The Tasmania Trilogy (Book 1): Breakdown Read online

  “I’m sick of looking at these fuckers.” Smitty let go of the curtain and headed towards the kitchen. Mac followed.

  Lying on his back in the center of the rug was Dave-O. His eyes were closed, his skin pale and washed out. There were dark wounds across his chest and neck, blood splashes over his body. Mac had avoided Dave-O since his arrival. Now, as he stood there looking at the bloated features of Dave-O’s face and neck, the realization hit Mac hard, tightening the steel around his gut.

  “It’s not fucking right,” Smitty said, sliding out one of the kitchen chairs. He sat, elbows on knees, face in his hands. No, it isn’t, Mac thought. Smitty leant back and rubbed at the deep creases on his forehead with a shaking hand. “Had to stab him a few times. He wouldn’t die, Mac. He kept coming. Jesus …” Mac put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Smitty’s eyes were glassy. “I thought he was gonna get me. Thought I’d end up like him.”

  Smitty had struggled on his return from Afghanistan. He’d only done the one tour—the doctors had never cleared him again for active duty. Most of the time, he would laugh and joke around like any of the other veterans of the unit, but there was that expectation, the waiting for him to crack. Like now. Mac knew it. Dave-O had known, and Dutch too. But they didn’t judge him for it. He had never slowed his step in battle. They would forever have his back.

  Mac crouched beside him. “Listen, mate, you did what you had to do. I can guarantee you if Dave-O had been on the other end, he’d have done the same.” He clamped a hand down on Smitty’s shoulder.

  Smitty gave a slight nod. “Yeah, maybe. After Leigh Ann died, he just kind of went downhill at a rapid rate.”

  “What about Dutch?”

  “He left this morning. I haven’t heard from him since.”

  Dutch had a wife and four kids. He’d been busy making babies since returning from his second tour. Mac was surprised Dutch had left them in the first place. It was a long drive back to Hobart.

  “What about the bodies?” Smitty asked. “I dug a grave for them, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  “I don’t think it’s sensible to go back outside now, mate. Those things are all around the joint.” Mac eyed the problem momentarily. “Maybe we can try something else.”

  They tied Dave-O’s and Leigh Ann’s hands and feet and wrapped them in sheets, clamping the ends with electrical tape. Mac wondered how the police would view this if the world ever returned to normal and they had to explain themselves.

  “What now?” Smitty asked.

  “We sit and wait,” Mac said. “In case those bastards wander off at any point, we make a break for it.”

  So they did, in the lounge room, with their backs to the wall and their legs stretched out. Mac tried calling his mother to let her know what had happened, but the phones still weren’t working. Eventually, he drifted. He thought of Jessica and the kids. He felt guilty not getting back to his mother’s house. What if they were in the same circumstances? But his mother was a sensible woman. She wouldn’t go outside if the infected were in the streets. Best to just wait and maximize his chances of staying alive. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about them all. It gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  He ended up falling asleep. He dreamed the infected were chasing him, and he was chasing a car with Jessica and the children in it. Every time he drew close, they would turn a corner and speed off. He would draw close again, and the same thing would repeat. No matter how fast he ran he’d never catch them.

  Mac woke suddenly. The heat pressed against his skin, and his mouth was dry. He checked on Smitty, who was curled up on the carpet, his head resting on his hands. Mac pulled out his phone. It was almost oh-six-hundred. Jesus, they had slept that long?

  “Smitty,” Mac said, shaking his friend awake. Smitty snapped out of sleep and sat up, eyes darting about the room. “Easy mate.”

  Mac stood and walked to the window. He peeled aside the curtains and the soft orange light of dawn appeared, promising another hot day. Mac had expected the infected to be milling about the front yard, but it was clear, and there were only a couple in the driveway.

  “Time to go,” Mac said, turning away from the window.

  “It’s clear?”

  “I can’t see any. We might not have long.”

  Smitty stood and followed Mac into the kitchen. “I remembered something just as I was falling asleep. Didn’t Dave-O bring in an M4 from the US?”

  Mac stopped and thought about it. “Yeah. He might have. Now that you mention it, he did say something about it.”

  They searched the cupboards in each of the bedrooms, Mac conscious of their window of opportunity. The longer they took, the more risk of the infected returning and ruining their chance of escape. Both the study and bedroom cupboards were all empty.

  Smitty suggested the garage. They checked a pair of slated, teak cupboards and a thick, white floating shelf set high on the wall, without much luck. “Up there,” Smitty said, pointing to a manhole in the roof.

  Mac unhooked a step ladder from the wall and climbed up into the roof through the manhole. Dave-O had used MDF board on the joists to create a floor strong enough to store all sorts of boxes. There, sitting way back in the corner beside a thick slab of insulation bats and a pile of Christmas decorations was a long gun case.

  Mac knew exactly what was inside. He passed the boxes down to Smitty, then stepped down the ladder and leapt to the concrete floor. They squatted and opened it beside the Commodore. It was a brand new M4 with a box of thirty rounds.

  “Thirty?” Smitty said.

  “We’ve had less and done serious damage. Make ‘em count.”

