Chapter 3: Bandit
***Content Warning***
This chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence, as well as references to self-harm and suicide. This is a heavy chapter, people. This shit is real. If this isn't for you, then skip.
***ST***
After saying their goodbyes the four began the journey north toward Darwin. It wasn't an entirely unfamiliar ride for some in the car, Frisky had taken the route before for work and Bandit had had friends from uni who'd lived in Darwin that he'd visited before he and Chilli had settled down and had the girls. The girls…
Bandit clenched the steering wheel slightly tighter as he willed the thought out of his mind. It had been three months, more than long enough to grieve Bingo's death. Stripe was functioning, and so was Trixie and they'd lost their youngest-and even if it had been rough at first, Stripe was fine by now with his daughter's death... Chilli was managing. Even the kids were functioning-Bluey seems mostly normal, if a little quieter and the Bells had become their new boys in addition to Lee. There was no excuse for him to give in to these stupid urges to always break down crying. It had been long enough. As his father had taught him as a child, Unless there's a reason to cry, don't. No one takes a crybaby seriously.
They drove through the outback for hours without any sign of life. There were occasional towns, long since abandoned, and some failed shelters-signs of dogs who'd tried to escape to the outback-burned out wrecks of caravans, tents strewn about, crops dead in the arid desert soil… it was sobering to think that so many other dogs had tried to flee to the wilderness and had failed. The group was mostly quiet during the ride. Bandit knew his brother and Frisky well, and they all knew Jeff well. The only two who weren't terribly familiar were Bandit and Jeff, but at the moment Bandit wasn't exactly ready to open up to someone new, so the two didn't talk much.
It was the heat of the day when the 4x4 reached the outer limits of Darwin. Here there were suburbs like the one that Bandit and Stripe had lived in outside of Brisbane. The highway cut through the browning lawns of identical homes, a swath of what had once been emerald green grass separating the road from the neighborhoods it interrupted on either side, tall concrete walls keeping the highway hidden from the now empty subdivisions. The clapboard and stucco homes were no longer the beacons of the Australian dream that they'd once been. Some had burned to the ground as a result of gas mains exploding; others had been ravaged and scavenged-windows busted, doors kicked in, and everything of worth long since stolen. It was uncomfortably quiet as the orange jeep drove down the asphalt. Here there were other vehicles appearing dotted on the highway.
It was clear that there had been an attempt at a mass evacuation-there were hundreds of cars lined on either side of the freeway, most brimming with long rotten food and supplies. The 4x4 trundled through the center median, having to abandon the pavement as the sedans, wagons, and SUVs sitting empty on either side in a never ending traffic jam refused to let them pass. Some of the vehicles had blood splattered on them, and more than a few skeletons were poking out from windows or sprawled on the ground. The small ones were particularly disturbing for the parents in the group, which was to say all the occupants of the Heeler family's car. Rad frowned as they passed a scene where there was a blood soaked car-seat overturned on the ground and a few small bones nearby. He looked back at Frisky and held her hand, the two both having the same concerning thoughts about their own children as they ventured further into the city.
The idling engine and crunch of dead grass under the tires were the only sounds aside from occasional caws from birds circling high in the air. Vultures had become worryingly common in any place that had once had a sizable population. Apparently birds were unaffected by the virus, as they'd taken canine kind's demise as their own boon-populations exploding to inhabit the abandoned buildings and take as much of the food and decaying corpses as they could manage. It was an uneasy atmosphere, to say the least.
A jackknife is a knife with a folding blade. Most pocketknives are jackknives by definition, as their blades fold into themselves for safe storage. Jackknives can also refer to a different situation, however. A jackknifed tractor trailer is when a tractor trailer (or 18 wheeler, according to some) has a collision with itself. Usually this is when the truck slides or spins and the front (the cab) collides with the trailer. So when the Heeler 4x4 stopped to discover a jackknifed tractor trailer blocking their path, along with about a dozen other cars that had been part of the pile-up, it was a discouraging sight.
"Well, fuck." Rad muttered, looking at the large wall of metal blocking their path. The highway was completely blocked off, with no room to drive past on either side.
"Does anyone know how to drive a tractor trailer? Maybe we could get it free?" Jeff suggested from the back seat.
