Bloodshed (Book One in the Apocalypse Trilogy)

Chapter 13: Optimism

Location: Desert/Newcastle Waters

Cal

What an eventful day. His best mate the virus’s creator’s bodyguard, a prototype cure for the virus, and a near-fatal pot rage.

The sun was setting when they had emerged from the lab. With the Crater too far to reach in time, they had slept under the helicopter pad, the only part of the station that hadn’t sunk into the ground.

From the safety of their cramped shelter, they saw the zombies begin to dig out of the ground. The question as to where the zombies in the desert went during the day was answered: they dug into the ground. This led Cal to wonder if there was more underground than just dirt.

When the sun finally rose, they witnessed the zombies dig down again.

They crawled out from the landing pad and looked around. In the distance was the Crater, nothing more than a shimmering line on the horizon. In every other direction was desert. When they had agreed which way Darwin was, they turned their backs on the wreckage of the station, and began the long walk to their destination.

Johnny had burned his joints, and sworn to never light one again. He hid it well, but they could tell that it was hurting him to not smoke. After six years, it was a new thing for Johnny to be clean.

Jake had had the foresight to pack some food from the supply shed, and for a few days they wouldn’t be hungry. It was water that was the issue. Now that the Crater was gone, they had no source of water, and there were no known lakes in the desert, at least not on the map. The only thing between them and Darwin was a small town: Newcastle Waters.

It was dark when they arrived. The town was in worse shape than Mildura, with only a few buildings in the middle remaining. They stopped to rest on the roof of house, where they hoped the zombies wouldn’t smell or see them.

***

Cal woke, the hot sun already beating down on them. His mouth was like sandpaper. The others were still asleep, so Cal decided to look for water. He walked down the stairs into the house. It was sad to do so, because he saw pictures of small children, a happy family on the walls. He wondered if they were still alive. Probably not. When he turned on the tap in the house’s kitchen; some gloppy brown stuff came out. It smelled like rust and mud. There was nothing in the fridge, or in the pantry. He was about to give up and look in a different house when he saw a trapdoor in the pantry floor. Upon lifting it up, a ladder was revealed. Cal descended down into the dark, and found a light switch. Amazingly, it worked. The family must have had an emergency generator. But his thoughts about the lights vanished when he saw the crates in the corner. He ripped the lid off one and saw something he hadn’t seen for eight years; beer.

He ran back up, taking with him a crate. When he reached the top, the others were stirring, and he shoved a bottle into all of their hands, even Jake. Before they even saw the drinks, he was halfway through his. It might have been old, and piss-warm, but it quenched his thirst.

Johnny laughed with delight, and Cal remembered how Johnny would always stay outside for longer on supply runs to see if there was beer.

“Warm as piss,” Williams muttered under his breath, but a small smile flashed across his face. The only one with a problem was Jake.

“Dude, I’m fifteen!” he protested. Johnny limped to him, and put the bottle in Jake’s mouth.

“The new legal limit is who the hell cares!” he crowed. Jake kept drinking, until his bottle was empty.

“God, that tastes terrible.”

Cal and Williams laughed. Johnny passed around new drinks, and held his up.

“I propose a toast to alcohol, a miracle worker, because without it we would be nowhere!”

They drank, to alcohol, and to survival, because they had survived enough to get this far. Just a bit longer and they would be safe.