There was no movement or noise from inside the house.
Nulla opened the door, it wasn't locked. He walked through the house with Luke behind him.
“Safety's on!” he ordered loudly.
Inside they found two dead bodies sitting slumped in lounge chairs. One was still holding a crack pipe in his shriveled hand. Nulla introduced the dead men as Errol and Flynn.
“These two bastards are killers, we're lucky they ain't still alive because we would've had to put them to sleep. They're club enforcers, hit men. They'd kill you for your shoes and have been known to chop people up while they were still alive. I've met them and fortunately I've not had the pleasure of working with them.”
“Nulla, how come you know so much about these drug people?” asked Glenda staring at the dead bodies on the lounge.
“Haven't the boys told you? I'm a patched member of this club. It's an underground club, no names, no identity, just killers. I was introduced by my father, he was one of them. I learned to kill and do bad things I really don't want to talk about. But these two, well, they were the worst of us all. These two, I wouldn't turn my back on.” Nulla directed the boys to drag the stiff, mummified bodies outside and bury them.
Turning back to Glenda he continued. “Now you know my background. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't much fun either, but it's behind me and I'm now what you see before you. I'm staunch and I will never be anything but honest. That's what I learned as a member, be staunch, honest and don't turn your back on anyone.”
The rooms were empty of humanity but held enormous bags of marijuana buds. One room was set up to grow cannabis and they saw it had been skillfully hooked up to a large rain water tank from outside. Glenda announced that she was very pleased to have drinking water piped to her house at last.
By the time the bodies were removed and the mess cl
eaned up it was dark. They prepared to settle down to a cold dinner to discuss their day's work.
Simon had been rummaging around in one of the rooms and brought out another 38 `Saturday night special'. He brought it and a bag of loose bullets to where Nulla was sitting. Together they sorted through the pile. Nulla handed him the spare .38 for him to keep, along with it's soft leather shoulder holster, and promised to give him a lesson in using it gangland style. Simon turned to Luke and grinned like it was Christmas.
Over dinner Glenda said, “I can't believe you wanted to shoot those dogs, Simon.”
“I like dogs too, Glenda, but those were mangy mutts and they were eating dead people. They could have attacked us. Besides, they were probably diseased. I thought it would be good practice for your AK47.” Simon was cleaning his weapon and had it stripped down and arranged on the lounge room floor. In his hand was a spring he hadn't noticed before and had no idea where it went.
Glenda replied. “Just because we can, doesn't mean we should. We aren't murderers, Simon. We're supposed to set up a resistance, we can't do that by killing every living thing we see for target practice.” Pausing, she held the pull through while Nulla threaded it down the barrel of her new AK47. She pulled at the cord while he held the barrel still.
“What if the dogs did attack us? We'd need to defend ourselves wouldn't we?” Simon continued the conversation.
“What if humans no longer dominate the world, what then? Is it OK if the animals kill us for sport?” she said. Nulla noticed a slight smile on her face.
Luke rubbed oil into the firing mechanism of his Steyr and asked of no one in particular using a radio announcer's voice. “Will we survive this apocalypse? Will humans die out and their pets become the dominant species? Will humans one day turn into mutants because of the poisoned water?” He sounded bored.
Simon and Glenda both called him a nutter. Simon said that humanity would survive no matter what. Nulla suggested that the effects of the poison may linger for decades.
At midnight they all turned in for bed. Each had been rostered for guard duty and they knew that not even God would help them if they fell asleep. No one wanted to become Nulla's personal toilet.
The next week was spent setting up the house and bringing stores in from the first safe house. They decided to transport their gear by four wheel drive and left the bikes behind. It was when they saw a patrol one night and another the night after, that they stopped going out of the house. They decided to keep their vehicles in the garage and out of view.
The following morning Nulla told Simon to paint the lights out with black paint, leaving only a tiny strip on the headlights.
“You never know when we might have to leave in a hurry, a blazing set of headlights is a dead give away,” he told his young trooper.
Each day things got worse as the build up of patrols made it almost impossible to get out of the house. Nulla sweated over his street maps and listened to the CB with the boys while trying to come up with a plan for their survival.
After a week stuck indoors he called them all together. “Righto troopers, it appears that there are four terrorist groups. From what I've worked out this mob just extended their territory into our part of the city. Each terrorist army has a separate and distinct area to control. We are in Army Charlie's area and they are a wild bunch with little control from the top. It seems that they do what they want. The CB chatter tells us there are very few civilians in this area. Those not dead are imprisoned as work crews, slaves basically. So there's just us and the terrorists.”
Although they saw no patrols on their particular street the sounds of trucks and vehicles on the main roads nearby, kept them on edge.
“If we stay this close they might not bother to look in their own backyard. We need to be extra careful and set up a CB listening routine and night patrols to spy on them. At this stage I suggest we trial it,” he mused out loud. “We just have to make sure we only move about by night and use our night vision gear,” said a resigned Nulla.
They already knew to forage for food and cook at night and kept a skeleton guard during the day. But they felt trapped and they couldn't escape without leaving most of the gear behind. Their proximity to the enemy severely limited their freedom of movement.
