TWELVE
Darkness came and went, followed by the blackness of a hot, moonless night, and a cool early morning. Still, Todd and Lenny hadn’t left the apartment to find food. They spent the evening and most of the night getting more bombed out of their minds, talking trash and cavorting with the girls from the apartment above. Following a sparing dinner, Lauren asked Todd to go out, and he promised they would after dark. They made excuses, as Lauren expected they would. They also made noise for most of the night—thankfully, Harvey hadn’t woken—and by the early morning hours, the group had fallen asleep. Lauren followed soon after, certain that Todd had cheated on her. But it bothered her little. She found all that remained of her feelings towards Todd were those afforded to any human being—simple decency. She would do nothing beyond that.
By mid-morning however, when they were still sprawled in a twisted mass beneath blankets and sheets and pillows in one corner of the lounge, Lauren decided it was time to break up the slumber party and start getting things into order. She knew they wouldn’t go out of their own volition; she had to force them, which meant another confrontation, and that would no doubt bring its own issues.
She fed Harvey, changed his nappy, and wrapped him tight in two light muslin cloths. He loved to squirm, and she found if she didn’t do the double wrap, he would wriggle free, and wake often. She slipped in his dummy and wrapped up the bag with the dirty nappy just as Claire entered.
“Breakfast is done. The last of the crackers.”
“Did you eat?” Claire looked away. “Claire?”
“What? Did you?”
Lauren hadn’t eaten for almost twenty-four hours. The hunger pangs had passed and she still had energy. If it went on for too long though, she’d feel lethargic.
“I have to make these guys go out and find us some food.”
“You know they were shagging last night?”
She stared at her friend. Claire was the most tactless person she had ever known, but at least you got the truth in one punch. “I didn’t. I suspected, but…”
Claire laid a gentle hand on her arm. There was a warmth in her eyes that unsettled Lauren. “He’s a fucking asshole. Forget about him.”
“I’ll get them up. We need food.”
“Good luck.”
Lauren walked out through the sitting room and into the kitchen. A sudden thought locked hold of her mind. It was crazy, but she knew if he got physical, nobody could stop him. She needed back up. From a wooden block on the bench, Lauren removed a carving knife and slipped it into the back pocket of her jean shorts.
In the lounge, bodies were heaped under the covers in a lumpy pile. She had no idea who was who. She peeled one of them back, hoping it was Todd, but instead found the blonde girl wearing only a pair of panties. She bit down her anger.
Another time.
She dropped the covers back over the girl’s breasts and lifted another section. Todd lay at an odd angle, his mouth open, chest moving slowly. A small pile of orange vomit surrounded his head.
Disgusting
.
What the fuck had she ever seen in this guy?
She poked him with her foot. “Todd?” Nothing. She did it again, feeling her anger spinning out of control. “Todd.” Stony. This time, she bent her leg back and rammed her sneaker into his shoulder.
He came awake suddenly, eyes wide and goofy. “Owwww.” He gawked around and found her looking at him. “What?” The dickhead probably still hadn’t realized she had kicked him, so she did it again. “Stop that!” Todd scrambled to his feet, baring teeth, and stood before her.
His short, wiry brown hair lay flat on his head. He hadn’t shaved for a week and now had a scruffy beard like a Neanderthal. She hated beards. His eyes were red, his skin blotchy. Her vision fell on a love bite halfway along his neck. Lauren swallowed, fighting the urge to pull out the knife and slice off his nuts. Instead, she pointed a finger at him.
“You two are going out to find some food and you’re not coming back without some.”
The sleepiness washed out of Todd’s eyes. Suddenly he was awake, standing before her. “Don’t you
fucking
tell me what to do. Those days are over. Why don’t
you
go out and get the food?”
Lauren stood there for a long moment stupefied by what he said. She kept repeating it, trying to understand
how
he said such things. All the time she had defended him to
her
friends and sometimes even his. All the things she had done for him: paid his study fees, fed and housed him, even clothed him when he ran out of cash. What a fool she was. The rage boiled up in her, jaw grinding, fists clenched. She heard Claire say something from behind, but it didn’t register. Her mind had separated—one part pained by what he said, the other infused with an uncontrollable rage. Before she knew it, the knife was out, pointed at him, blade thick and glistening.
Todd stepped back, his features taut and terrified. Lenny and the girls had woken and now stood off to the side, watching her with wide eyes. Blondie slipped a green t-shirt over her head.
“Hey, come on Lauren,” Lenny said. He was wearing only underpants. “What are you doing?”
