VERY STRANGE THINGS:

Chapter 10

"I don't understand," said Joey, shaking her head in disbelief. "How did he get here? I thought he was locked up!"

"He was," Charlie assured her. "We were holding him in one of the cells down at the station ... just until his transfer came through. It had been delayed. But I have a feeling the entire station was abandoned when the virus broke out ... and that's why nobody answered when I tried to call there earlier. Robbo must have managed to escape somehow."

"But why come back here?" Joey's head spun, trying to make sense of it all.

"I don't know," replied Charlie – but it wasn't exactly what she believed. She didn't want to tell Joey what she was really thinking. It was very possible that Robbo had returned to Summer Bay to find Joey again, even though the town had descended into chaos. Maybe he wanted to finish the job he'd started – and get rid of her so she could not give evidence against him in court. It made sense. In a town overrun with death and disease – no-one would suspect foul play if one of it's residents were to die at the hands of another human being. Everyone would blame the infected. It was the perfect alibi.

"What happened to him? How did he die?"

Charlie cleared her throat. "He had immunity to the virus ... but his finger had been bitten off ... so he would have lost a lot of blood."

"Zara!" said Joey in realisation.

Charlie nodded in agreement. "But that's not all. It seems as though she might have attacked him when he was in the mens room ... and ... ehh ...."

Charlie was having trouble thinking of the least nauseating way to describe the most likely cause of his death – and Joey could sense it.

"And what?"

"It looks as though she bit his ... ehh ... It's been severed." She hoped Joey would realise it without the need for her to say it.

Joey eyes searched Charlie's, and she gasped as soon as she realised what she meant. She could hardly believe what Charlie was telling her. A rush of mixed emotions coursed through her, and she silently chastised herself for feeling just a little bit gleeful that he had died in such a horrifying way. She disliked herself for thinking it, but she couldn't help it. The words 'justice' and 'karma' entered her mind.

"My guess is that he was probably using the toilet ... when she attacked him," explained Charlie. "Then he must have managed to knock her unconscious somehow ... which would explain the bumps on her head you saw. Then I guess he ran in here and locked the door. It looks like he bled to death."

It all made sense to Joey now. The finger in the toilet bowl was most likely Robbo's. And now they could identify the other fleshy appendage floating beside it.

Joey took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm her nerves. "So she spat him out again, eh? I guess some people are just too rotten to eat! Even the bugs must taste better."

Charlie knew Joey was masking her true feelings. She'd noticed how Joey always hid behind her sense of humour during the traumatic times in her life.

Charlie looked across at Alf. "You didn't see or hear ANY of this?" she asked incredulously, pointing towards Robbo's body.

"No, love ... although I did go outside round the back of the club for about five minutes with Hugo and Martha when they arrived. And that's when Leah and VJ came running down the road towards us and warned us all to get inside. These two must have came in while we were out there," he said, referring to Robbo and his attacker.

Joey looked at Charlie and smirked. "If I'd known what I know NOW back when she was attacking me ... I'd have shaken her by the hand ... then knocked the bitch out!"

Charlie smiled at the image Joey had put in her head of her thanking the infected woman mid-fight, but she quickly focused once again on the fact that Joey was using humour as a way of trying to find closure. Robbo had violated her in the worst possible way, and Charlie knew it must have been very traumatic. At least Joey wouldn't have to worry about him hurting her any more. Charlie wrapped her arms around her hand held her tight, kissing her forehead softly.

--------x--------

"I hope this works," said Rachel as she double-clicked on the 'Internet Explorer' icon.

Martha smiled at her. "We'll soon find out."

The connection was slow, but the status bar loading across the bottom meant that they had at least some ability to download information. Rachel keyed in the web address for the Centre for Disease Control. She hoped it had been updated. As she waited for the page to load up, she felt a pain. A kick. She winced, clutching her side.

"Are you okay?" asked Martha worriedly.

"Yeah ... the baby's just reminding me that it's hungry ... I guess."

"I think we could all do with something to eat. I'll go talk to Alf when we're done here ... we'll get some food organised."

Rachel tried her best to focus on the screen, but the worries she had kept quietly to herself all day plagued her mind. In the middle of the previous night, when she'd realised the full extent of the spread of the virus, she had tried desperately to call Tony but couldn't get through. He had left town a few days ago on business, and the last time she'd spoken to him, he'd told her that his mobile phone was not working properly. She had tried all day to not think about what might have happened to him, and she hoped he was somewhere safe. As for the baby, she fretted even more. Rohella was a completely new virus, and nobody had any idea how it might affect unborn children. Consequently, her search on the CDC website would be concentrated on finding out if any children had been born with the new and deadly mutation. The danger that her baby might become one of the hungry biters was a truly terrifying thought.

