Evelyn took the wheel from Kristy and moved away from the blockade with her foot pressed to the floor. Driving away from another precarious situation had become a daily occurrence. She’d watched the action from the side mirror in the passenger’s seat, hearing the bullets clunk into the van, watching Callan and the admiral take positions at the back window. She hated to admit it, but when the other car crashed, she felt a huge amount of relief. The explosion several minutes later lit up the sky. Although men had died, there was no remorse for their deaths, only a growing admiration for Callan.
As she drove on, the others rearranged things in the back of the van. Kristy disappeared with Sarah. Callan and Gallagher were hanging around the gun cupboard. Jake visited her briefly, checking in, which was all he seemed to do of late. It was as though he was gaining more independence every day. Aside from her, he spent most of his time with Sarah and Julie; Evelyn was grateful for their company. Julie was a substitute for his grandmother and Sarah the sister he never had. She thought about them all, including the sick men, Klaus and Gallagher. Each had a skill the group would draw on at different times. Mostly though, she thought about Callan. How he continued to lead them through difficult situations. In addition to her admiration, she found her fondness for him growing daily.
She hadn’t been with a man since Cameron, and he was her first. But she was getting ahead of herself. She doubted he considered her in such a manner. Sure, they had a connection, but she’d had a number of close male friends back in Wagga, even when Cameron was alive. Just because they got along well didn’t mean he desired her. Evelyn knew she wasn’t pretty the way the others had described his fiancée. She was still overweight—although the current diet was taking care of that, but mostly she felt awkward, and almost dorky. A close friend had once described her in that way, although he had followed it up by saying it was an endearing quality. She had been mortified, heightening her self-consciousness, and had never forgotten the comment. Still, it was all too soon for him, even if she could overcome the other obstacles. What she could be sure about was that he liked Jake. They got along well. Jake adored him, even in the short time they had been part of the group. He seemed to sense the similarities with his father.
The sun retreated to the west, filling the sky in soft, ginger light. The temperature had been milder, but still not cool enough to leave the air conditioning off. They were burning fuel with it on. Once, she tried to turn it off, but the children complained about the heat, and she reneged.
She’d been driving alone for almost twenty minutes when Callan dropped into the passenger’s seat. She smiled. Blue Boy fell at his feet, never far from his master. “You’re our go-to driver now. Miss Reliable. I meant to ask earlier if you’ve always been like that?”
Evelyn shook her head. “No. When my husband was around, I didn’t really take over anything. I mean, I organized Jake when he was young, but Cam took care of everything else.”
“Sounds like he was one of the good guys.”
“He was. I think you’d have liked him. I know he would have liked you.”
His mouth curled up. Such a friendly smile. It changed his face from pleasant to handsome.
Stop.
“How long before our next break?”
“Seymour is about four hours, maybe a touch over.”
“Do we have to get to Melbourne tomorrow though?”
“Klaus seems to think it’s a matter of urgency to get more of the serum. We’re guided by him.”
Callan sat back in the seat as the last light of the day vanished. They learned much about each other—where they went to school, their childhood ambitions. Callan spoke of Sherry, and this time he did so with less pain in his voice, and more reflection of a woman who sounded like she hadn’t treated him well. Callan spoke of his parents, Evelyn of hers, and for both of them, it was cathartic. She talked about Cameron, of his death prior to the plague, and when her voice cracked describing his final days, Callan reached out and squeezed her hand. She didn’t know why, but talking to him was easy, and comforting, and she hadn’t felt that way in forever. Six months after her husband died, Evelyn had gone on several dates. There had been no connections, no spark of any kind. She’d only accepted because her parents had pushed her to do it, to get back on the horse from which she had fallen very, very hard. No horses for me yet, Evelyn had thought at the time. Maybe ever. But sitting there with Callan, she smelled the distant stables.
They followed the long, slow arc of the Hume Highway towards Melbourne. They passed thorough Holbrook, and Callan told her the story of his mate, Johnny, and his treachery, but how Johnny had redeemed himself in the end. The place was devoid of zombies though. In the rear-view mirror, she saw Julie pause at the sink and put a hand over her face, stifling tears. She had been strong until then.
Albury was next, although they stuck to the Hume, bypassing the town center. Evelyn slowed the camper, weaving between the shells of vehicles, following the route set by Dylan and Greg in the four-wheel drive. On the other side of Albury-Wodonga, Callan offered to swap, but Evelyn was still comfortable.