A voice in her head
did
ask what the hell she was doing. A knife, pointed at her boyfriend (ex) and her baby’s father? She lowered it, hand falling to her side.
“Okay. No stabbings today.” Todd’s shoulders dropped. “Unless you don’t pull your weight and find some food.”
Todd snarled. “What?”
“Until last night,
Todd,
we were partners—girlfriend and boyfriend, the parents of that little baby boy in the other room. But I’ve come to the realization that it’s no longer going to work.”
“Why?”
“
Fucking her,
” she pointed the knife at the blonde girl, not even sure which one he’d been with, “might have something to do with it.” Both Todd and the blonde girl looked down. “Added to your lazy-ass efforts around here since this thing happened. Okay, you went out to find food
once.
Eighty percent of what you brought back was alcohol. I’ve asked you repeatedly to do things. All you’ve managed to do is find these girls from upstairs and eat most of the food we
did
have for everyone else.” She shrugged. “We’re all sick of it.
I’m
sick of it. Either you start helping—by getting food, firstly—or you get out. That’s the deal.”
Todd considered this. He looked to the others for support, but nobody met his gaze. To Lauren, he said, “Or what, you’ll stab us all?”
“No, Todd. Just you. While you’re sleeping.”
It felt good saying that. She wouldn’t do it, but at that moment, he didn’t know if she was serious.
“Fine,” he said, gathering up his shirt. “We’ll go.”
“
I’m not going
,” Brunette snapped. Todd snarled.
“You need to go across the road to the market,” Lauren said. “They’ll have rice, flour, and staples—get as much of that as you can.” The idea that they might not return flashed through her mind, but if that’s what it came to, Lauren was prepared for it.
“What about the other places?” Todd asked. “Anywhere else we can go?”
“The 7-Eleven on the corner of Elizabeth Street and Franklin.”
She tried to think of something inspiring to say, to bridge the conflict, bring them back together as a group, but she was empty. Her mother or father would have found the right words. They had a knack of knowing what to say in the moment. Maybe it came to a person after they had kids.
They left soon after. Todd didn’t even look back.
THIRTEEN
Jacob climbed down from the seat at the edge of the wall and sat, watching Rebecca. It was a small room in the railway station building, connected to a larger waiting area via a door. Jacob had deemed the smaller section more prudent to their needs because it had steel gates on both sides and two access points. They might still find themselves trapped, but it was the best of a bad situation.
“Still there?”
He nodded. The zombies had amassed at the fence on the opposite side of the tracks. Jacob couldn’t believe they hadn’t worked out that if they wandered further along the railway line they’d find a crossing. He had not intended, when they climbed the fence, for the train station to become their place of safety, even for the night. On arrival, they had absolutely nothing besides the ax. No vehicle, food, or clothes. He had sat almost three hours, waiting for the feeders to break down the wire barrier and find them. They should have kept going, but Jacob had decided it was time to stop and think it out.
Later, under cover of darkness, and without any light to guide him, Jacob fumbled his way further up the line away from the gathering, and cut across the tracks. Rebecca lapsed into silence when he told her his plan. Jacob was reluctant to leave her, but he scouted the area to make sure it was clear, and left her with the ax. He made it through the shrubbery, and snuck across the road to a small, noiseless supermarket nestled amongst a row of other stores. He ended up hitting gold, including what he considered the most remarkable thing: a revolver. It even had five rounds. There was enough food to necessitate several trips. He went back and forth, hands full of plastic bags and kids’ backpacks into which canned goods, matches, batteries, and water were stuffed. There were various zombie activities during the supermarket runs, and Jacob decided to hang tight during the night and wait for the safety of daylight.
They still had the zombies beyond the wire fences to consider. Even if they managed to sneak past the barricades, there were too many of them in the town—they couldn’t win on foot. If he was alone, he might risk it, but Rebecca’s life was too valuable to put in such a situation
Silence had settled over them for a time, when Rebecca asked Jacob to talk about her mother. He did, finding himself falling easily into the recollection. As much as he had loved his second wife, Monica, Jennifer had been the love of his life. He had built his hopes and dreams around her. They traveled together, made plans for building their dream home, and Jennifer was planning a return to study. They laughed endlessly in the early days, before Jacob stripped away the joys of their lives with his absence. How he regretted it all these years past. Sometimes things didn’t work out as expected.
“Sounds like you loved her.”
“Oh, I do. I’ve never stopped.”
She did not ask any more after that, lapsing into another long silence. He’d thought the music discussion might have given him some credibility and lured her out of her shell. He wasn’t giving up though.
