JASON.
An hour before dawn was the darkest and most frightening time since the lights of Australia had gone out. I say Australia when in fact it was a world wide phenomenon caused by some kind of solar flare which had been long predicted and long ignored. What no one could have foreseen was the virus that somehow found its way among us. Was it military? Or was in nature? We didn't know and we probably never would.
Looking out of the old shop with big glass windows that overlooked filthy streets, I was temporarily residing in with my fellow sufferers, I remembered the Sydney lights over the harbour and car lights still moving up and down the arterial highway over the Harbour bridge like blood through veins.
After the flair we had managed to live for a few weeks on staples and with battery lamps and the lucky few with generators. Lawlessness was rife but my family and I had managed to survive hidden in our luxury apartment close to the city centre. Then the news hit by way of local notices that a virus was spreading through the city. Mostly it was affecting the elderly and we all chose to ignore it, then suddenly everyone was beginning to develop it.
In my home it was my wife first..
So here I was, gazing out of the dusty old newsagents window surrounded by sleeping people and the debris of months of abandonment. I was Hungry and dirty and I was doing my share of the watch. By now fingers of daylight began to move across the sky as the sun rose behind the building that surrounded us. I leaned up against the window pain, half sitting on the display shelf. A rifle was beside me and I had a pistol in my belt. The light began to penetrate the corners of the room and allow me to see the comrades that had been my travel partners these last few months. Against the far wall where posters of the Times and Cosmopolitan rotted away was the eldest of the group, Bob Coats. A gray haired 60 year old from the coast. He had been a bus driver that took kids to and from school in Nowra. He slept soundly with thick black rimmed glasses still planted firmly on his nose. Bob was gently snoring sleeping in an upright position. He was a quiet man who I suspected may have seen military service, though he never said. We had all seen how he handled a gun and how he kept his clean. It just gave us the impression of someone who was comfortable with weapons
Not far from him was the only woman in our group, 30+ Ann Caps from Perth a bar maid working in Cronulla, she had nearly died from a fever a few weeks back, the same fever that killed most of the population and it still struck me with awe that she had survived. She was a dark haired woman, very slender and was always looking for cigarettes. Ann carried her 2 daughters photos in a wallet kept in her jean pocket and when she could she would look at them tearfully, we never asked. We knew they were dead. Of all the people that I had come across in those early months it was her that made my heart ache.
Sleeping closest to the exit was Peter and his brother Jason Rogers. They were twins (not identical) from some property south of Sydney. A dairy farm run by the family for a century. They were in their early twenties rugged boys that played rugby when the world was normal, fair haired and built like a 'brick shit house' as my old man use to say. They weren't far from where I was, both were armed with semi automatics we had taken from a deserted CDC military outpost in the suburbs. These two were crazy but solid with group defence. Then there was Daniel Morris from Bankstown Sydney. He was a former security guard in a shopping centre that we had held up in for weeks when it all first started. Dan was tall, skinny, with deep set eyes and rough scraggy beard. He had had some first aid experience and kept us all healthy. Without anyone knowing why, it was Daniel that was our leader.
Sitting up in a chair about twelve feet from me was the man we called Hobo, an aboriginal from out side of the city who spent his life moving from one town to another searching for something he could never put a name to, working on properties to keep himself in money and out of the laws sights, he was armed with a double barrel shotgun, a huge knife that even crocodile Dundee would have envied. Hobo carried a huge backpack that contained our water, some food and spare ammo. He was dark skinned with a cheeky laugh, short and stocky. He always wore an old beat up akubra hat, that his wild hair sprung out from under it at odd angles.
Hobo was awake and looking at me. 'all clear' I mouthed and stood up. I felt exhausted but there was no chance of sleeping now. I saw the others beginning to stir. Hobo got up and walked over to me. He handed a bottle of water over to me and I took it sipping at the contents. We had all gone way pass not sharing our stuff, the water had become so hard to find that we barely got by and any remote idea of exchanging bugs was long gone. We had come to the realization that if we were going to catch the virus or any other virus, it would have already happened.
"wouldn't mind some bacon and eggs" Hobo said softly. I smiled at the thought. "fried tomatoes too."
"eggs sunny side up" I grinned back at him and handed the bottle back.
"all good fellas?" Dan said softly from behind Hobo. I looked back outside and watched the wind stir up some papers.
"sure was. Nothing happening."
"well we can move on in an hour if everyone is on the move.." Dan stretched and I heard some definite creaking in his joints. "Might be able to get some more water at the warehouse on Mortimer Drive" He reached into his pocket and took out a beat up map. He spread it out on an old counter. We had marked the warehouse down a few days ago when we broke into a long deserted Foodland store and checked out the old delivery dockets. "hopefully no one else has been there." Dan pointed out the roads we would take to reach the warehouse.
"Food would be nice." Hobo said. 'we've only got a few tins left and I bloody sick of spaghetti." Every one agreed and I noticed that the others were now getting their gear together and beginning to hover over the map too. Jason and Peter volunteered to carry the back packs and what remained of our meager supplies, no one argued and we passed over the Adidas and Panther bags. They weren't that heavy but being free of them felt good, at least to me.