At a service center about twenty minutes outside of Wangaratta, they stopped for fuel, refilling their cans and stretching their legs. The place was empty, and although the shop was still in reasonable condition, much of the supplies had been taken. Still, there were enough chocolate bars to cause her a minor breakdown and order Jake to brush his teeth twice. They stayed longer than they should have, prolonging the inevitable.
Bypassing Wangaratta, they went around Glenrowan, a place made famous by Australia’s most notorious criminal, the bushranger, Ned Kelly. Benalla, Violet Town, and Euroa all passed by in darkness and silence.
Approaching Seymour, Callan decided—after consultation with the others—that this was the place they should stay the night. He had Evelyn signal Greg and Dylan by flashing the headlights, and they pulled over soon after. They found a place well out from the town center and off the main highway so that if any more of the crew from Kapooka had decided to give chase, they were well concealed. They parked under the low-hanging branches of a gum tree, where the soft breeze would scrape leaves over the roof of the camper all night, but nobody minded.
Evelyn should have been exhausted, but her discussions with Callan—learning about each other, had energized her. As they exited the camper to stretch their legs, she found herself glancing in his direction, looking for a reciprocal gesture, but it didn’t happen. She dismissed her silliness, pushed the thought aside and gave Jake a hug. He had attached himself to Sarah, slightly older, who was charged with learning about medical treatment from Kristy. She worried he wasn’t get enough of her attention, but Jake rejected her concern. Kids were resilient, she knew, although for how long he would be affected by the situation she didn’t know.
While some of the men disappeared, sweeping the area for feeders, the van filled with smells they hadn’t experienced in weeks. Julie had managed to bake a small loaf of fresh bread, and they ate it topped with the last sliver of butter, onions, and thick Green’s gravy. Their silence spoke of its taste.
Afterwards, Callan drew the map out of a compartment over the sink and unfolded it on the table.
“Victoria.” He spread it, folding down the edges. “We’re here.” Evelyn leaned in from the side and saw the name SEYMOUR. Callan drew his finger downward along a bumpy line to Melbourne. “About an hour or two and we’ll be in the city.”
“Where exactly are we going?” Evelyn asked.
Klaus reached out and pointed to the northwest—Broadmeadows—then followed a short line running west from Sydney Road, a continuation of the Hume Highway on which they had done most of their travel south. “The Commonwealth Serum Laboratories.” He coughed as though trying to clear his throat, but it turned into something more, as if he was choking. Callan put a hand on his back.
“You all right?”
“Fine,” he managed. Evelyn passed him a glass of water. He sipped and continued. “They make vaccines and test all sorts of medicinal supplements for viruses. They should have the ingredients to make the serum
and
the technology to mix them.”
“Are you sure?” Kristy asked. “They have another site, don’t they?”
“Yes, but this one is closest to us. When the world was the way it was before, they did all the things we need. Now, who knows? We’ll find out.”
“Broadmeadows was a rough place when I lived in Melbourne,” Julie said. “High crime rates. Tough people. You didn’t hang around there if you wanted to keep your head on your shoulders.”
“Well, let’s hope it’s changed.”
Evelyn had a question. She had been wondering where they were going
after
Broadmeadows, once they had acquired more serum. But Callan beat her to asking it.
“While we’re here, why don’t we talk about the plan after we get the serum.”
“I need to go the city,” Dylan said, “I have to find out if my sister’s still alive.”
“We’ve all got family we want to check on,” Callan said. “But we—”
“I know that. But I’m going there whether you guys are with me or not.”
“What?” Kristy said. “You’d leave us all behind?”
“You wanna drag everyone through hell to get there?” Callan asked.
Dylan stared at Kristy. “Fuck you both.” Kristy recoiled in horror. “She’s my sister. I know you both have each other, but some of us don’t have anyone.”
Evelyn watched Dylan’s expression. His tight eyes and flexing jaw said he wasn’t going to change his mind about this. He was different, of late. Something had changed in him. He had gone underground with a far more steady temperament, more buoyant, engaging. Now he was quieter, but at other times, impatient, aggressive.
“We can make that choice later. We’re on the same goddamn side here.” Gallagher stood and walked between them to the door. “What else can you tell us about Melbourne?
Julie looked sheepish as she spoke. “I was born there.” She handed Jake a glass of water. The light had almost disappeared now. She pressed one of the switches and pulled the curtain above the sink shut. They waited for her to continue. “Lived there until I was eighteen. Met Eric, and we moved to Holbrook. He drove trucks for a long time.”
“Where in Melbourne?”
“Northcote. Almost inner city. Older area, but still a lovely place.”
“Is your family still there?”