“But that's OK, the SAS did most of their work at night and so will we. Besides, we have night vision,” said Nulla.
Every second night Nulla took one of his three troopers out on patrol. They would spend most of their time in the local neighbourhood using their night vision goggles. They counted the patrols, noted routes, which vehicles they used and the number of occupants. They recorded if the enemy patrols were on foot or truck, four wheel drive, station wagon or sedans. Every small detail was recorded and evaluated.
If they didn't return by dawn or soon after then the plan was for the house to be abandoned. They set up safe houses around the suburb to escape to in an emergency. Nulla showed them how to set up and disarm booby traps. He drilled them in bomb making and sabotage for when he felt they were ready to go to the next level.
If they were caught on patrol, Nulla told them they should first try to outrun the terrorists.
“Avoid firing your weapons because they'll think we're civilians. If they know we have guns they'll do a house by house search and find us. Guns are our last resort.”
He also said that if cornered they should kill as many terrorists as they could.
“I hate to say this troopers, but if you're captured they'll torture you. You will talk. No one holds out against torture unless they are dead. Forget Hollywood, that's just plain bullshit. No one expects you to hold out so don't try to be a hero.” They looked at each other, their faces grim.
“That's why it's important to get out of here if we don't turn up by dawn. It doesn't necessarily mean we are captured or dead though. We could be hiding out and waiting for dark to escape.”
Those first night patrols he used to train them in their light-enhanced night vision and infra-red goggles and scopes. It was harder than they thought and very disorienting. They used a park not far from their house. It was surrounded by trees and there they practiced walking, lying down, crawling, running and sighting their weapons. Returning home before dawn they would often fall asleep without eating. Nulla ran these patrols until using their night vision goggles became second nature to them all.
Mid summer approached and the nights became warmer. Glenda and Nulla had been stalking a foot patrol for several hours and were a long way from their house. It was now standard practice to extend their range well into enemy territory, this was the furthest they had gone.
On this particular night a second patrol came into view. The Army C terrorists they were following checked the new comers. Nulla heard a loud challenge then the terrorist's began yelling abuse at each other. He pulled Glenda into the bushes.
“It looks like our friends don't particularly like their neighbours. This doesn't look like a friendly chat.”
The voices became a screaming match which then escalated into a strained face-off. Two patrols of equal strength, both armed and looking for a fight. Neither backed down. This was a territorial dispute and quickly devolving into a shoot out.
“Glenda, this is going to turn into a fire-fight any moment now. Follow me over the fence and we'll try to get away as fast as possible.” Just as he said that a rifle fired in the hot evening air. Promptly a tremendous roar of automatic rifle fire broke out interspersed with screams of pain and curses.
Nulla and Glenda raced for the side gate and ran through. They got to the back fence and Nulla helped Glenda over. As she landed he heard the sound of breaking glass, Glenda cried out in pain.
“Argh! Nulla, I've hurt my leg. I've cut it on the glass,” she whispered, agony and urgency in her voice.
Nulla climbed onto the fence and looked down with his night vision goggles. It shed an eerie, green glow showing a distorted view of a broken window with Glenda standing in the middle. A piece of glass
had sliced into her leg, she groaned again. Nulla jumped down and helped her from the broken window pane.
The sound of gunfire ceased and was replaced by the screams of wounded and the roar of racing vehicles. The two could clearly hear the sounds of activity from the invisible terrorists. The two infiltrators were terrified that they would be discovered.
Nulla wasn't sure which side won, he didn't care. He held Glenda by the waist and walked her to the back door of the house. She stumbled at every step and he could hear her voice catching in her throat as she tried to breathe deeply to keep from crying.
Nulla opened the back door, it was unlocked and had clearly been ransacked. The kitchen was a mess, the cupboard contents emptied onto the floor but the bedrooms remained reasonably untouched. He carried her into one and helped remove her trousers. In the sliver of torch light he saw the cut to her lower leg, blood oozed out of the wound with each heartbeat.
“Righto, just stay still while I bandage this up.” Nulla's hands shook as he opened her backpack and pulled out a trauma bandage wrapping it tightly over the wound. The pressure soon stopped what appeared to be arterial blood pumping out of her.
Nulla looked at the young lady in the pale light of his screened torch. He whispered to her that she was, officially, their first battle casualty. His humour was wasted, Glenda had passed out.
With no choice but to stay put, Nulla sat on the lounge smoking while he thought the situation through. He decided to leave Glenda while he went back to organise a rescue as soon as it was safe. The boys were probably in a panic having no doubt listened to the terrorists reports of the conflict on their CB radio. In which case they should know they were safe, or so he thought.
Simon and Luke had packed their gear ready for flight. In their rush they'd forgotten to listen to the latest terrorist reports. They heard the initial ones of a contact in the direction Nulla and Glenda had headed and presumed it was them. They missed the last one which described the border dispute. They exited the house and moved some of their most valuable gear to the closest safe house and left behind booby traps just as Nulla showed them. Luke also set secret signs so that if Nulla did make it back, he would know the whole place was booby trapped.
