Cruising along on the harbour, the group of four had a small window in which to collect themselves and witness the new landscape. The sky above them was still mostly clouded over, but there were little breaks of sunshine appearing from behind the heavy blanket that warmed everyone's skin, despite the chilly breeze that swept through the expanse of open water.
There were flocks of squawking Silver gulls hovering above as they scavenged for fish and crustaceans. The sight of them was a reminder that many species aside from humans had undergone a shift in lifestyle when things went to hell. The days of hanging out in car parks and garbage dumps were a distant memory for the resourceful gulls.
Looking out at the city that cocooned the harbour, one could almost imagine that the virus had never struck. But it was quiet, too quiet for such a large metropolis. Boats, having come undone from their docks drifted independently in the water, aimless and haunted. Most wore the telltale signs of decay with rust weeping down the gunwales and barnacles creeping up the hulls. It wasn't unreasonable to speculate that there were probably a vast array of boats that had already sunk to the seabed beneath them.
Harley unzipped her backpack and lifted Rebel out so he could see what she saw. Neither of them had ever been on the open water and Harley wanted to share the experience with a fellow first timer. Rebel stiffened up in Harley's arms and gazed down at the rippling, waving water as the boat cut through it. He seemed mesmerized but nervous, unsure of what to make of the whole thing. Harley imagined that her pup must have been confused about what the water even was.
While Harley sat sidelong on one of the benches with Rebel tucked safely in her arm, John padded over and took a seat beside them, his gaze focused on the scenery.
"Would've been nice to know about Cockatoo Island before we crossed the bridge," Harley muttered, staring at the Sydney Harbour Bridge as it stood tall in the distance.
John glanced at Harley, "Because of Robby and Perez?"
She nodded.
John pursed his lips, "We had no way of knowing about the island before we got to the CDC"
Harley shrugged.
Lifting his arm, John brushed a few stray hairs behind Harley's ear, looking at her with adoration. Despite her impenetrable veneer, John knew she cared a great deal more than she let on.
She glanced at him quickly then returned her gaze to the water, "Do you think this'll be the place?"
John was quiet for a moment in thought as he looked out over the harbour, "Yeah," he nodded, scratching the stubble on his cheek.
Harley smirked, "Liar"
Looking at her perplexed, John asked, "What?"
"You did the thing," Harley said, smiling.
John knit his brow, "What thing?"
"The scratch thing. . The thing you do when you're worried or uncomfortable," Harley explained.
"I have a scratch thing?" John asked, looking puzzled.
Harley snorted, "Uh, yeah," she said then mimicked John, scratching her cheek while feigning an overly concerned expression.
John shrugged his shoulders, "I'm just itchy"
"Itchy with worry," Harley teased.
Smiling, John turned his gaze back to the harbour.
"You have one too, you know. . A thing," he informed.
Harley looked at John, frowning, "Do not"
John reached down for Harley's free hand, lifting it to display her fingernails; raw and chewed down to the fold
She scrunched her nose and pulled her hand away, having lost the bet.
John scooted himself closer to Harley, taking her hand again in his own and lacing his fingers through hers. He lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it.
Feeling cautious, Harley slowly pulled her hand away from his, looking down as she brushed her hair behind her ears.
"Harley, I-" John began but was cut off when Edvin spoke, "There it is," he announced, pointing to an island not far off from where they sailed.
It was the largest island within the harbour and looked lifeless upon first impression. The group could make out the shapes of buildings but not much else.
Everyone gazed fixedly at the island as the pontoon approached, worrying as to whether or not they were about to walk into a death trap. There was a possibility that the island was overrun with screamers, or populated by contemptible people such as those they'd run into on their travels. There was a possibility that they'd find nothing, and not knowing one way or the other is what made them anxious.
As they approached the wharf, Taylor cut the engine, allowing the pontoon to drift forward toward the large, concrete dock on its own. Edvin climbed over the rail of the boat and waited until they were close, then jumped off and onto the damp pier. He spun around and grasped the railing of the pontoon, pulling on it and forcing it to come to a stop before it and its passengers drifted into the connecting embarkment. John tossed the thick, nylon rope to Edvin so he could fasten the boat to the steel dock cleats and prevent it from wandering away while they searched the island for life.