  Smitty smiled for the first time since the catch-up at Dave-O’s. He reached down and removed the weapon. It sat in his hands with a certain comfort and ease. Mac had watched him chew through a Taliban raiding party more than once with a gun like that. It gave Mac a little more confidence, knowing with a gun in his hands, Smitty was solid.

  They had one final thing to do before leaving. From the pantry, they took a case of bottled water and a mixed box of food supplies. Mac felt a pang of guilt for taking it all but knew Dave-O and Leigh Ann would want them to use it.

  “Let’s roll.”

  Mac checked the street through the wire mesh front door and found several infected lingering around the little red Suzuki. “Sorry, Juliet, but I won’t be able to return your car.” He only hoped that someday he had the chance to repay her.

  “Lucky we’ve got Dave-O’s Commodore,” Smitty said.

  Mac nodded. “He’d be smiling, wherever he is.”

  It was more suited to their task now, with a more spacious trunk and roomier seating in the back. In the garage, Smitty took two torches, some rope, candles, and a big fishing knife from a pegboard shelf along the wall. They filled Smitty’s pack and placed it in the foot well of the front passenger’s seat.

  Packed up and settled in the car, Mac sat holding the remote control to the garage door, wondering how they’d go once it opened.

  “Only squeeze off if you need to, mate. Who knows when or where we can get a resup,” he said, nodding at the M4 lying on Smitty’s lap.

  Smitty smiled. “Not my first ride, Mac.”

  Mac grinned. “Yeah, all right.”

  Mac turned the engine on and pressed the button for the door. The car’s engine rumbled into life, threatening to unleash its power as he gripped the wheel. He put the gearstick into first and eased up on the clutch while gently touching the accelerator. They rolled out of the garage and into the driveway, ready for anything.

  19

  Kumiko turned onto her side for the fifty-eighth time. She hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep yet. Jim had made her a makeshift bed on the shorter sofa in the staff room with a blanket and pillow from the first aid room, but there were too many things running through her mind—too many what ifs for her to settle.

  She pulled the blanket back, sat up, and swung her legs around off the couch.
Dan was on the other sofa on the opposite side of the room—she didn’t want to wake him. There was a chair on the decking outside the staffroom doors. She slid the glass open and hurried over to it. The air was warm, almost stuffy. She sat on the soft cushion and regarded the silhouettes and shadows of the night.

  Where had it all gone wrong? She wondered when, the point in time, where this virus had become strong enough to turn people into monsters. Maybe Dan would know. The idea still made her feel strange. It was a sickness. A horrible sickness.

  The door slid open. She jumped and turned to find Dan slipping through the gap.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he whispered, landing on a seat next to her.

  “Couldn’t sleep. You?”

  He hesitated. “Yeah, something like that.”

  They sat in silence for a long moment, the darkness of the football field and the shadowy blue sky above barely distinguishable. It was peaceful, despite the knowledge of what lay beyond the school. They had secured the perimeter, but who knew for how long? Kumiko felt a deep concern that it was only a matter of time before the infected got inside again.

  “I’m scared, Dan.”

  “You don’t look scared.” He chuckled. Kumiko glanced away. “Sorry.”

  “I hide it well.” She folded her legs up under herself so they were crossed. “What if this thing goes on forever?”

  “I don’t think it will. But if it does, we’ll adapt. Humans are good at that.”

  “We are, aren’t we? You don’t think the government will get things under control soon? You’re the expert. How does it normally go in these scenarios?”

  Dan blew out air. “Based on the evidence so far, I don’t think the government is doing much to get this thing under control. Everything depends on a vaccine. If the government can’t get that happening soon, people will go on getting sick and dying.”

  “But we don’t really know what’s going on in other places. They might be cleaning the place up as we speak.”

  “Where are the news bulletins then? The military sent in with the clean-up crews? Governments never overestimate the effects of these sorts of pandemics. They underestimate. They’re never prepared. They think they have everything under control. I don’t think they ever had it. But in fairness, who could predict this? How do you plan for it?”

  “Do you think my parents are dead?”

  Dan was silent for a long moment. “Maybe. I think a lot of people have died and more will certainly die. I know that when I get into my grandmother’s house, she’ll probably be dead too.” He let the thought drift. “What do you think about your parents?”

  It was Kumiko’s turn to consider. “I want to think they’re okay, that the hospital is still a safe place, but too much bad stuff has happened. It seems a long shot they might still be alive.” She turned to him. “Is that bad?”

  “No. No. I’d say it’s realistic.”

  They were silent for a time. A tender breeze touched the leaves of the two or three big gums surrounding the office building. Kumiko felt a gentle calmness around Dan, no pressure to talk for the sake of it, or even worry about saying the right thing. He expected nothing of her, and she knew from his constant glances, that he was grateful for her company. After a time, Dan adjusted his sitting position in the chair and said, “What did you want to do with your life?”

  She chuckled. “Wow. That’s a deeper question.”

  He waved it off. “Sorry. Doesn’t matter—”

  “No, it’s all right.” She fiddled with the bottom of her T-shirt. “I had all these plans. A university degree.”