"If it could drive it probably wouldn't be stuck here, but good idea." Frisky replied looking at Jeff beside her.
"Well, what do we do now?" Rad asked.
"We either get out and walk, or we turn around and find a different route into the city." Bandit stated, looking at the wreckage in front of them.
"Well, neither's exactly a good option." Rad grumbled.
"You have any better ideas?"
"No." He admitted.
"If we get out and walk we're more exposed, but we aren't too far from the lab." Frisky stated. "It was only about a mile off the highway, we aren't too far." She gestured to a sign hanging from a metal post that spanned the highway; the exit she'd mentioned the lab was off of was the next one.
"Okay, but what if we get swarmed by zeds?" Rad asked.
"Well, we could backtrack and find another route, but it's likely to take some time, and our alternate route could just end up as another dead end." Jeff commented. "If all the highways have barriers like this we'd be forced to drive on surface streets, and that would just draw every zed's attention to us."
"Well, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't…" Rad sighed, "Bandit, what do you think? You're the leader after all."
Bandit frowned a moment as he thought, "Jeff makes a good point, plus we don't have a ton of gas, if we keep driving around we'll end up wasting it looking for a potential way in. If we park here we know where we are, get to the lab, get what we need, and get back."
"You make it sound so easy." Frisky quipped.
"It won't be, but I don't think driving to look for a different route makes sense right now." Bandit said, carefully weighing the options.
"Alright, you heard 'em, let's get going." Rad pushed open his door and stepped onto the dry grass.
Bandit cut the engine and the four departed the 4x4. The group was all fully clothed and armed, having prepared that morning for the difficult mission they knew was in store. Bandit was wearing a denim jacket over a red t-shirt, jeans, and brown boots. He slung a cricket bat over his shoulder as he turned to check on the others. Jeff was the next to depart the vehicle. He was wearing a navy sherwani over a pair of brown pants with black boots. He slung his weapon over his shoulder, a metal bat with protruding spikes.
Bandit's brow rose at the polished metal, "Woah, that's one bonzer zed basher."
Jeff smiled. "Thanks, I made it myself."
"You made that?"
"Yeah, in Burketown there was a blacksmith and I worked with him for a little while and learned how to make tools."
"Dude, why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you I made a bat with spikes?" Jeff asked, unsure.
"No, tell me you're a blacksmith!"
"Well, I'm not a very good one…" Jeff said as he blushed slightly.
"Doesn't matter mate, still better than the rest of us. When we get back I swear I'm gonna get what you need to do that in Ranken." Bandit's tail wagged in excitement at the prospect of having more tools.
Rad cleared his throat. The eldest Heeler brother was in a worn leather jacket over an Acca Dacca shirt and jeans with cowboy boots. He had a crossbow and a bunch of bolts slung over his shoulder. "Not to interrupt the bro-fest, but we do need to get moving…"
Bandit rolled his eyes, "Christ Rad, you try any more to look like a bogan and I think you'd have to wear an akubra."
Rad clasped his forearm as he flipped Bandit off. "Yeah, and your mullet definitely sells that you spent eight years at uni to get that fancy doctorate of yours…"
Bandit huffed; it had been a joke among his family how he never exactly looked like he had a doctorate. It wasn't until he literally made copies and used them as placemats at a family dinner that they finally stopped bothering him about it. "Eh, fuck off."
"Whatever." Rad grinned, happy to have struck a nerve.
"Boys, can we please not bicker like the little children you are?" Frisky chided. She was wearing a heavy canvas jacket and pants with boots and carrying a shotgun and bandolier. "Some of us are actually focused on the mission at hand."
"Since when can you use a shotgun?" Bandit asked, surprised at her choice of weapon.
"My dad wanted a boy and had three girls; he took us hunting in the bush when we were all kids. I've been using these since I was ten."
"Fair enough." Bandit nodded. "Since you know where it is, lead the way."
Frisky walked quietly as they approached the wall of cars. She motioned for them to follow her, climbing over the roof of an SUV to check what was on the other side. After a moment she returned to the ground with the other three.
"There're some zeds, but not many. Looks like they can't get over the wreck. If we're quiet we should be able to sneak past them." She reported.
