The Desolate

I managed to stay awake the whole night despite my own creeping exhaustion, I’d barely slept in days, but my mind was working overtime trying to understand this young woman that was quickly become a priority in my life. My plans suddenly felt uneasy, and uncertain, like they needed to be reconsidered to accommodate her place in them. I didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing, but I no longer felt peace at the thought of my own death knowing Ashe would be alone out here. She was not just a welcome distraction or fascination to my life, but a welcome addition, even if there were significant risks involved, there was purpose and drive to keep going. And perhaps for the first time in my life—I worried and planned, and perhaps worst of all, I allowed myself to hope. For the first time in my life, I feared the loneliness I’d become so accustomed to and the sense of loss and pain that would inevitably come should I fail this girl. Growing attached was dangerous thinking in the first place, and it created a sense of anxiety that was hard to push aside for rational deliberation. Cold calculation and rationalisation now competed in my mind with that sense of warmth and feeling for which, I felt wholly unworthy. As daylight approached, it took a great deal of effort to redirect my thoughts towards more practical plans and ideas, and thoughts of my own death made way for a desire for long-term survival—for both of us.

I was up and outside taking a piss well before dawn just a few metres away from the room we had stopped in when I noted a monster storm heading north off the southern coast. It was making its way upriver, bringing with it a torrent of rain and lightning that would soon be right on top of us. It was going to get nasty, and the sense of danger flooded my mind. The endless procession of lightning outlining the thick dark clouds brought with it a sense of dread and fear, emotions that felt so unfamiliar to me.

Normally I enjoyed a good storm, provided I had shelter from which to view the lightning. But in my experience, zombies also felt the same way. They seemed to hold onto the same instinct, and almost always sought shelter in bad weather, which itself indicated that perhaps they had not completely lost the capacity to reason. But the fact that they would soon be looking for shelter meant danger if we stayed put. And because of this behaviour, storms also presented an opportunity for travel, not only did zombies tend to seek shelter, but the rain also messed with their sense of smell and hearing which became heavily distorted by a combination of dust and moisture that storms tended to produce. I finished my business before heading back inside with a sense of urgency, shaking Ashe awake. “Come on, we have to get moving, quickly.” My tone was gentle, trying unsuccessfully not to scare her.

She didn’t hesitate though, sitting up almost as quickly as I had stirred her awake. She was still a little dazed from sleep, as she climbed out of bed, asking, “What’s wrong?”

I held my hand up to calm her down, explaining, “Everything is okay, but there is a nasty-looking storm coming, and I don’t want to be trapped indoors.”

She just stared at me blankly for a moment then said, “That made absolutely no sense, Jack! Why would we want to be out in a storm?”

I smiled, realising that my words probably sounded a little confused to someone less familiar with the habits of zombies. So, I quickly explained to her my reasoning, adding, “We may need to pass through the ruins of the nearby town to cross the river, though it depends on the condition of the old train line and if the bridge is still there, and this is a great opportunity to do so without getting ourselves caught up in a herd of zombies since most of them will be disoriented and seeking shelter.”

She shivered at the thought, replying with a sigh, “I figured there was logic in there somewhere, even if I don’t like where it leads. Remember, Jack, treat me like I know nothing about zombies.” She shrugged, adding, “Because honestly, I don’t know much beyond what other people have said, and let’s face it, most people out there are just full of shit when it comes to their ‘survival stories’.”

I laughed a little and smiled reassuringly, “I’m Sorry, I’m still getting used to verbally justifying my logic. I have spent far too much time alone over the years, so stop me if I say something needs clarification or it doesn’t make sense to you. I’m not perfect either, and I will make mistakes. But I’m perfectly willing to learn and hear any ideas and suggestions you might have as well.”

“Damn straight, I will!” she teased as she climbed out of bed, getting rid of the towel she had slept in before taking another small bath towel and wrapping it around herself and pulling her pants back on. I made a point of looking away to give her privacy, but she seemed to be getting more comfortable with my presence. She then gathered her rifle before throwing the backpack over her shoulders. “Fuck, I really need to piss before we go anywhere though.” She stopped by the door, adding, “Can you grab some extra clean towels as well!”

“Why?”

She just rolled her eyes. “Figured you wouldn’t understand,” she teased, adding with a smirk, “Somehow I think women are as alien to you as zombies are to me!”

I laughed at her joke, holding a hand up. “Okay, Okay!”

“The bath towels aren’t great, but they will do, unfortunately.”