  “In what?”

  “Marketing.”

  “Like advertising and stuff.” She nodded. “And after that?”

  “A job. Nothing special. Just a place I can contribute.” Dan made a noise and she sensed he was smiling.

  “What about marriage? Did you have any plans for that?”

  She fell silent momentarily, thinking about her ex-boyfriend and the disaster that had ended up being. She’d thought Brad was the man for her, the one to stand at her side on her wedding day, but the relationship had capitulated and she still didn’t know why. She had analyzed her behavior from every angle. Was he bored with her? Not adventurous enough? Her affections could be cold at—

  “Kumiko?”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry.” She smiled. “Just thinking.”

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer it.”

  “No, it’s fine. I did have plans to marry. I thought I had the right guy, but apparently, he didn’t have the right girl. He found someone else and left me for her.” The last words were bitter and resentful.

  “Fool,” Dan said, and she noticed a stiffness in his voice. “He must be a stupid, stupid man to have done that.”

  “I was the one that felt stupid in the end. We’d talked about kids. Even had names picked out.” She didn’t know if she’d ever told anyone that. “Sometimes I think I lost my chance, that now it won’t ever happen.”

  “Nah, no way. Don’t give up. I truly believe there is more than one person out there for each of us. The idea of one soulmate is pretty silly to me.”

  “Maybe. I hope you’re right. Or maybe I’ll just forget about guys for a while. Generally, they only cause me trouble. Mom says I’m better off without them for now, until they grow up a bit.”

  Dan scoffed. “We never grow up.” They both laughed.

  “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, if that’s your thing?”

  “Girlfriend,” he said quickly. “And no, not at the moment.”

  “And what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

  “In the military. I wanted to be in the army. But I’m not brave enough for that. I’ve never really been brave. I always run rather than fight.”

  Kumiko sat forward. “How can you say that? After what I’ve seen today?”

  Dan shrugged. A noise sounded from the darkness. They both froze, peering out beyond the building. It sounded again, a noise like scraping metal.

  “Maybe we should head inside,” Kumiko said.

  Dan hesitated then stood up and went to the edge of the decking. After a few moments, he came back and said, “You’re probably right.” Kumiko detected a hint of disappointment in his tone. “I’m starting to get sleepy again, anyway.”

  ∞

  Bright light. Kumiko opened her eyes in a slow, sleepy revelation. She rubbed them, rolled over and fell off the narrow sofa and onto the carpeted floor with a thump. She lay there for a moment, pressing her eyes shut, feeling the ache and pain of a day she wished to forget. The world was ending and she’d met up with a zombie geek who had probably saved her life more than once. When she opened them again, one thing was clear; life as she had known it—as everyone had known it—was changed forever. It was another failure in the broader plan of her existence. Had she not moved to Tasmania, had she not broken up with Brad, if her parents hadn’t come over to keep her company … she let the thoughts drift, annoyed at the world.

  She stood, picked up the blanket and seat cushion and placed them back on the sofa. It wasn’t her apartment, but she had been so exhausted the night before, that after the chat with Dan, her sleep had been unbroken. Dan was an interesting guy, the kind of person who totally underestimated themselves. Unlike Brad, who had been full of confidence and cared little about others, Dan genuinely cared about people. If she had to be stuck with anybody in this, Kumiko was glad it was him.

  Dan was hidden under his blanket on the other sofa, one bare white leg poking out. There was no sign of Jim, the man who’d let them into the school. She crossed the staff room to the glass doors that led out to the decking, the small parking lot, and the football field. It was a clear morning, bright and mild. In the distance across the road beyond the fences, twisted gums and stout shrubs snarled their way up the slope to denser bushland. Had it been any other occasion, she might have been able to find a hint of appreciation in the beautiful surroundings.<
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  Her gut twisted as she thought about her parents. Had her mother’s sickness gotten worse? Was the hospital overrun with infected people? There had been so many of them milling around outside, it was hard to believe they wouldn’t have found a way in. She didn’t know if she should ask Dan to drive her back, or just wait it out until the government or the military cleaned the place up. The idea that all those people were effectively dead seemed horrific, but she was beginning to accept it. They were still out there, wandering along the road and standing at the fence on the other side of the football field. It was as if they knew there were uninfected people inside the school. Their sickness was easy to identify, even from a distance … the clumsy walk and the way their hands hung lifelessly at their sides.

  She turned away, intent on finding Jim, and crossed the staff room before entering a hallway that ran through the administration office. She found him coming her way, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. It was the first time she’d seen him in the light. He had cropped black hair flecked with grey, and a stern authoritative face.

  “Good morning,” Kumiko said, smiling.

  Jim returned the greeting. “How did you sleep?”

  Kumiko made a sign with her hand, indicating it had been average.

  Jim led her into the staff room, where Dan was sitting on the edge of the couch stretching. His arms were thick and pale. “Morning,” Jim said. Dan yawned. “We’ve got a problem. The power’s out and there are three deep freezers in the canteen. If we don’t get power to them soon, all the food will defrost.”