The next day dawned, and all three made it through the first night. The rays of the sun, which had not yet ascended from the horizon, illuminated the dark sky. Hayden sighed with relief as the relative safety of the morning had arrived. Fahad got out of his "sleeping bag" and chugged one of the water bottles the survivors had found.
"There's an airport nearby," Hayden said, turning to Fahad. "They've certainly got a few planes left."
"So we're going to leave the whole place," Fahad said, sealing his statement with a single nod. "I'm going to get water from the river. Don't put the flame out."
Jason had also gotten up from his bag, and wore his jacket.
"I hope we can find some spare clothes," he said. "The remains of one of the large malls here would definitely suffice." He noticed the carcasses of two, small, skinned animals lying on a rock beside the fire. "Huh? What's that supposed to be?" He asked, gesturing towards the animals.
"Breakfast." He heard Hayden say. "Normally it'd be illegal for us to shoot these guys even though they're all over the place, but I don't think we'll be getting arrested anytime soon." He took a large splinter of wood and ran it through the first body of the animal, handing it to Jason. "Hold it over the fire and turn it around every few seconds. After fifteen minutes it should be ready."
He got up while Jason practiced his culinary masterpiece and walked over to the river. Several jars filled with water lay at its bank. He then noticed Fahad staring into the palm of his hand. Hayden looked down to see a fish that ran from the tip of Fahad's ring finger to the base of his thumb. It glittered with a greenish-blue, decorated with several lavender-coloured scales. Its head was snubbed and round, and it had a reddish-orange tail.
"Purple-spotted gudgeon" Hayden said, without hesitation. "You'd rather want one in your aquarium than your frying pan. Fahad got down on one knee and lowered his hand into the water. With a flick of the tail, the fish darted into the murky water, rapidly disappearing into its depths. He stood up, shaking up the water off his hand.
"About the airport," he said. "Do you know which direction to head?" Hayden shrugged his shoulders.
"No idea," he replied.
"Alright," Fahad said "I know where the airport is, but I don't know where we are. Do you know where we are right now?"
"For sure." He replied to fahad, constructing a map of the ruined city in his thoughts. "We're in the southeast of the city, in what remains of the Murray Industrial Complex"
"Good," Fahad said. He stretched out his arm, pointing with his four fingers towards the direction perpendicular to where the sun was. "We're going to head north, and we should see the airport."
"Or what's left of it" said Jason, with the half-eaten possum on his makeshift skewer. "Here, your breakfast" he handed the other, slightly burnt animal to Fahad.
"And that's supposed to be?" Asked Fahad.
"Possum" Hayden answered. Fahad grasped the stick and knowing what it was, returned to the so-called fortress carrying his jars with him. Jason and Hayden followed him back and saw that he'd boiled the water before putting it back in the jars. Jason walked forwards and began to start another important conversation.
"We're going to see several hardships. Do any of you have experience using weapons? I've worked in a farm and been on a few hunting trips, I can use heavier weapons and shoot a gun well."
"I've been in Greece for a while, trying to solve that goofy conflict," Hayden said, clutching his rifle. They both looked over to Fahad expecting an answer. He chewed on the possum for about half a minute before swallowing his bite. Wiping the bicycle handlebar that sat between his nose and upper lip with a handkerchief, he cleared his throat.
"I've been to a few weddings," he finally answered.
Hayden was completely thrown off by this response and prepared to ask the same question, assuming some miscommunication had occurred.
"He's basically saying he knows how to use a sword," Explained Jason.
"What? How is that remotely related to weddings?" Asked Hayden.
"Things are different back where we live in the Middle East. Much, much different"
"I'll take your word for it," Hayden finally said.
Jason lifted a salvaged backpack, filled to the brim with food and clothes, and threw it over his shoulders.
"So where's this airport you're talking about?" He asked
"Already?" Fahad asked. "Give is a moment. The water hasn't even cooled down."
"Hey, it's best to be ready even if we have lots of time left," Jason. "Just yesterday the whole world exploded. How will we know what happens next?"
Fahad got onto his feet, feeling that Jason was right. He looked at his backpack, lying empty.
"Pack what you've found," demanded Jason. "We'll be ready by the time the sun is halfway between its rising point and midday." Fahad raised his thumb, nodding once.
Are we fortunate that we weren't of those who perished in this catastrophe?
Or are we the wretched souls who have to watch this disaster unfold before our eyes, cursed to live through it all?
Are we blessed to have survived, or are we cursed to have to endure?
The survivors were so preoccupied with planning and trying to survive in the midst of this disaster that the questions that haunted their thoughts were never addressed, a desire for an answer that will never be found. Fahad had finally gathered everything he had needed to enact the plan, and with what seemed like an hour before the time proposed by Jason left, he headed out to put out the flame. He took his sleeping bag and threw it on top of the campfire, smothering the raging fire. Fahad stood on top of the torn mattress and pressed his boots into it as hard as he could. The flame resisted being strangled, but within seconds it had succumbed, vanishing as it left behind a large puff of smoke that existed the small gaps between the rags.
The January summer sky made itself known to all who was left. Not a single cloud lay in sight, and the heat falling onto the barren landscape created potential for a new enemy. The sun began to burn into the wilted bushes that dotted the unforgiving wasteland that stood between the ruins and the outback. The mounting number of challenges faced meant they had to keep moving.
He gripped his backpack which lied on the floor beneath it, and threw his arms between its straps. He felt it pull against him due to the sheer mass of what he had thrown in it. The splashing of sterilised water in the dozen jars that sat inside was very much audible. He took several cautious steps towards Jason, confirming his readiness. Hayden returned, with a bag around his waist, loaded with rounds.
"We head there," Fahad commanded, pointing towards the North. They began their March, leaving the borders of the fallen settlement in hopes of reaching the airport. The fortress had served its cause, and now the survivors must keep moving. They didn't know what they were doing, they didn't know why they were doing it, but all three knew something.
They had to do it.