“Alight, I’ll grab a few of them, we can get them cleaned off in the rain. Worst case scenario, there is a river a few kilometres down the highway, and I have some leftover whisky that should help.”

She glared. “You will not put booze anywhere near there, Jack!”

I shrugged, “I meant to sterilise the towels. But if it’s a choice between that or a nasty infection…”

“I’ll take the infection, thank you.” The smirk still on her face from our moment of banter before heading into the bathroom, finding several small towels folded under the sink. I took a handful threw them over my shoulder and headed back outside to find Ashe.

“Let’s go,” I said as she moved out ahead of me heading around behind the building to do her business while I waited, rifle at the ready and watching for movement. Ashe returned a moment later with a concerned look on her face. “What is it?” I asked.

“Company, a few hundred metres back. It looks like the same truck from the lake that got away!”

“Fuck!” I hissed, rushing to see.

“There doesn’t seem to be anyone in it either,” she added.

I looked around once more with a greater sense of urgency. “They probably have an ambushed set up nearby. Get back inside, we can use the zombies for cover when they move in,” I backed towards the door my eyes scanning the area with purpose.

Ashe nodded and followed close behind. She quickly checked her rifle, pulling out the magazine and making sure the rounds were set properly before putting it back into the weapon and setting it up by the front window waiting for any sign of movement.

Moments later, a crack of lightning struck a tree close by, the flash and the sound less than a second apart as a few drops of rain began to fall. “This can’t be good,” she whispered as another flash and crack of lightning lit up the sky outside.

I kept an eye focused out of the window, reiterating my earlier point, “The storm could work in our favour, depending on the number of zombies around here they could act as cover for us.” And it didn’t take long for the first signs of movement to emerge from the bushland that spread far beyond the rear of the old motel. Zombies began filtering into the motel as the rain gradually became heavier. More than a dozen of the creatures soon filtered in from the surrounding bushland and settled under the sheltered areas of the motel, one even sat down on the ground as if resting itself. Some moved in just metres from the room, making Ashe uneasy. I held a finger to my lips and whispered, “Stay calm and stay quiet!”

She nodded once in acknowledgement, the fear evident on her face as we waited. A few minutes later, the sound of a gunshot rang out, followed by several more nearby, giving away the position of our pursuers. Their ambush had been ruined by migrating zombies that had likely stumbled on them, and now, they had a more immediate problem to deal with. The sound drew the gathering crowd of zombies towards them and away from the sheltered areas. And as the zombies shuffled away quickly towards the source of the shooting; yet more gunshots rang out. They might be half-competent slavers, but they clearly had very little experience with these creatures as the herd of zombies began to swarm. The second the zombies were clear of the door, I signalled Ashe to follow me, moving quickly and quietly out of the room and out into the central courtyard. One straggler spotted us and redirected its motion towards us, causing Ashe to shriek slightly as she moved behind me. “Keep your shooting in check, do not fire unless you absolutely have to,” I said firmly as I unsheathed my knife and slid the blade up under the base of its skull causing its body to instantly go limp and fall to the ground.

Quickly retrieving my knife, I whispered, “Come on!” Moving quickly towards the cover of the trees and the nearby bushland. Making a break for the overgrown foliage and crouching down once we were out of sight. Several more cracks of lightning sounded as panicked automatic gunfire hinted at the urgency of their situation. They were overrun, and a moment later an agonising scream roared out over the sound of the rain and moans and shuffling of the herd. And at least one of them was recruited into the zombie herd.

We laid low and I silently hoped that the rain would help mask the scent of Ashe. The slightly metallic smell hitting my nose mildly when nearby meant the zombies would pick it up from at least several metres away. But I didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was. I didn’t have a direct line of sight on our pursuers but disabling their truck would be enough to give us plenty of time to escape, so I lined up a single shot and fired through the engine block.

If nothing else, it would slow them down while they made repairs. “Let’s go,” I whispered to Ashe, guiding us parallel the highway, using the trees and foliage for cover as we followed the road southeast for several kilometres. It seemed a few more days off her feet had helped Ashe—she easily kept up, though her eyes were still skittish, jumping at the sight of every zombie. It was something to work on, especially if she was going to stay with me for any length of time. But we had time, and that thought alone reignited those images that had haunted my mind through the night. When we reached the outskirts of the ruined port city that clung to the mouth of the river, we stopped on the side of the road to have a drink, still using the cover of the trees to stay out of sight.

