"Allen, It's not safe in Australia anymore!" The Kiwi yelled into the phone, which annoyed the Australian more than anything as he waited for Sydney public transport. It was a European issue, the Aussie thought, not a global one. It would have to cross two oceans to get into Oz. They said that it was contained to just Germany and Denmark now. That it was a small outbreak of madness.
"How is it 'not safe in Aus anymore', Benji? Of course it's safe here. It's contained." The Australian bitched loudly. The past few weeks, people were talking about 'European Zombies' while the news talked of 'the madness illness'.
Symptoms included dicoloured skin and eyes, excessive drooling, and loss of sanity. You were to stay away from those who exhibited the symptoms, and he knew that Europe was on lockdown. But Alfred had told him Australia soil was deemed safe, and he should open his borders for those fleeing, which he had agreed to.
"Close your borders, Allen. It's in Africa and China. And it's evolved." The Kiwi on the other line had said, which made the Australian sit up some from the bench.
"It's evolved? How so?"
"Before you could kill someone with the madness by shooting them anywhere lethal, right? Now you can't. The dead reanimate. It's something more, Allen. Something more..."
Allen looked at the busy city, watching the people carefully. It had changed? Evolved? But how? Why? And it had jumped continents somehow? Could it lay dormant in a person?
His questions were interrupted as the bus pulled up, late as per usual. "Look, Kiwi. I'll head to Canberra and talk to Lee about this. You should get to Wellington and stick by Rochdale. The Prime Ministers are always the first evacuated when there is a disaster of this scale."
"I'm already in Welly, idiot. Rochdale closed the ports when this first broke out. Our alert scale is at full red. Yet we are worried about the 'safe soil', yours included." Ben had been worried since the first reports surfaced, Allen knew, stocked on guns and ammunition, food, petrol. He was just being paranoid. "This is not normal, Allen. This is not some horror when at the end there is people walking outside laughing, happily. This is reality. You need to prepare for the worst-"
"Whinge Whinge Whinge. You are like the wife I never married, Ben. Trust me, Australia is not suitable for this illness. We test the blood of everyone whom comes in for illness and everyone is contained 24 hours, as regulated by the mandate. Everything will be fine." Allen sat himself in an empty seat, "Besides, it's oral."
"What!" The Kiwi sputtered, and Allen smirked out the window as he headed home from Sydney.
"It's passed by contact. Blood borne, not air."
"Idiot..." The Kiwi muttered, and the slap sound made the Australian chuckle.
"Okay Okay, I promise, first thing tomorrow I'll fly to New Zealand and stay with you, if it will make you feel better."
"It would..." The Kiwi admitted to the Australian, which brought a smile to the man's face.
"I'll call to have the jet prepared tonight, and leave first thing tomorrow. Promise." Allen smiled softly, feeling the worry from the Kiwi across the ditch. It was cute, and very sweet.
"Okay... I'll make a Pav for you..." The man on the other line said happily.
"Make it chocolate."
"Roger."
Allen hung up his phone, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then looked out the window as car drove past, his brows knitting. He pulled his phone back out, and decided to go ahead and make that call.
Walking into his house after the long and painful bus ride, the Australian stripped off his shirt and grinned at his Koala, whom sat perched on the tree house he had built for her, "I'll take you out tomorrow, Jess. Promise. We'll go on a grand adventure to New Zealand, aye?"
Closing and locking his door, the Aussie grinned at his pet, then walked into the kitchen to make himself dinner. Nothing fancy, just a sandwich and some beer. The usual bachelor meal to suffice his needs for substance. He turned on the TV while he ate the bread, Vegemite and cheese, flipping through the channels and really ignoring the news. They were still talking about the madness, and Allen didn't give a single fuck about that any longer. It was a European issue, after all.
Once he was done eating, the Australian walked into his office/work out room, turned on the radio and ran on his treadmill for about an hour, then spent the next hour lifting weights. Once he was sufficiently sore from both cardio and strength training, the man walked to take a fast shower, then, after turning off all his lights, he fell into his bed.