Bandit and Rad nodded in sync. Jeff raised an eyebrow at the display, not realizing quite how good the brothers were at communicating without words when they needed to, but nodded as well in agreement. They climbed over the black SUV and dropped down onto the ground on the other side one at a time. After a minute they were all over.
"Looks like we can't go back that way…" Jeff commented, noting how this side of the wreck lacked the same easy climb route.
"We'll find another way around." Rad said, clasping his friend on the shoulder.
They snuck along the highway for a while before spotting movement in the distance. Frisky motioned for them to freeze. The form moved past a burnt-out ute, it was a housecat.
Rad breathed a sigh of relief. "It's only a cat, come on." He nudged Frisky to keep moving.
Frisky frowned, "Something isn't right about that cat…"
The orange tabby turned slightly to reveal the entire left side of its torso had been torn open. Black blood mottled the fur and exposed bone stuck out.
Rad's eyes dilated, "Is that a fucking zombie housecat?"
"What the fuck? I thought only canines could get the zed virus…" Bandit asked, clearly alarmed.
"Well, apparently not. I guess they never got around to sharing that cats could be infected with all the other bullshit going on." Frisky said.
"What do we do? If it sees us it could lunge and infect us." Jeff said, looking hesitantly at the creature.
"I'll take care of it." Bandit said, pulling down his goggles and up his bandana to hide his face from any blood.
"No!" Rad hissed.
But Bandit continued, he snuck up behind the initially unaware orange cat. Bandit quickly swung down his bat on its head, leading to it to let out a yowl, but go limp. He'd put it out of its undead misery, but its shriek was louder than he'd thought it'd be. A low growl was heard as zeds from nearby started approaching the sound.
"We have to go! Now!" Jeff said, noting the zeds almost in range.
"This way!" Frisky charged toward the exit, the group following her as they fled off the highway, down a ramp into a more residential area. The scream had attracted the attention of around a dozen zeds who'd been on the highway, each now howling as they formed a mob chasing after the four living dogs.
"Good going Bandit, ya fucking cunt!" Rad chastised as he shot off a bolt and successfully took down one of the hoard before turning around and continuing his sprint.
"Oh, fuck off." Bandit replied, running along the sidewalk as he looked for somewhere to hide.
More zeds heard the mob and soon it grew from a dozen to nearly thirty, with half-decayed forms shambling out of houses and yards to join the group from the highway. "Guys… We need to get out of here!" Jeff warned, smashing one of the crowd as it lunged at him.
At the end of the block was a primary school. The low-slung brick building had small windows high off the ground and a fenced in playground. It looked like it had been built in the 1950s or 60s, given the size and appearance. "Quick, this way!" Bandit shouted, charging to the school and scampering over the chain-link fence, glad that he'd climbed enough as a teen sneaking in and out of his family's house. The others followed, tossing weapons over before climbing up the fence. The zeds were barred for now; unable to break through, but the rusty ties that held the mesh on the posts weren't going to hold forever. Rad shot a few through the mesh, but with the weight of the group it was clear there wasn't time to stay and try to pick them all off.
"Come on!" Frisky ordered, going over to the school building. The doors were plate-glass, so she smashed out a panel with the butt of her gun and undid the lock, letting the group in. After they entered she looked and saw a trophy case by the wall. It wasn't secured. "Here, help me block the door…"
Rad, Bandit, and Jeff all grabbed onto it and worked the heavy wooden case over in front of the door.
"That should hold for now." Rad commented.
"We need to sweep the building, then we figure out what we're doing about the zeds outside." Bandit stated.
After a sweep of the classrooms, office, and gym, it was clear that the building was empty. None of the rooms had windows close to the ground, and except for the doors to the playground that they'd come through the other exterior doors were all heavy steel.
"Looks like we got lucky, the building's empty." Jeff commented.
"Yeah, lucky we're completely surrounded…" Rad replied, looking out the window to see the large crowd of zeds had broken through the playground fence and were now wandering close to the building.
"Look, we can't do anything right now. Let's just bunker down for the night and evaluate come morning." Frisky said.