Her face softened. “No. As I said before, my mother died when I was young and my father when I was much older. All my aunties and uncles have passed. Both of my sisters live in Queensland now. We don’t talk much.”
How sad, Evelyn thought. She had nothing to complain about her childhood.
“So you know Melbourne well?”
“Oh, yes. I knew those streets as well as anybody. Spent my days on them until I was a teenager. Things were different then. Kids played outside without fear of adult interference. We’d create our own trouble. You caught a tram into the city to explore and spent your day wandering around. It was a wonderful time.” She blinked away the memories and took on a more serious expression. “Melbourne is different to Sydney in that the streets of the CBD are set up in a square, north to south, creating a rectangle pattern. The street names are arranged in some order, from west to east—Spencer, King, William, Queen, Elizabeth, and so on. It’s easy to find your way around. A number of main arterials run right into the city—several join up to High Street, which runs directly through Northcote. And the Hume Highway, which we’ve been on since the beginning, turns into Sydney Road and runs right through Carlton and to the north of the city.”
“Okay, then,” Greg began, rubbing his stubbly beard, “say we find Lauren and manage to survive. What happens after that?”
Dylan had listened in stiff, irritable silence. Now he unfurled like a sleeping animal. “Tasmania, of course.” Callan laughed. “It’s a good idea. Smart. Safe.”
“We don’t know what’s in Tasmania. It might be more infected than the mainland.”
“I doubt it,” Klaus said. “Melbourne will be hell. Tasmania has the best chance of being least affected.”
Callan asked, “How do you know?”
Klaus raised his eyebrows. “Last reports we received were that they had far less infected than the mainland. They also have a research facility. It was one of the last with which we had contact. We lost
our
signal. They might still be operational.”
“Who’s going to fly us there?”
“We’re not going to fly,” Dylan said with a knowing look, as though he had been waiting for this moment. “We’re going to find a boat at Station Pier and the admiral is going to drive us.”
EIGHTEEN
Darkness had come again. Lauren sat in Harvey’s room watching him sleep. It was a place she came to think, usually to get away from Todd, but now he wasn’t around to get away from. Part of her wished he and Lenny, even the girls from the apartment above, were still there. What were their names? Denise… and Sherryn or Sharon? She couldn’t recall. Their introduction had been amidst some emergency or another. But they had gone out that morning on her insistence to find some more food, and hadn’t returned. She supposed they might have run away, deciding the apartment, and her demands, were no longer worth it. More likely though, they’d been killed. She shouldn’t have cared. Part of her didn’t. But it meant Harvey would grow up without a father—as pathetic as Todd was—and that made her sad for him.
Decision time was upon Lauren again. Same old problem—still no food. Whilst it was everyone’s problem, she felt obligated because it was her apartment. And she had Harvey. He was down to the last bottle of baby formula. Why couldn’t she have persisted with breast-feeding? God knows she had tried. She had taken advice from everyone, but in the end, Harvey hadn’t wanted it.
The options were limited. Lauren would have to go. Claire was determined, but incapable of the physical duress a trip to the streets might entail. Lauren loved her dearly, but she was a city girl, raised with a silver spoon in her mouth, and only just starting to gain her independence after several years living out of her parents’ home. Furthermore, she could only leave Harvey behind with Claire. If anything happened to Lauren, she needed someone to take care of her son. That thought caused a sickly feeling in her stomach. That only left the elderly couple. Steve might be some help, but they would have to leave his wife, Lorraine, behind. Lauren didn’t know if they would separate.
Where to go? Not the markets. Especially not in the dark. The 7-Eleven? She had suggested that to Todd. In daylight, it was plausible, but now it was a fully-fledged mission. They had no weapons beyond kitchen knives. It really only left them with the convenience store downstairs. It was a long shot. Todd and Lenny had last checked it, returning with a torn carton filled with several half-bottles of wine. Lauren had not been down there for almost a week, and then the choices had been narrowed to basic sweet biscuits and salsa dip. There weren’t even any crackers. Lauren called Claire into the bedroom soon after, and explained her plan.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Claire said.
“Do we need food?”
“Yes.”
“Who else is capable of going out there?”
Claire looked away, biting down a response. “Steve?”
“He can go with me, but he can’t go alone.” She had no comeback to that. “But I need you to do me a favor… if I don’t make it back.”
“Fuck off, Lauren. Don’t say that shit.” She bit her fingernails. “This is where people are stupid. They do stupid stuff. If you see a zombie, run. Simple. Don’t be a hero.”
