I picked my way carefully past the debris that was strewn across the road, trying to put my finger on what was bothering me. There had to be a reason. My instincts were a little over-aggressive at times, but they were well-honed. I’d spent years living in the bush, always alone. I knew the sights, sounds, and smells of New Zealand like a wild animal.
And then it struck me. It was quiet. Too quiet. Although the bush thinned out around the town, there were still plenty of trees – but no birds were singing. I held up my hand to halt the others, scanning the road and buildings ahead of us for anything out of the ordinary. I spotted a few dark, ominous shadows dotting the asphalt, like puddles of dried blood. In the distance, I could see spray paint on the side of a building. It was too far away to tell if it was a gang sign, but that was warning enough for me.
“There’s something very wrong here,” I whispered. “We should leave, now.”
Then the dog began to growl, low and deep in his throat.
I had the safety off my shotgun in a second, and dropped into a defensive crouch. Michael flanked me as I took a couple of cautious steps backwards, his expression one of focused intensity that mirrored my own. However, his instincts were honed for urban combat, while I possessed a completely different set of skills.
The footfall sounded like an elephant’s tread against the quiet world around us. I spun around, but it was too late; the stranger had one massive hand around little Priya’s throat, and in the other he held a very large, very sharp machete. Priya cried out in surprise as she was swept up against the huge man’s body like a human shield. She struggled, but he was three times her size – at least four inches over six feet tall, all rippling muscle, and outfitted in full army battledress.
“Let her go,” Michael said, trying to negotiate even though we both had our weapons trained on the massive soldier. “We’re just passing through, we mean no harm.”
“No harm? Heh…” The man’s voice was a deep-throated rumble, but it was totally different to the familiar purr of my lover’s voice. His voice was pure threat, and it sent the alarm bells in my head ringing like crazy. “You should have listened to your woman, chink, and left while you still had the chance.”
I saw Michael bristle at the use of the racial slur, but I cut him off before he could respond.
“There are two of us, and one of you,” I pointed out coldly, calmly; I felt the surge of adrenaline pumping through my veins. Usually it brought fear, but not this time. I had learned something over the last few months, and improved myself. This time, the adrenaline brought with it a detached kind of clarity. “We’re well-armed and well-trained. If you hurt her, we’ll kill you before you can draw your sidearm.”
“Well, aren’t you a feisty one?” The stranger showed teeth, but it wasn’t a smile. “I have no problem with you. You can leave if you prefer. These two, though... a fucking chink and a curry-muncher? Their kind brought this plague on us. I’ll kill them all!”
My eyes did not leave the stranger, but at the edge of my vision, I could see Priya’s terrified eyes staring at me, enormous and confused. She didn’t understand what was going on, and she was too afraid to fight anymore. I sensed more than saw Michael’s readiness, but we were trapped, with that innocent little girl caught between us.
“You’re an idiot if you believe that,” I told the man coolly. Reasoning with a madman was impossible, and yet I had no choice. “The plague came from monkeys, not people. Any five-year-old knows that.”
“Fucking lies, spread by that nigger president in America!” the man roared, his face turning red with fury. For half a second he was distracted, and I saw his grip on Priya loosen.
That half a second was all I had, so I used it. I sprang forward and lashed out, using the butt of my shotgun as a club. The blow struck home with the resounding crunch of bone fracturing; his roar of rage turned to one of pain.
He lashed out blindly with the machete, but I twisted away and caught Priyanka by a fold of her clothing to yank her from the madman’s grasp. The hot flash of pain exploded across my ribs, but I barely felt it – my only concern was for Priya. I would worry about my own health once she was safe.
I shoved her away, and felt her fall somewhere behind me, but I didn’t have time to find out where; I’d pissed the racist soldier off right royally, and it was right at that moment that I realised he wasn’t alone. Although they were hidden out of sight, the intensity of life-or-death fighting put my senses on edge. I could faintly hear the sound of human breathing in the clumps of trees on either side of the road. We only had moments before they would enter the fray, and then we’d be outnumbered.
The behemoth sprang at me, but I was waiting for him. I leapt back out of the range of his machete, and unleashed a brutal kick to the groin while he was off balance. Although he was huge and presumably strong, his size was a disadvantage against someone as comparatively small and nimble as me – particularly since I fought dirty.
The man crumpled to his knees, all the breath gone from him. As he tumbled forward, I jerked my own knee up and caught him in the forehead. He went down hard, like Goliath to my David. I didn’t take any time to celebrate my victory, though; we were in intense, immediate danger, and I knew instinctively that that Michael hadn’t realised it yet.
“Follow me,” I ordered breathlessly as I raced past him. I grabbed Priyanka’s hand, and sprinted into the nearest patch of bush without a second of hesitation. A man was waiting there with a weapon drawn, but I took him by surprise. I shoulder-charged him before he could fire, bowling him to the ground, then I leapt over him and kept on running.
I heard heavy footfalls behind me, and a quick glance back confirmed that Michael and the dog were right on my tail. The canine may not have understood the exact nature of the threat, but it had decided to follow us anyway. Michael, on the other hand, just knew me well enough to trust my instincts without question at a time like this. Reassured that he was still safe, I turned my attention back to guiding our flight, deeper into the bush.