The others begrudgingly agreed, and after some analysis of the rooms decided the supply room for the science lab was the safest in the building. It was an interior room without windows or doors to the outside, and due to it once housing dangerous chemicals all the doors locked. So they sat down on the asbestos tile floor in relative darkness as the occasional screech of a zed was heard from outside the building.
"I'm sorry." Bandit said, his ears flat against his scalp as he looked as his shoes. He was curled into a ball in the corner. "This is all my fault. It was my shitty leadership that got us into this mess. Now you're all going to die because I'm a worthless fucking cunt."
The others were silent a moment before Rad sighed. "Bandit you aren't a cunt. Look, I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said that… it was the adrenaline and mortal terror talking."
"You were right. I am. I'm a failure. I couldn't even keep my own family safe. First Socks, then Pat, then Janelle… I couldn't even keep Bingo safe." He sighed, tears dripping down his muzzle. He looked up at Jeff, "Bingo was my daughter, and I let her get shot when we were under attack. It's my fault. I should've done something…"
He choked back tears as he pulled his legs closer. "I know I should be over it by now, but how the fuck am I supposed to get over it? I can't concentrate on anything and I keep fucking up because I'm so fucking fixated on something that happened three months ago!"
"Ban… It was your daughter, it's okay to not be over it. If I lost Chris or Mary… I don't know what I'd do." Rad said. "But it wasn't your fault; you weren't the one who pulled the trigger. I know you, and I know you did everything you could've to keep your family safe."
Bandit sadly shook his head. "I can't do this… I can't keep thinking like this. I need to just move on." He wiped at his face.
"Bandit, it's only been three months. No one's expecting you to be over her death this fast…" Frisky said.
"Well then why the fuck is everyone else okay? Why am I the only one who's barely holding it together?! Bluey's fine, Chilli's fine. How are they both okay but I still feel like I should just fucking end it all?!"
The room was silent a moment as Bandit panted.
"You really feel like that?" Rad asked.
"I don't know, maybe?" Bandit admitted. "I lost my miracle. Bingo wasn't supposed to survive. She was born way too early, Chilli was at 27 weeks when she went into labor. She was in the NICU for over a year before she was able to come home, and to top it off we discovered she had Celiac's and couldn't even inhale gluten or she'd have to be rushed to the hospital. But she was happy, and by the time she was three she was normal… I was so proud of her; she was the best thing I ever did… I don't like admitting it, but she was my favorite. Now she's dead because I didn't take down that bull-terrier asshole when I had the chance. What's left of her is half-decayed in some shallow grave in the outback. I mean, what fucking reason do I have to go on? I failed."
"You didn't fail." Jeff muttered from the opposite corner.
"Really? Cause it sure fucking feels like I did."
"You didn't." Jeff looked up, his own eyes red. "You still have some family. You have a wife, a daughter, and a son-as well as two other boys you took in as your own. That alone is worth living for. Some of us would kill to have even a part of that." He paused, "I lost my everything. Do you know what it's like to know that everyone you'd ever cared for is dead and gone?"
Bandit was silent.
"I worked on the rig here, but my family-my wife, my mother, my brothers, my children… they were all back in India." He shook his head. "The city I lived in was one of the first to be overrun with zeds. The Indian government bombed it to the ground in an attempt to keep them from spreading. Even if they hadn't been turned they were blown to pieces. I lost them almost a year before your country fell. It's been two years and I still haven't gotten over it. I cry for my loved ones every day. You are blessed to have anyone alive. You have a brother who's willing to risk his life to try and help others." He gestured to Rad, "I know the pain is immense, but you are a fool to think that death would be the answer."
"I wish I could've been more in the girls' lives." Rad commented, "I barely have any memories with Bingo and I feel like shit knowing she's gone. I have even less of Socks, and to think that I'll never get the chance to change that, to be there…" He sighed, "Your pain is a sign that you were a good father. The fact that it hurts as much as it does is a good thing. You're a good dog Bandit; if anyone's a worthless cunt here it's me…"
"No you aren't." Frisky said, patting her husband's paw. "You're here now, and we're doing our best. We're here for each other."
"Either way, I swear, God as my witness, if we survive this shit-show I'm going to be a better father and uncle."