The small building grew hotter as the sun rose past its zenith. They drank the water without care, and picked at a tasty Italian oil tuna in a can, which they spread on crackers. The remaining supplies stayed in the backpacks and plastic bags in case they needed to leave in a hurry.
When Jacob checked through the high window of the building again, he found the fence had collapsed in one place.
“Shit.”
“What is it?”
“They’ve broken through. Get your backpack on. Grab the ax.”
Jacob ran to the front gate and pulled the bolt from the hole with a resistant screech. It appeared they were coming from the northern side, which meant they’d have to go south. But when he finally drew the gate open, the zombies were everywhere, covering all available exits. Jacob turned around to call for Rebecca, when she ran into him.
“You got a pack?” She nodded, holding up the ax in her right hand. The left contained multiple plastic bags chocked with supermarket items. “Good. Don’t move.” He raced back into the small room and scooped up a half-dozen plastic bags with one hand and two backpacks with his right, slinging them in a sloppy fit over his shoulder.
The gun. Get the gun.
There was a moment of terror when he was certain it wouldn’t be where he had stashed it. He was wrong though, and he dropped the chamber out, ensuring there were still five rounds.
Rebecca snuck back in behind the gate as feeders wandered about the railway yard. Jacob stood motionless on the platform as he tried to locate a visual pathway through the horde. Male and female zombies of every age and size stumbled over the tracks. Somehow, they hadn’t spotted them yet, but he knew it was coming. Their only advantage was the platform sitting four feet above the tracks. Jacob doubted any of them could climb up onto it, but if the zombies wandered further down the station, they would find a ramp by which they would eventually reach the pair. They had to move.
After careful examination, Jacob thought he had spied a way out. The feeders struggled walking over the railway line. Many had fallen, and most failed to negotiate the steel tracks with any proficiency.
“South,” Jacob said. “Straight down the center of the tracks. No stopping, okay?”
Rebecca nodded, her voice trembling. “Okay.”
Jacob leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You swing that ax if any get too close, alright? But don’t worry. I
will not
let anything happen to you.” She managed a faint smile. “Walk down the platform then we jump off the end.”
Rebecca led them, feet moving faster than Jacob had imagined, bags slapping against her legs. He was proud of her courage, thankful she was finally doing what he asked. Jacob hung back a step, watching the feeders. At first, they didn’t notice, wandering in circles and bumping into each other. He thought they might have caught a lucky break. But then a large woman wearing a flowery dress and a huge swell of breast spied Rebecca. She grunted, alerting others, and then they were stumbling after them, eyes locked on his daughter.
Rebecca hesitated. “Keep going,” Jacob said. She did, hurrying away from the edge of the platform. Jacob fought the urge to shoot the fat woman for blowing their cover, but she didn’t pose a threat yet and he refused to waste twenty percent of their ammo on her.
As they approached the end, Jacob took the lead, glancing back along the tracks. He had hoped they might have gained a head start, but the fat woman led a pack of a dozen or so, as though she had spied them first and they would be her kill. Jacob had to decide whether they should abandon the plan or make a run for it. If they returned to the train station building, the feeders would eventually find their way in. Of that, he was sure. But where would they run? How far down the tracks would they make it?
In the distance, Jacob saw the V/Line train they had passed the previous day. There was another machine beside it, along with a collection of items stacked to the side of the tracks. At worst, he supposed, they could climb up into the train and hide there.
Jacob took over the lead and slipped down off the platform, losing half the bags in the process. By the time he picked several up off the rocky tracks and slung a backpack over each shoulder, the lead zombie was almost upon them. “Quick.”
Rebecca hesitated, eyeing the oncoming threat. “No, I want to stay. It’s too dangerous.”
He didn’t think this was her being difficult, but terror at the prospect of being caught. “Now, Rebecca. Jump. I’ll catch you.”
She wasn’t going to do it. Jacob thought about shooting the closest feeders, but what happened after five rounds? He would be out of ammo, and whilst the ax might take a few more down, they’d be quickly overcome. Rebecca wasn’t going anywhere. He reached out and grabbed her hand, yanking her forward. She tumbled off the platform, cursing him.
She hit him in the stomach with her knee on her way down, knocking the wind from him. Gasping, Jacob wheeled, facing the fat woman who had closed the gap to ten feet. Beyond her, they were lining up like ticketholders at a Black Eyed Peas concert.
The gun.