We were still several hundred kilometres from the ruins of Adelaide, so I doubted we would find too many large herds around here, but zombies still seemed active where we were. After a moment of scouting the ruins and taking in a little water, we got moving again. After another hour or so of walking and avoiding detection from zombies, we reached a set of train tracks that had not been used in decades. The metal was rusted, and beginning to bow from years of neglect, but the tracks meant we were close to the bridge that trains once used to cross the river. We had to find a way across anyway, and I just hoped the bridge was still there. After all, it was much safer attempting a crossing there than on one of the handful of bridges that may or may not be intact in the nearby ruins.

We made our way along the tracks, my eyes on alert as I manoeuvred us to make sure Ashe was as far away from the noise of the nearest Zombie as possible. Though most of them barely seemed to notice us at a distance. They had probably forgotten what living people looked like for the most part, at least when they weren’t panicked or screaming, and with their inability to smell us thanks to the rain and humidity they mostly ignored us. But with the rain slowing our sweat would soon give us away. I led us towards the edge of a large river that would almost certainly be about to burst its banks from the sudden rapid rainfall that had just passed overhead. “We can avoid the town if we cross the railway lines up ahead, come on! Assuming the bridge is still here,” I added.

We travelled on for another thirty minutes or so along the river as the storm had drifted inland, clearing almost completely by the time we made our final approach to the bridge. As the edge of a large river came into view, its banks were spilling onto the highway just south of us, likely inundating much of the large town to the south. We were in luck though, the steel beams had become heavily rusted over the years without maintenance, but the bridge still seemed sturdy enough and very much intact.

The river below was quite salty based on the smell, which only added to the risk of collapse at some point in the future, but it wouldn’t be today. The lakes that fed it to the north and the ocean to the south meant that the water was probably useless to us for drinking as well, though the downfall of rain had certainly refreshed us both as we walked. We both hesitated instinctively as we neared the edge of the bridge. The river had become a raging torrent from the heavy rain, and the uneasiness had become almost paralysing for Ashe, “Jack?” She whispered anxiously, implicitly questioning the decision I had made.

“It’s this or hundreds of zombies through the ruins,” I said honestly, pushing my own fears down at the same time.

She nodded, and said, “I get it, I just don’t like it,” before taking in a deep breath and moving forward once again, “Okay, let’s do it!”

We made our way across the bridge relatively easily though I had to reinforce the idea of not looking down to Ashe, who had almost frozen in place several times as we crossed over the raging torrent. But once we reached the other side, the relief was immediate though short-lived as we spotted several Zombies crawling up along the riverbank through the mud. No doubt they had been swept upstream by the storm much the same as the ones that were often swept inland to Lake Eyre. Ashe moved to the edge of the bridge as if preparing to line them up with her rifle. “Don’t shoot,” I whispered, explaining, “We have no cover here, and there is no telling how many will hear the shot.”

She nodded, standing back up and staying close to me as we continued along the tracks for several more kilometres paralleling the river just a few hundred metres from the shore until the tracks expanded. Several move rail lines opened into what was once a coal distribution centre.

The storm had entirely dissipated by that point, and clouds disappeared as rapidly as the storm had hit. And it wasn’t long before the sun began burning brightly in the mid-morning sky. As it did, the heat combined with the moisture from the rain caused the humidity to spike dramatically in a very short period as steam began rising from the land. The almost tropical heat was an alien feeling to both of us, but Ashe who had grown up purely in the dry heat of the desert it could be deadly. She didn’t seem to be coping well with it at all, her body was simply not used to it. Her skin perspired heavily as moisture oozed through her shirt and pants. It was very different from the dry heat of the desert that she was used to, and her body would need time to adjust which we simply did not have right now. But if we didn’t find somewhere to stop soon though, she would dehydrate quickly, and once again I would be back to carrying her on my back.

I led us away from the tracks towards an old industrial area hoping to find somewhere secure to stop and take shelter, at least until late afternoon when the heat and humidity dissipated. The only viable option that came into view was a small reception building on the south side of an old factory that had long ago collapsed in on itself. “Let’s take a break here for a while and rest,” I insisted.

Ashe did not reply in words, she simply followed close behind struggling on.