"Look, I appreciate the kind words and everything, but I think I've had enough talking for tonight. You guys get some rest. I'll take first watch." Bandit stated, getting up as he unlocked the door and went into the adjacent classroom.
***ST***
To say that Bandit still felt guilty would be an understatement. He'd been diagnosed with anxiety at twenty-three when he had a panic attack during an oral report and had to be airlifted to a hospital on the other side of Queensland. He'd been on medication daily since then, and it had mostly worked. He'd still had minor attacks in his thirties, but by the time his daughters were born they'd mostly subsided. That didn't mean that his anxiety was gone however, instead his symptoms shifted. He had compulsive thoughts about his family, and constantly doubted he was a good enough father. Why else would I always go so fucking above and beyond with all the girls' games?
Since he wasn't medicated anymore it had led to some of his older behaviors re-emerging. His fixation and spiraling thoughts had returned, and since Bingo's passing she was the main concern, followed closely by thoughts of Chilli or Bluey or Lee or even one of the Bells dying because of his negligence. He had chronic nightmares of his family dead around him, or discovering that they'd disappeared without a trace. It was too much.
As he stood guard his thoughts turned to an event that happened shortly after Bingo's passing.
A week after Bingo's death he'd woken up in the middle of the night and walked to the medical tent. He hadn't left a note, he figured it wasn't worth it, and he unzipped the flap to go in. After a brief look around he found what he wanted-extra-strength Tylenol. He knew it was dangerous stuff, the margin was pretty thin between treatment and overdose. He unscrewed the cap and poured out about a dozen pills, taking two at a time he started swallowing. Each set of pills felt harder to swallow, but he forced himself to continue. It was at the sixth pill that he heard a noise and turned around, it was Stripe.
"Bandit, what are you doing?" He asked, looking at his brother holding a bottle with a pile of pills in his hand.
"Go away Stripe, this doesn't concern you." Bandit replied, ready to take the next two pills.
"I'm pretty fucking sure it does." Stripe came over and snatched the bottle from Bandit's hand. He read the label and quickly put together what was happening. "How many of these have you had?"
"None, I had a headache." Bandit lied.
"Then why do you have six in your hand?"
"It's a bad headache. Now get out." Bandit growled, his teeth glinting slightly in the light filtering through the flap.
"Bandit, give me the pills."
"No." He replied, a numbness starting to wash through his body as he pulled the pills toward his chest.
Stripe tackled his brother to the ground and in the struggle knocked the pills from Bandit's hand. He pinned his brother.
"Why won't you let me die?!" Bandit wept.
"Because you're my brother!" Stripe replied, rolling Bandit onto his side as he stuck his hand down his brother's throat to trigger his gag reflex. Saliva and clear mucus clung to his fur as he pulled it out, vomit following shortly afterward revealing the yet undigested pills.
Bandit shuddered as he cried. "I just want to die…"
"You aren't going to." Stripe knelt down next to his brother and looked him in the eyes. "I know how it feels. I know your pain. I lost my daughter and my niece, same as you. You're seriously hurting, but doing this… it isn't going to help you or anyone else. I thought cutting myself would make me feel better, but all it did was make me hurt even more. I am here for you. Now come on." He hoisted Bandit to his feet. "We're getting you some water, then we're going to sit and talk."
And they did.
It still hurt, but he wasn't certain he wanted to die.
Back in the present Bandit wiped a silent tear from his eye. What the others had said had merit, and he really didn't want to die anymore. But he still hurt, it hurt more than anything he could've imagined before it happened. Maybe I do need to figure out how to handle these thoughts… I probably should talk to Chilli, and maybe even Bluey. He hung his head in shame. When we get done with this, if we make it out of this, I need to talk to them and we need to figure something out because I can't keep living like this.
***Author's Note***
Well, Bandit's still processing his daughter's death, the others are trying to figure out their own losses, and a hoard of zombies is at the door ready to tear them limb from limb. Next chapter takes us back to camp with the others talking a bit about what they need to do. If you liked this, please consider checking out my other stories-"Motherhood" and my collab with Kodiwolf321 "Project New Era"-and leaving a review. I appreciate all those who have commented! I also am now open for commissions, so if you would like something, feel free to send me a DM.