My ears were tuned for danger, and I heard all the sounds that happened around me: the heavy breathing of my companions, the crash of my own feet as I cleared a path through the heavy brush, even the alarm sounds of the birds in the trees all around us. Over that, I could hear the furious shouting of our pursuers as they chased us. The behemoth’s deep voice rang out above the others like a herald of doom, ordering them to find us and kill us without mercy. Then, suddenly, I heard another sound. It was much closer at hand, and ominously familiar.
In the bushes to our right, I could hear low, deep squeals, punctuated by the thud of flesh striking flesh. Those squeals were the kind of sound that would forever haunt my nightmares, but this time they brought a flash of inspiration. I skidded to a halt and thrust Priya’s tiny hand out to Michael, who took it without thinking. He started to say something but I interrupted him. There was no time for questions, no time for thinking – it was time to act.
“I have an idea,” I told him, then I pointed him in the direction we had been going. “Stick to the forest. Keep heading east until you reach the river, then follow it south to the bridge. I’ll meet you there.”
“But—”
“Just go, now!”
He tried to protest but I waved him away. Although I could see the tension in his handsome face, he nodded grimly. A quick kiss and then he was off, vanishing into the undergrowth. I was left alone, between a pair of vicious enemy factions.
The hellish squealing drew me back to the ferns. I peeked through, and saw what I expected to see: two infected pigs were fighting one another, locked in a bloody battle for supremacy. They didn’t notice me at first, but that was going to change. I cocked my shotgun, then aimed it from the hip and peppered both their hideous bodies with hot shrapnel.
The shotgun’s retort rang in my ears, and sent birds scattering from the trees overhead. I’d given away my position, but that was part of the plan. The two horrid monsters instantly lost interest in one a
nother and turned on me, but the underbrush was too thick for them to charge properly. When I turned and ran, they barrelled after me at top speed, but I was light on my feet and much more nimble than they were amongst the trees.
The creatures were single-minded in their intensity, but they couldn’t quite catch me. Although my heart hammered in my chest from the knowledge that a single misstep would spell my doom, I somehow kept myself calm. The adrenaline fuelled me, and again I felt that strange kind of clarity of purpose, the drive to succeed at all costs. It was powerful, and it was addictive. Feeling cool and collected in spite of the danger, I drew ahead of the pigs a little bit, just enough to give me an advantage, but not quite enough to lose them. For my plan to work, the pigs had to stay close. Very, very close.
Suddenly, I saw a human figure amongst the trees. Although he was shadowed by the forest, his size gave him away as the madman who wanted us dead for no better reason than our ethnicities. I sprinted straight at him, my feet crushing the ferns that flourished in the lightless land beneath the canopy.
The sound of my footfalls alerted him before I reached to him. I tried to dodge past him, but he was quicker than I estimated despite his size. He made a grab for me and managed to get hold of a handful of my clothing, preventing my escape. I felt a momentary flash of panic, but the act of grabbing me spun him around, so he couldn’t see his death incoming.
“Oh, so you changed your mind, did you?” he growled and shook me roughly, unconcerned by the weapon in my hands. “You know, I was going to let you stay with me and my boys once I killed your friends, show you what a real man looks like. Pretty, white girl like you? Could have had some fun, you and me – but now I think I’ll just kill you as well.”
“I hate to tell you, but I’ve already got a real man,” I answered him breathlessly, feeling a surge of victory despite the danger I was in. “So this seems way more appropriate. A swine like you deserves nothing better.”
My dark smile must have alerted him that something was amiss. He glanced back over his shoulder just as the huge boar burst through the underbrush, and bowled him over from behind. His grip on me faltered, and I was ready for it. I twisted away just in time, and ducked behind a tree out of the sight of the incoming beasts.
For all his size, the man was only human, while the infected boar was the largest I’d ever seen. It bore him effortlessly to the ground, and then it was on him, attacking viciously. Hidden from sight, I heard rather than saw when the sow joined in the attack, but I could barely hear their squeals over the man’s screams.
Suddenly, I felt nauseated about what I’d done. I reminded myself that it was for the sake of my lover and our innocent young charge. That man would have killed them both for no better reason than the colour of their skin. If those bloodstains were anything to go by, we had not been the first victims of his gang. He deserved a horrible fate.
While the pigs were both completely focused on their attack, I ducked out of my hiding spot and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. Even though I’d been the instrument of that man’s well-deserved destruction, I could not bear to watch the creatures kill and eat another human being.
His screams rang through the forest behind me as I fled to the east, putting as much distance between myself and the grisly scene as I could.
Chapter Seventeen
I ran like a madman, ducking and dodging through the undergrowth despite the constant risk of personal injury. A few minutes later, I found the road again, far to the east of the little town. I froze and stared all around, listening to the sounds of the wilderness until I was certain that I was alone. Sticking to the road would be dangerous, but I could travel faster if I took that route. It only took a second to decide, and then I was off again.