--------x--------

Watson had placed a sheet over Robbo's body and Alf locked the room again. Nine immune survivors and one cat sat around the tables in the main room. Bill had awoken, and had quietly remained in the corner ever since he stirred. Joey had watched him stare blankly down at the floor, deep in thought. She knew he was thinking about his wife Maureen. Charlie sat beside Joey, trying to build up the courage to tell her about her new plan. She knew her girlfriend would be totally against it.

"I need to go to the station, Joey. We need more supplies ... weapons. And I need to find out what happened there."

"Charlie ... please no," begged Joey, taking Charlie's hands in hers. "We don't need weapons. We're doing alright here, aren't we? The infected ones can be knocked out cold just like anyone else."

"It's not the infected I'm worried about. It's other people."

Joey gave her a puzzled look. "Other people? What do you mean?"

"Think about it ... sooner or later the food is going to run out around here ... and there won't be any more supplies coming into town ... not for a while anyway. Other survivors are going to come along eventually ... and we may end up having to fight to keep what we have ... just so we can live!"

Joey hadn't considered that far into the future – believing that they should all just try to get through one single day at a time. In her mind, she would worry about tomorrow when tomorrow arrived – and not before. Charlie thought about things differently. Her job always required her to think about long-term consequences. The impending hardships that she had already envisioned happening were not pleasant, and she didn't feel the time was right to start worrying the others – especially Joey and Ruby, the two people she cared most about in the whole world.

"It'll be getting dark soon, Charlie. Can't you wait and go tomorrow morning instead?" Joey urged, doing her best to keep Charlie near her.

"Joey ... we have no idea what might come knocking on that door tonight. I want us to be prepared. Watson and I can be back in less than an hour ... long before the sun goes down."

Watson had heard her name spoken, and her stomach ached at the thought of having to leave the safety of the Surf Club. She glanced over at the front door and what she noticed immediately made her feel worse. Their 'safe house' did not really have much security at all. There were no metal shutters on the doors or windows that they could pull down and protect them – and the front door had a large glass panel that could easily be broken. It made her all the more nervous.

--------x--------

Rachel had found an article on the CDC website that gave details of a child born a few days ago to a mother with immunity to Rohella. The baby was also immune. The discovery gave her hope that virologists somewhere were still working on a cure or a vaccine. However, as she read the final paragraph of the report, some of that hope faded -

'The most recent mutation of Rohella, Rohella-426, is not known to affect unborn babies. However, initial DNA sequencing results of Rohella-426 suggests there may be a greater than 50% chance that the virus could be passed from mother to child in the womb. It is as yet unknown whether the child may also carry the necessary antibodies required for successful immunity.'

She lowered her head in sadness at the news.

--------x--------

"Watson ... are you ready to move?" asked Charlie as she stood up and moved towards the door.

Watson nodded, but the expression on her face gave a different answer. She'd didn't want to go anywhere, especially to her work!

Joey followed them. "Charlie ... I want to come with you. I can handle myself."

Charlie stopped and turned around to face her. She smiled warmly and put her hands on Joey's waist.

"I know you can, Jo ... but it's probably better if Watson and I go alone. We know the station well ... and we can be back in no time. These people need food ... and they need to feel at ease. You are the best person I know who can give them both of those things. And besides ... you've got broken bones. I don't want to see you getting any more injuries."

Joey knew Charlie was right, and she accepted her role as cook and comforter.

Watson moved to the door with shotgun Annie in her hand. Leah opened the locking system. Charlie and Joey gazed at one another, wishing that they could spend a few minutes alone to say goodbye properly. Charlie moved in closer, kissing Joey softly on the lips. She knew that Ruby and everyone else would be watching their every move, but she did not care what they thought.

Nobody did care. At any moment they could find themselves in the company of snarling, violent, infected human beings. The sight of two women deeply in love in a new relationship was somewhat comforting to them.

"Be careful, Charlie," Joey whispered.

"I will," she replied. "And I'll be expecting my dinner to be ready and waiting for me when I get back. Something spicy ... Indian, maybe?"

Joey giggled. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

They kissed again, then Joey watched anxiously as Charlie left her for the second time in one day.

Ruby smiled at all she had just witnessed. Charlie and Joey seemed very much in love, and it made her very happy.