Most of the building had long decayed into ruins, it had collapsed in on itself long ago, crushing anything that might be useful under the tremendous weight of its concrete walls. However, the small office building near the front of the complex was mostly intact. The brickwork seemed to be cracking from years of neglect and it certainly was not helped by the increased intensity and frequency of the summer storms passing through this region regularly. The windows that had once allowed a receptionist or office worker a good view of the river had been smashed long ago. The humid air kept the temperature in the building very warm, though significantly better than standing in the sun. Ashe sat down on the exposed concrete floor and she gulped down a little more water while also careful to conserve the last of our reserves. I watched for any signs of movement in the surrounding area while she rested. I reached into the bag and pulled out a small jar full of vegetables preserved in brine, consuming a few small pieces of carrot before handing some to her.

Ashe scrunched her face at the first bite, but she managed to keep it down. “Fuck that tastes horrible,” she said in a hushed tone.

I laughed under my breath, “Yeah, they are disgusting, but the salt will help keep you hydrated,” I explained as I bit into a piece of pickled zucchini.

She shook her head before taking a small, pickled onion, “Not much better!” She said before taking another sip of water. “Shouldn’t we get moving again soon?”

I nodded. “When the heat dies back a bit, give the salt a chance to work its magic. It’ll thicken your blood and help to keep you remain hydrated for longer.” I gently reached out and put my hand on hers to reassure her that I was not going to leave her, before standing up again to keep watch. A few zombies moved slowly along the shore of the river, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. I ducked out of sight to make sure that they remained so, kneeling up moments later and watching them as they continued on their northern route following the still-overflowing river.

I gave Ashe several more hours to rest and recover, and once the heat began to subside and the humidity relented, I gathered our belongings, and we got moving once again. This time, she appeared in much better shape as we headed east away from the river and the ruins. The outskirts of the city were still in sight, which kept me on edge for any signs of another herd as we passed through an old aboriginal settlement that had been abandoned long ago. As we walked, I said to Ashe, “The artwork is distinctive, but those people had left the rest of us for their traditional lands in the deep desert many years before we followed them. There was so much land out there that by the time those who followed Malcolm Bishop encountered them, both were far too well-established to risk a fight. But they were united by a shared hatred of the northern tribes, who were themselves very different again. Made of humans that had been unfortunate enough to find themselves living on the edge of the radiation belt that now circled the entire planet, permanently changed by its effects, and by their only source of food in those environments.”

“People?” She asked.

I gave her a small nod as we continued on through the ruined settlement.

As the afternoon wore on, we headed deeper into the arid bushland dotted with sporadically placed acacia trees and small shrubs of various kinds. A few birds offered a welcome sight, and the shade of the trees provided periodic relief from the sun as we moved through an endless procession of plains and bushland. Visibility was limited because of the foliage and the flat land, and we had not passed a single structure in hours as the sun began to approach the horizon. Eventually, we came across another old highway heading northeast towards the mountain range to the east. Continued for several more hours as daylight slowly transitioned to fading twilight.

We continued along the road well after the sun had set. Even though it had been a while since we last encountered any zombies, being exposed and sleeping under the stars in these regions did not seem like a wise idea. As we approached the foothills of the mountains, a small creek bed intersected the roadway to the north, snaking its way through the assorted shrubs and acacia that dominated the region. The water had undoubtedly flowed off the Finders Ranges and was likely clean, providing a good opportunity to top up our water supplies. It would still need to be filtered, but if we got desperate, we would likely get away with drinking it as is.

The road led us east as night settled on the landscape with only the soft glow of the moon offering any light at all. We had to find somewhere to stop soon, as we were now out of drinkable water unless we were going to take the risk, and our food reserves were not in much better shape either. We were around ten kilometres from the edge of the mountain range when we came across a dirt road intersecting the highway from the south. And it seemed we might be lucky once again as we turned and followed it. There were a few farmhouses several kilometres south of the old highway, with at least one appearing to be mostly intact, offering us potential shelter for the night. “Over there!” I said, gesturing towards the two-story house in the distance which had been lit up in the moonlight.

The sun was long gone by the time we reached the house, and a cool breeze swept across the plains as if washing away the intense humidity of the day. The first house we passed was an old weatherboard home that was probably beautiful in its time, but the wood had long decayed, and the back end of the house had collapsed under the weight of its roof. The second was held up by thick sandstone walls and seemed relatively well preserved with most of its windows still intact. The land had already become distinctly greener just a few short kilometres south of the highway. As we approached the house, Ashe and I searched for any signs that it might be occupied by humans or zombies. Structurally, it appeared in great condition considering it had likely been untouched for more than twenty-five years. Finding nothing except for some minor cracking in parts of the sandstone, and a few smashed windows, it looked like a good place to stop.