I ran as hard as I could for as long as I could along that cracked grey ribbon, until my breath seared in my lungs and my heart started making a serious effort to bust its way out of my ribcage. The late summer sun beat down on me mercilessly, and sweat carved rivulets through the sunscreen protecting my skin.
Eventually, I had to slow down to a walk. By that stage I judged that I had probably put three or four kilometres between me and my enemies. I didn’t stop, though. I couldn’t stop until I knew Michael and Priya were safe. I was alone, but I was well-armed and in my element. My concern was for them, not me.
On my own, I moved much more quickly than I had when I was with the others. Weeks of good food had begun to restore my body to a decent state of health; I felt better than I had in as long as I could remember. My foot had adjusted to the rigors of travel once the muscles had time to warm up and stretch, too. Although it ached, it was an ache that I understood and could safely ignore. I knew it wasn’t an injury anymore, just a mild discomfort.
When my lungs had recovered, I eased myself back up to a trot. After a few hundred metres, I slowed to a walk to recover, pacing myself for the long haul.
Water was a concern. Michael had most of our supply in his backpack, and the small bottle I kept in my pocket to sip as we walked was almost empty. I took a swig from the bottle anyway, since there was no point conserving it. If worse came to worst, I could always boil river water. Right now, I was parched and sweating. My body needed water to keep going.
The trees hung low over both sides of the road, granting me a temporary respite from the heat. I paused for a moment to listen, but I heard nothing that indicated a threat. The birds still sang contentedly in the trees, and the wind rustled the branches. Everything seemed safe and calm, with nothing to indicate any danger nearby.
I continued on, guiding myself up to a loping trot for another few hundred metres. As I ran, I found myself thinking that something good had come out of the attack: running for our lives had put us back on track to reach the power station before nightfall.
The thought made me smile. Perhaps Michael’s positive attitude was starting to rub off on me after all. I decided that it was best not to think about the other things that had happened; the sun was shining too brightly for me to dwell on morbid thoughts. Instead, I focused on keeping myself alert for danger. I had no idea how many members of the neo-Nazi gang were in the area, so I chose my path carefully in case they decided to track me. Each footfall connected only with solid tarmac; I crushed no blades of grass with my weight, and avoided any patches of gravel that might leave a footprint behind.
It was strange to think that I had learned so much about tracking over the years. I’d begun life as a city girl, raised in pleasant suburbia without a care in the world. But when the plague had come, I found myself on my own and often under attack. I had learned the way of our new wilds, and fast. That was how I’d survived all these years.
I was no genius but I wasn’t stupid. Logic dictated that a footprint didn’t leave itself, that a healthy leaf or flower bud didn’t break without reason. I’d learned to look for those signs, and to listen to the world around me for the telltale markers of something that didn’t belong. After spending so much time on high alert, that sense had become second nature to me. For a while, in Hamilton and later Ohaupo, my sense of the world had begun to fade away – but the moment I returned to the familiar places I used to call home, that sense came back to me in force.
Everything I knew I’d learned the hard way, because I had been lucky enough to survive my mistakes. I learned which wild berries I could eat by watching the birds. In the early days, roaming the bush starving and alone, I ate a berry from a tree. It had made me so violently ill that I had been unable to move for hours. While I’d lain in the leaf-litter, recovering, I had noticed that the birds flitting around in the canopy above me avoided the fruit from that particular tree. Instead, they favoured the product of another tree. When my stomach recovered, I tried a few of those berries instead, and discovered that they were safe for me to eat.
I could survive in the bush if I had to, and I wasn’t afraid to retreat to the wild places if the urban regions became too dangerous for me. However, I generally still preferred the urban li
fe. It was easier to find food and water, and it was more likely for the amenities to still be functioning in town than it was in rural areas.
But, the bush was safer. There, I could hide and live wild. I had learned to listen to Mother Nature and to trust her, even when she was in one of her more capricious moods. The sights, sounds, and smells were familiar to me, and I generally knew how to respond to them. I could only imagine that was how Priya had survived all these years, too. Trial and error, and learning to trust nature to provide a solution. When it came down to it, we were all Mother Nature’s children. Some of us had just forgotten that.
My mind drifted at random as I travelled east, running a few hundred metres then walking a few hundred. As a teenager, I’d read a book that had recommended that method as the most efficient way for a human on foot to travel without exhausting themselves. That knowledge had served me well over the years. My nostrils flared wide with each breath, drawing air deep into my lungs to power the efficient hydraulics of my body.
It was during one such breath in that I caught a scent on the breeze that was out of place. The wind blew from the east, and it carried with it the acrid smell of gunpowder, and coppery scent of blood. Ahead of me, the road bent slightly and sank down behind a small hill. I slowed to a walk and brought my shotgun up in case I needed it.
As I crept towards the bend, I eased myself into a low crouch-walk, my senses extended and alert. The birds still sang on, aside from the few directly above me. My small size, soft footfalls, and the dark green camouflage print of my clothing meant that I bothered them much less than a grown man thundering through the brush – or worse, a pig.
The Survivors (Book 2): Autumn Page 19