--------x--------

The fading sunlight helped Charlie and Watson to notice which areas in town that may be on fire. Orange glows illuminated the skyline in all directions. They both hoped that their own homes would not be affected by the blazes. The route out of Summer Bay had looked pretty much the same as it had done earlier in the day when they arrived. There were no new disasters, as far as they could tell.

Charlie stared ahead at the road with a gloomy expression on her face. She always did her deepest thinking when she had her hands on a steering wheel. It helped clear her mind, but it also brought forth memories and thoughts that she could normally push to the back of her mind at any other time of the day - when she wasn't driving. Even though she had just left Joey and Ruby safely back at the Surf Club, she had begun to worry about so many other things. The future seemed so bleak, and she didn't know how she would cope, or take care of the people who remained. She also wanted to get in contact with her dad and make sure he was safe.

"She's really lovely," mused Watson aloud, jolting Charlie out of her train of thought.

Charlie glanced at her, wondering if she was talking about Joey. She wasn't sure if she wanted to get into a personal conversation about her love life with a colleague. "You mean Joey?"

"Yes. I had no idea you two were ... y'know ... dating."

"We weren't," said Charlie abruptly, before softening her tone. "Well ... not until yesterday."

"I see," said Watson. "So then I'm guessing you guys have no idea yet just how perfect you look together."

Charlie finally managed a smile. It was a nice compliment.

--------x--------

Joey had kept herself busy making food for everyone as soon as Charlie had left. Leah had offered to help her, and their conversation so far had taken Joey's mind off her worries about Charlie's safety. It had also taken Leah's mind off her infected boyfriend. She was glad she hadn't seen him in his changed state. This way, she could still deny it in her mind – pretend it wasn't true. It was easier this way.

"We need to make extra for Charlie and Watson," Joey said.

Leah smiled at her and winked. "You two kept THAT quiet, by the way!"

Joey laughed. "Well not really. Our relationship only started officially last night."

"Aww ... how sweet. Y'know ... I had started to wonder about you guys a few weeks ago."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean ... I noticed a ... I dunno ... a kind of tension between you."

"That would be an understatement," lamented Joey. "Charlie had some ... ehh ... issues ... I guess. She didn't want to admit to herself or to me that she had feelings for me."

"And you made her see sense," added Leah.

Joey smiled. "Yeah ... something like that."

--------x--------

Charlie and Watson's journey to the station had been incident-free. As they approached the main building, they noticed someone had altered the sign outside. It had once said 'WELCOME TO YABBIE CREEK POLICE STATION' – but the culprit had spray-painted over the name and added their own words instead. It now said -

WELCOME TO RO(HELL)A

Charlie's attention was drawn to the word in brackets, then she tutted in annoyance at the sight of the defaced signage. To her, the crime was disrespectful of those who worked to uphold the law of the land, and it should never have happened – global crisis or not.

She pulled the car up beside the front door. They both peered inside to see if they could see any movement in through the windows, but the place looked as though it was in darkness. It was an ominous sign, and Charlie was now convinced that the station was empty.

They got out of the car and looked around. Both had been expecting to see signs of struggle outside, as they had done earlier in the day – but there weren't any. It seemed odd but not impossible, Watson thought.

They held their weapons in front of them as they approached the entrance door. It was lying slightly open. Charlie pushed it and moved inside, followed by Watson, who had Annie held firmly in her grasp.

A short corridor led to the reception. Charlie had expected to see blood on the walls, but they were clean. Would further inside tell the same story?

She pushed open the door and looked inside, her eyes darted around looking for signs of life, or signs of struggle – anything that might tell her what had happened. The blood she had expected to see outside was splattered across every wall. Some of it looked as though it had been caused by shotgun blasts or by handguns. Charlie knew that she should have been horrified by what she saw, but she wasn't. She had witnessed so much terror in one day that she felt she was now incapable of being shocked by anything. In fact, when she suspected earlier that the station had succumbed to the virus, she had imagined it to look much worse than it did.

Sitting on the reception desk was the main phone which was connected to the switchboard. Charlie picked it up. The line was dead - which explained why it wasn't ringing incessantly, the way it usually did. That, and the fact that most of the population were either now dead or infected. Whatever their condition, telephone conversations were no longer possible.

"Communications are down," said Charlie.

"So what do we do?" asked Watson nervously. "Do we check all the rooms?"

"We haven't got time. We need to check the cells first ... to see if anyone else is still locked down there. And then we get our supplies and leave."

Watson was relieved to hear a plan that didn't involve a search and rescue operation. She was not in the mood to be the good samaritan.