“Listen.” Claire almost swallowed her fingers. “I won’t do anything stupid, but
if
I don’t make it back, you need to take care of Harvey for me.” Claire’s face pinched into disbelief. Lauren stuck up her hand. “You’re the only one I trust, babe. His father is dead, or gone. For good. If I disappear, he’ll have nobody but you.” Claire’s face relaxed, eyes wide, lips a straight line. All the bravado had fled. “I hate to put it on you, but life’s not fair now.”
With two hands, Claire took Lauren by the scruff of her collar and pulled her forward. Her lips trembled, and in her right eye, tears welled. “I will look after Harvey if anything ever happens. But tonight, you are
not
going to die. Understand?”
Lauren threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tight. “I won’t. I promise.” After a long moment, she tried to pull away, but Claire wouldn’t let her.
Afterwards, Lauren dressed in the heaviest clothing she owned. A leather jacket she hadn’t worn for some years that wouldn’t fit anymore. She still had a little baby weight, but at least her arms were covered. She slipped on a couple of tattered, indoor leather gloves that one of her previous housemates had left, and a set of horse riding boots she had brought from Albury but never used. Steve wore a pair of jeans and a shirt. Lauren felt guilty.
They climbed down the stairs without incident. Hopefully the front door was still locked. It had kept the zombies and potential intruders out. Technically, they had to leave the building to enter the store. Just a dozen or so steps along the pavement, but once they stepped outside, the protection was gone. Lauren peered out the door into the darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust, searching for shadowy movement. Steve stood behind her, his heavy breathing grating on her nerves. Why were older people always like that? Her father had been the same, although thinking of him filled her with sadness. She’d have accepted all his annoying habits and faults just to have him there now. Lauren wondered if he was dead. She thought so. And she wasn’t just saying that to set her mind at ease. In her heart, she believed it.
The darkness was still. “Let’s go.” Lauren pried the door open, holding the big kitchen knife in front of her. It was much cooler outside, heat from weeks of closed doors and no air-conditioning trapped inside the building. Steve placed the door shut. Lauren couldn’t lock it and risk fumbling for a key if they needed to get back inside quickly.
They hurried along the pavement until they reached the corner, pausing outside the convenience store. She thought about all the times she had come here to grab a drink or bite to eat on the way to university. The times they had run out of milk or toilet paper and she had to rush downstairs, and Mrs Yin, the owner would chuckle at her. She thought about the Yins—Mr and Mrs, who owned the shop—a late middle-aged couple whose sons were grown up. They were lovely, and looked after Lauren and Claire like their own. Mrs Yin was a mad Collingwood supporter, and during football season would deck the shop in black and white colors. Lauren smiled at the memory, despite the sadness of it.
She pulled the flashlight from her pocket in preparation. The door was partially open, enough for them to slip through, but still Lauren hesitated. These might be her last few moments. What if they met their death and she never saw Harvey again?
Stop it.
She closed her eyes and imagined an easy passage through the store, where they discovered a source of edible food, and left without issue. The strong, sensible part of her mind kicked back. She cleared away the negative thoughts and tried to focus. She activated the flashlight and stepped through the doorway with the knife in one hand and the flashlight in the other.
The stink of spoiled milk hit her first. She screwed up her nose, placing the back of her hand to it. She almost tripped over something, but caught her feet. “Shit.” She stood, casting the light over the floor, Steve at her side. All the shelving had been tossed, scattering wasted food and broken containers in a thick layer. A glass cabinet lay in shattered pieces. Lauren poked the beam around, revealing more mess near the counter and the fridges, but there were no signs of zombies. A narrower section of the shop ran further back along Franklin Street where they kept wine and beer in fridges. No doubt, Todd and Lenny had filched their stash from them.
They picked their way through the rubble, kicking over rotten food stained with blood. She went directly to her stash of baby formula and was relieved to find the two tins. Beyond that though, there were plenty of empty packets and cardboard boxes with nothing but fresh air. Lauren took a large step to miss a bloody mess, when the heel of her boot slid across the floor.
Steve caught her by the elbow. “Steady on.”
“Thanks.” Her heart pounded. She kept expecting something to happen. And what if it did? She had seen plenty of zombies, but hadn’t actually had to kill one. Could she do it? Lauren flexed the knife in her hand, imagining driving the blade into a person’s flesh. She shivered. But these weren’t people, she reminded herself. And they would tear her face off in a moment.
Will
tear her face off, if she let them. A noise sounded from somewhere inside the shop. Lauren froze. Steve bumped into her. “What is it?” he whispered.
“You didn’t hear that?”