Even then, he wouldn’t have it out in time. Rebecca was on one knee, fumbling with the bags. They had to go. Jacob took her hand and pulled, moving along the tracks. She cried out, dragging one leg over the sharp stones. This was not looking after her, keeping her safe, as he had promised. This was taking her to the edge, risking her life. She couldn’t find her feet. Jacob lifted, feeling the muscles in his left shoulder twinge, but she came off the ground, her shoes circling. When he lowered her, she found them, and then she was running beside him, crunching over the packed stones.
Jacob twisted around, expecting to find them on their heels, mouths open, poised to take chunks of flesh from their backs. But the gap was decent, at least ten, maybe fifteen yards, and the throng had thinned—no less numbers—but they were spread out further.
“Look out!” Rebecca shouted.
Only yards ahead, a man in slacks and a checked shirt waited. The skin of his wretched face was almost the color of his pale, wispy hair. Flesh hung in flaps from his bicep and forearms. Jacob knew instantly that other feeders had taken chunks from him, and he would take chunks from them. There was no time to pull out the gun or the ax; Jacob did all he could think to do. He smashed directly into the zombie like a rugby player, tucking his shoulder low to hit the thing directly in the chest. The lack of weight surprised him. The feeder fell back against the tracks with a crunch and they ran right over him.
“Keep going,” Jacob hissed. He was almost out of breath. His lungs burned, and a pain in the lower left section of his belly spoke of too much time sitting at his desk. But he would move until his heart stopped or his lungs collapsed. There was no other choice. Their one advantage was ground speed. They quickly moved away from the chasing horde, opening up a gap of fifteen yards. That was the break they were after.
They were still coming as they reached the V/Line train, but the distance had opened up and he now had time to make decisions. Other zombies flitted about on either side of the track in pursuit.
They staggered along the rocks and walked around the side of the train, heading towards the front. Some of the carriages were for freight, empty now, as though goods were to be loaded. Further on, other items had been assembled beside the tracks, and a picture of what had been going on formed in Jacob’s mind. The stuff was old, almost antique, but some of it had been cleaned up and painted. It was as though all the equipment was being sent somewhere for an exhibition, but the loading process had been abandoned halfway through. There was a small hand-powered railcar, a number of old railway signs, three signal boxes, part of a gate, and various other items that Jacob couldn’t identify. None of it helped them though. They walked further along the line, conscious that the feeders were now gaining on them.
They reached the end of the collection where a larger railway handcar sat on one set of tracks, and the V/Line driver carriage on the other. This is what they had spotted from the other side of the fence the day before. An idea struck Jacob. He had been planning on using the main train for safety, but the truth was, he couldn’t move it anywhere. If they stayed in the train, they’d be stuck there until the zombies decided they were of no value or someone came to rescue them. Either option might mean never.
He stood in the stones at the edge of the tracks, deep in thought, Rebecca beside him, glancing back at their oncoming attackers. “We have about thirty seconds,” she said. “And there’s more coming from the other side.”
Jacob thought he might have a way out. Whilst the wheels on the handcar possessed flecks of rust, the body and chassis had been repainted. It might work. How far did the tracks go? V/Line trains always linked to major cities so he assumed these tracks would lead to Melbourne. Sure, there might be other trains in the way at some point, but for now, they had a clear run. He couldn’t think of a better idea, and the thought of being stuck in the V/Line without going anywhere was claustrophobic.
“Up on this,” he said, stepping towards the handcar. He swung the bags onto the platform, the backpacks, and then the ax, keeping it at close hand in case.
“This?” Rebecca asked in disbelief. “Where are we going on this?”
“Out of here. Move. They’ll be here in a moment.” Jacob was confident now they were going to be okay, that he would keep Rebecca safe, as promised. He had lost all the others, but not her, his daughter, the last one.
He took the bags off Rebecca and helped her up onto the handcar. The feeders were close—he had to give them credit for their unwavering persistence. He supposed they would chase them all the way to Melbourne if nothing else of greater value appeared along the way. Jacob swung a leg up onto the platform and pushed himself on.
He had never used one before. A post stood in the center about thigh height. From it, a long bar sat horizontal with two handles on each end. Jacob supposed they could stand on either side and both pump—one down, the other up, and vice versa—but he believed one person could probably drive it. He shifted his position, trying not to knock any of their supplies off the edge; floor space was limited. He took the handle and pushed down about ten inches, feeling the resistance of time and inactivity. He pulled upwards, his arms straining, and the other side of the handlebar lifted. A rod connected underneath followed the bar upwards. Jacob trailed the connector rod down and saw it moving in a slow circle. At the base of the machine, a crank began to turn a large gear.