Charlie found the keys to the lower rooms and they made their way along the corridor that led to the holding cells. She soon realised the keys were not necessary. The large metal reinforced door was lying open. It was never left like that before.

Watson entered and moved over to the desk that held the data sheet which could tell them who was being held in the cells and the reason for their incarceration . She picked up the list and read over the names -

James Darwin – D&D

Charles Cameron – DUI

Christopher Waltz – awaiting transfer

Robert Cruze – awaiting transfer

"Looks like we might still have three in there," informed Watson. "James Darwin .. drunk and disorderly ... Charles Cameron ... arrested last night for drink driving ... and Christopher Waltz .. who is awaiting transfer. Robbo's name is at the bottom of the list. Well ... we can cross THAT one off," she smirked.

Charlie detected a hint of enjoyment in Watson's voice as she'd made her last comment. Had she been talking about anyone else, she would have chastised her insensitivity. But where Robbo was concerned, she was in total agreement. She'd known from the very first moment she saw Robert 'Robbo' Cruze that he was bad news.

They walked down towards the holding cells. There were six at the station in total – three on either side of the room. Each cell consisted of three solid walls and a reinforced metal door with a small window at the top. There was also a hatch for passing items in and out – mainly plates of food.

Charlie moved tentatively towards the first window on the left hand side of the room and peered inside.

"That one should be empty, Charlie ... according to the sheet."

It was. She moved towards the next room. "Who's supposed to be in here?"

"Charles Cameron," Watson replied.

Charlie took a deep breath and drew in the courage to look through the window, preparing herself for what she might see.

Charles Cameron was indeed inside – but no longer alive. His body was bloated and reddened. The virus had caused him to bleed to death. Charlie looked away almost as quickly as she had looked inside. Watson knew by the expression on her face that he had not survived. They moved onto the third cell.

"That one's empty too, Charlie."

Charlie looked inside to make sure. It was indeed empty. They moved over to the left side of the room.

"James Darwin should be in there ... or what's left of him."

Charlie peered in through the side of the window. She gasped at what she saw. Inside, James Darwin was sat on his bunk with his head in his hands, crying. Charlie could see blotches of red and purple behind his ears. The cells had thick walls, so he would not have heard them talking quietly outside. She tapped on the window with the knuckle of her index finger.

James Darwin looked up and stared at her blankly. Charlie frowned. Why hadn't he reacted more? Was he sick? Maybe he was infected by the virus but in a different and new way. He stood up slowly and walked towards her, wiping the tears away from his eyes.

Their eyes made contact and they stared at one another for what seemed like a very long time.

"Is this still in my dream?" he asked wearily.

Charlie glanced at Watson. They both had a look of sympathy for him on their faces.

Charlie looked at him again. "James Darwin?"

He swallowed hard. "Yes? That's me."

"I'm going to open the door. Are you injured?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Are you hungry?" asked Watson. He had no idea of the true reason for her question. She just wanted to make sure he was really okay.

"I'm starving!" he replied. "No one has come near me since last night. I've been yellin' me head off all day. What the hell is going on around here?"

Charlie found the right key and opened the cell door. James Darwin stepped out and stared at them both, awaiting a much-deserved explanation. He was a thin man with dark, wavy hair – about the age of twenty-eight or twenty-nine. Watson could still smell alcohol on his breath from the night before. Her sense of smell was almost as acute as that of a sniffer dog!

"Are you saying you have NO IDEA what's happened since last night?" asked Watson. "You haven't SEEN or HEARD ANYTHING?"

"NO ... all I know is I was brought in here for havin' a fight with me girlfriend at a bar. We'd been drinking and she started flirting with some bloody blond-haired hunk with a six pack. We got into an argument and she punched me ... nearly knocked me out. The barman called the cops. I got thrown in here. She got a pat on the back. Next thing I know I'm waking up this morning from a bad dream ... and I can hear screaming and gunshots all over the place."

His last words conjured up images in Charlie and Watson's minds of their colleagues struggling to stay alive. Charlie was sure some of them hadn't made it.

"So can either of you tell me what's happening?"

Charlie and Watson looked at one another again. Who would be the one to break the news? Watson sighed and turned back to face him and said, "I think you need to sit down for this."

To be continued ...

Author's note: Thanks again everyone for reading and reviewing this story. This rom-com-horror stuff is very physical, which makes it tough to write at times, so I am very pleased you are enjoying it. It makes sitting up alone 'til 3 a.m. (in the dark) to write it all the more worthwhile. FCBC xxxx