“I’m deaf in one ear.”
“There’s something in here.” Lauren held the knife out further. Her mouth was dry. Suddenly she didn’t want to be there. She wanted Todd and Lenny back. This was something they should be doing.
Another noise broke the silence at her feet. Lauren shrieked. Something flashed past, leapt up at them. A cat appeared, arching its back. It rubbed its flank against one of the big water cooler bottles that had fallen on the floor. Lauren turned to Steve, who was smiling. The cat drifted over to them, purring. It was a chocolate color, still plump. Lauren squatted and scratched behind its ears. “Someone’s still eating enough. You scared me, Mister.” She didn’t know if it was male or female, but it sounded like a good name. The cat stuck its neck out, still purring. How nice it would be to take you home, she thought.
They pushed on towards the back of the shop, checking every conceivable hiding spot where a forgotten box of crackers or biscuits might be hiding. They found plenty of empty wrappers and some evidence of food that had been squashed to pulp, but nothing they could return with to the apartment.
Following the third sweep, Steve suggested they try another shop—maybe the 7-Eleven Lauren had mentioned, or one of the other smaller marts deeper into the city. She felt deflated, knowing they had failed the first step and wasted their time. Now they would either starve, or she and Steve would have to risk their lives on a greater scale by going elsewhere.
She glanced around again, searching for that missing place that everybody else had forgotten. Her eyes rested on the refrigeration units. There wasn’t much left in them now. Most of the beer and wine had been taken—only the cheapest stuff remained, and without power, it had long ago warmed. Lauren crossed to them. She’d been there several times already, but only offered passing interest. Now she stood before the wide glass doors and stared. Lacking their regular contents, the racks were exposed. Lauren saw they angled up towards the back of the units. These were common in supermarkets. Items were stacked from the rear, sliding down towards the front, so that as patrons took a product, another would replace it. She shone the torch up towards the back and the light fell on several cardboard boxes stacked near the edge of the racking.
They propped the doors open with a broken piece of shelving. There were four large boxes in all, and Steve reached inside to draw them out. Lauren was ecstatic. They were placed too carefully for them not to be important. Somebody probably couldn’t carry all the stuff and had stashed it with the intent to return later.
Inside each box was a backpack containing several large bags of rice, packets of flour, cartons of eggs, and almost two dozen cans of tinned food. Tears of relief threatened. All the doubt fled. They would be able to eat for a while longer yet, and she hadn’t failed the others. There was enough in the stash to last them a week, if not longer. A thought struck her as she handed the first pack to Steve. Did they need it all? The question seemed absurd, but the goods had clearly been hidden from view. What if the people who had done it were like them, hungry and desperate? What if they’d scrapped and fought to find it?
“We should leave some of it behind,” Lauren said, and explained to Steve. He gave her a long, thoughtful look. She thought he might argue the point, but in the end, he just nodded and placed two of the packs into the racking.
Finally, armed with two stashes of gold, they started back for the doorway. Lauren felt light of burden for the first time in days. They didn’t need Todd and Lenny. She would rally the troops and find a way to get it done without them.
It was tough with the heavy pack on her back, but she was able to maintain the torch beam ahead and grip the knife in her other hand. They cleared the rear section with its broken bottles of wine and beer fridges, but as Lauren stepped into the main section, another noise sounded from near the doorway.
The cat.
“Here, kitty kitty,” she called in a soft voice. She waited for a response, perhaps a
meow
, or its idling purr, but the silence stretched out.
“Maybe it wasn’t the cat,” Steve said.
“What else could it—”
The crash of glass sounded from the front of the store. Lauren screamed. The torch beam wavered and her grip on the knife loosened. Steve shouted something, but she couldn’t hear it over the remnants of the noise and her sideways movement. He stepped around her and placed himself in front, waiting for the attack.
It came at them from their right, out of the depths of the counter and the remaining empty racks once filled with magazines and baseball caps. The shadows rolled, mixing and merging as one, before Lauren swung the flashlight around. By the time she had it pointed in its direction, the thing was on them, grunting and slobbering and calling for their flesh. She poked the beam into its eyes. Steve tried to knock it out of the way, but he fell aside, losing his footing on the cluttered floor. Lauren slashed at its throat with the knife and missed. It lunged for her; she couldn’t make out if it was a woman or man. It knocked the knife away with a meaty hand and then all she had left was the torch. They were going to die, she thought in a flash. She had battled through it all over the last few weeks; keeping the group fed, dealing with Todd and Harvey, the loss of her parents and Dylan, only for it to end like this.