Sleep came quickly, as it did every night because of his routine...
It wasn't sunlight that woke him, usually it was. It was a scream. Not like a scream of a wife yelling at her husband... it was a scream of terror. The kind of scream one hears in a horror movie before someone was murdered. Allen looked up from his pillow, furrowing his brows and reaching out to pull his phone from it's dock to find out the time. But the sudden loud thump, and the sound of gunshots made the Australian shoot from his bed. He reached in his drawer in his bedside table for his gun, his heart pounding in his head as he inched along his wall toward the window.
Hand lifted, his gun ready, loaded. He pulled down the side of the blinds and looked out upon his quiet suburban neighbourhood. And his eyes widened at the sight before him.
The cute 7 year old twin girls from across the street were in his lawn, eating their mum's innards, fighting over the woman's heart. Both girls had blood dripping from their face and hands, smeared all over their Tangled and Tinkerbell jammers. Across the street their father was eating their nice old great dane, his teeth ripping the flesh from the dog like it was skin from a chicken. Allen knew the family well, had even helped them with their mortgage once. In the street was an overturned car, on fire. He recognised it was old lady Dansons' car. There was more gunfire from up the street, and a distant scream. Allen let the blinds back up and looked forward, panting loudly in alarm as he pressed to the cool wall. No. No no no.
"Oh, fuck me dead..." He said softly, grabbing clothes from the floor and pulling them on at once. Underwear, jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt were his grab. He grabbed for his old boots, and a set of socks and pulled them onto his feet, tying his laces tight in fear. Snagging his phone from the base, the Australian took note that there was another loud thud. Glancing at the wall, he shook in fear. He didn't want to find out what that was. He didn't want to go outside.
He rushed into his office, an inner room of his home, and closed the door behind him, quickly moving to barricade the door with his treadmill, but stopped. Jessie was still in the living room. He cursed and pulled out his phone. Just a fast call. He had to tell the Kiwi what was going on.
Benjamin looked at his ringing phone with utter disdain as he was pulled from a pleasant dream. It was Allen's ring tone. Pulling the phone up from under his pillow, he swiped his finger across the screen and moved the phone to his ear, "You do know it's only 7 am here, I was aslee-"
"Ben, it's here."
"What is there?" The Kiwi sat up and rubbed his face in annoyance.
"The Jones twins are eating their mummy on my lawn, there is a loud thumbing, gun shots... It's hell here, Kiwi. The illness. It's here. You were right. It's here."
The panic in the Australian's voice brought the Kiwi to a pause, and the news made his stomach drop hard. "Allen..." He stood, and walked to check outside his window. It was bright outside, and there was no sign of anything awry. His dog lay near the sheep, watching them like she did every morning. "Allen, just calm down. Breathe. Where is the Ute?"
"Parked outside. The Caddie is in the garage. The Ute's in the way of it..." Ben cursed and looked to the side. He'd have to go outside.
"Do you have your gun?"
"No shit."
"Do you have spare clips and bullets?"
Allen hissed, "In my pack in the Ute is a few boxes. The clips are in my closet."
"Listen. Move quietly. Don't draw attention to your house. Grab food. Get Jess. Hang up and turn your phone off until you get in the car."
"Ben..."
Ben looked worried, very very worried, "Yes, Allen?"
"I'm scared... if I don't make it... I love you."
"Don't talk like that, idiot. Just stay calm. You'll survive."
"Just in case? Please?"
Ben sighed, shaking in fear for the man on the other line, "I love you too, please... Pack light, be safe. Hurry here."
"I will."
Allen hung up without another word, and the Kiwi sat in his bed, looking at his phone as the picture vanished from his sight, back to his homepage, his music returning to playing softly.
Looking around his room slowly, Benjamin knew that if Australian soil was infected, his sanctuary was in danger. Ben tipped his head downward, pressing it to his screen. And cried.
"You better make it, idiot..." He murmured through his fearful sobs.
End Transmission.
Author Notes:
I'll work on the second chapter now. Then I'll work on my other stories.
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