The sun was shining behind the buildings we walked between. The dark windows showed our reflections in a ghostly way, wavering in the morning warmth. I saw myself and didn't recognize the man that looked momentarily back at me. Thinner, fair unkempt hair and a beard that was rough and probably grubby. I had lost lots of weight, this was something I could never achieve when the world was normal. Before the virus and the mass loss of people had occurred, I was a healthy man in my late thirties with a mortgage and two kids. That memory hurt. That memory reminded me of John and Mark, I can picture them smiling at me through the house window as I pulled up after work. I could see their ghosts in the dirty windows surrounding me.. I swallowed hard at the lump in my throat and moved faster looking away from those images that appeared in the windows staring like dark eyes into my soul. Somethings were best left alone.
I watched every corner and dark alley we walked passed and held my breath. One thing I did not fail to do was to help make sure we were safe. Not that it always worked that way.
Peter the darkest of the twins was walking beside me and passed me a bottle of water.
"Its warming up, man" he said. "Dan told me to pass every one a drink." Old Bob was lingering beside me and waited for a drink too, before he moved forward.. Bob was quiet, sad, and weary of us all.
"We're not that far from the warehouse now Peter"
"Yeah, still its best to do what I'm told." We smiled at each-other. You tended to become close to the people in the group. Once there were two others. When we lost them a few weeks ago through an ambush, it was like loosing a family member. They had been the sisters that had been wondering alone through city streets, barely fifteen and so innocent. It had been impossible to get them from the gang of marauding men hell bent on acquiring women or girls to rape and eventually kill. I shook with anger when I remember the stink and horror of them. But we moved on and where we had been seven, we were now five. It didn't lend to trusting situations that brought us into contact with others and so far we had managed to avoid people.. of course sometimes I felt like we were the only ones left in this god for-sake world. But we could ill afford to trust other people again.
It took us only half and hour to get to the warehouse. A huge distribution warehouse where food was stored for the outer suburbs. The aluminum walls were all intact and the huge roller doors securely locked, a good sign. The outer fencing was broken and all the vehicles still parked were burnt out and lay smashed up against the fences perimeter. Damn! No chance of securing a car here. The twins took the lead and inspected the grounds while we waited at the fence line. Not far from the warehouse were smaller work shops in similar condition. I noted one had been a truck work shop, still no vehicles but I did wonder if some weapons might be inside so Hobo and I told the group we would take a quick look.
"maybe you should wait." Ann said nervously she held a rifle pointing it safely at the ground. Her pale complexion and wrinkled forehead told a multitude of what she had suffered since the infection. I gently patted her shoulder affectionately. She touched my hand in return.
"We'll be careful don't worry"
"please Jason." she sighed "we cant afford to loose anyone." I gave a smile and checked my rifle before Hobo led the way to the first of the work shops we would check out.
It wasn't far from the warehouse and I waved out to Ann who waved back when we were about to enter. The place was dark, windows blackened with dust but shards of light infiltrated the gloom and Hobo did a quick sweep of the interior while I heaved at the garage doors to brighten the workshop. Inside was a tractor pulled to pieces and obviously in the process of repair before the virus. A large land cruiser was beside it and Hobo quickly got onto checking out if it was fix able.. I nearly fell to my knees when the engine started to turn over. Hobo gave me a thumbs up.. hot damn! I couldn't believe it.
"not a hell of a lot of fuel" he said. The garage doors were open finally,and I saw an old Honda bike leaning up against the wall to Hobos left and to the right was a small stair case and a balcony where the office was. Hobo stayed with the 4wd tuning it and checking the engine so I decided to go up the stairs and look inside the office.
It wasn't dark in there. But when I opened the door a stench so horrific hit me like a wall. I dry wretched swore and stumbled back. My eyes were watering but I saw what was in there and quickly shut the door. Two people had taken shelter inside and it was where they decided to end their lives with a rifle.
"what is it?" Hobo asked seeing my reaction from the vehicle. He was looking up at me. I couldn't talk because the smell was still assaulting my senses. I waved down to indicated that I was OK. But I put my head down and leaned against the railing of the staircase, nauseated beyond belief. One nearly headless woman and a man with his chest blown away had not been the first corpses we had encountered but the smell always knocked me sideways. Pulling myself together I noted another door but it led to a toilet that stank of dust and stagnant water. Nothing up here. The place was empty but for the dead and the bonus car we had found. Hobo and I emptied rubbish out of the interior and wiped down the bench seats with rags then we both got in with me at the wheel and drove out.
Anne was standing outside the huge double garage-like doors that the group had managed to break into. She jumped up and down excitedly, waving her arms when she saw Hobo and I drive through the gates of the storage yard. Beside her the twins whooped and hollered in glee which brought out the rest of the group. There were cheers all round and that was our mistake.
The first shot hit the land-cruisers door behind me. I was grabbing my rifle and swiveling myself to look toward the shooter when the next shot slammed into my shoulder. Soundless in my pain I raised the rifle and glared through the scope toward the several buildings to our left. Hobo had hit the accelerator and sped toward our comrades who were taking cover in the building when shots were beginning to rain down on them too. I saw the flash of gunfire from a window smashed to ease the shooters targeting. I fired twice and saw something fall inside the room then more movement when another took the persons place.
"I got no fucking idea how many," I shouted above the engine. "looks like a few." by now my shirt was soaked with blood. I turned forward and felt a wave of heat rise from feet to my head. My vision wavered. Hobo slammed on the breaks just shy of the entrance of the to the warehouse. He jumped out without closing the doors. I was glancing behind us, though everything seemed to be in a haze. The car door felt like lead to push open and I fairly stumbled out of the passenger seat before lurching forward into Hobos arms
"JASON?" suddenly the world went dark.