Harley kissed Rebel and gently packed him back up, leaving the zipper undone so he could poke his head out given that he was quickly outgrowing his little nest.
Everyone geared up and took turns climbing out of the boat and onto the dock. They walked cautiously up a ramp that led to a plexiglass wait shelter on the ledge of the adjoining embarkment, and around the corner they were met by a rather large, red brick building. The very center of the structure revealed a narrow walk through tunnel leading to the inner portion of the island, and above it was a sign reading 'Cockatoo Island'
Ever vigilant, the foursome wielded their guns and held them at the ready. Despite hoping for the best, they needed to be prepared for the worst.
They judiciously moved as a unit into the short tunnel and emerged from the other side into a vast, empty space distinguished by the large concrete slabs that made up its ground, and the few scattered industrial vehicles spread about. Up ahead there stood a gargantuan sandstone wall which stretched nearly the entire width of the island and rose no less than fifty feet in the air, cradling an upper plateau. From where the group stood, peering upward, it seemed to be fenced off from the rest of the island.
Harley scanned her surroundings, confused and curious, "What was this place before?"
"It's been lots of things throughout the years, but just before the virus it was a heritage site. Kind of a tourist attraction," Edvin explained.
Upon first inspection the island appeared lifeless and barren, but they'd only just arrived and the upper plateau looked promising, if only they could find a way up.
"Let's go this way," Edvin insisted, pointing West. The group obliged.
"Have you been here before?" Taylor asked Edvin as the two of them walked side by side just ahead of John and Harley.
Edvin shook his head, "No. . Meant to, but never got around to it"
As the small team of four moved westward along the massive wall, they were surprised to see a shift in the lower part of the island's appearance. Where the east side was cold and industrial, the West side appeared to have, at one time, been a campground. There were dozens of ripped and fallen tents nestled in to a sea of wild, uncut grass, and all around there grew various kinds of Ferns and Ficus, Gum trees and Banksia.
They could tell that the lower level of the island and the plateau were slowly converging as the wall began to appear shorter and shorter as they walked. Trees, grass and shrubs somehow managed to sprout and thrive on the chiseled sandstone wall face, and mature, tendril like roots clung in intricate patterns along the many curves and edges of the chiseled stone.
Edvin, Taylor, Harley and John passed what appeared to have, at one time, been a set of concrete stairs that would have led directly up to the plateau. Now they sat in huge, crumbling blocks next to the walkway, looking as if they had been demolished intentionally.
Everyone stopped momentarily, looking at the wreckage at their feet and then up at the top of the wall, seeing nothing but thick brush.
"There's gonna be another way. Let's keep moving," Edvin assured.
Not only did they find stairs, they also passed what appeared to be a tunnel etched right into the wall; barricaded of course, but where it led to was a mystery. It was precisely after they padded past the curious tunnel that the wall drastically descended to only around twelve feet in height.
They were immediately jolted to see two young people leaning against the inside of the tall fence that separated them from the lower, more vulnerable part of the island. They were teenagers, wrapped in each others arms, kissing and utterly clueless to the audience just behind them.
The spectacle lasted only a moment before the boy opened his eyes; perhaps feeling as if he were being watched. He jumped in surprise, rapidly grabbing the girl's hand and pulling her away from the fence. She turned to see what he was looking at and flinched. Both of them were clearly frightened.
"Hello," Edvin greeted, attempting to break the tension.
The fearful teens promptly turned heel, dashed away from the four strangers and were out of sight in a split second.
"That went well," Taylor said as he scratched his head.
John looked down, "Maybe it was the guns?" he surmised, having realized all four of them were brandishing a weapon.
Without even a moment to reevaluate their plan, the foursome were stricken to see a group of men and women charge up to the fence, all holding guns of their own and aiming them down at the newcomers, ready to shoot.
John, Edvin, Harley and Taylor instinctively raised their weapons toward the group of armed strangers, prepared for the worst.