Apocalypse Diary of a Survivor [Book 3] Page 8

  Like the trip to the beachfront, the navigation element was crucial. At least here we had a lot of building remains to work from but, when it all came down to it, the houses in this part of the city all looked similar. You could tell where the streets were, but there weren’t any street signs to label exactly where you were. That’s plenty to get your head around in normal circumstances, but here, on enemy territory, we couldn’t afford to stray too far from where we intended for fear of jumping out onto The Parade too early.

  We had predetermined a path before we left camp the night before. The plan was to head up Angus St then down Williams St, over Osmond Tce, then work our way north and east through the side streets until we found a spot on The Parade to set up our lookout. But in this world, maps are theories. Even though the tsunami waters were higher when they passed through the city, its clear landmarks made up for the increased damage, from a navigational point of view. Everywhere you looked you could recognise the remains of building X or Y. Where we found ourselves in Kent Town, however, the rubble and building remains just merged into one.

  Streets aren’t as easy to find as we thought, either. Especially pre-dawn. And especially using the glow lights. We had the compass to steer us in the right direction, but without landmarks, there was a lot of guess work. And when you’re on enemy territory, that can easily turn to panic.

  Anyway, we moved north along Dequetteville St until we found what was definitely a side street leading in the right direction, then worked our way up to Fullarton Rd. Now, Angus St continued on to become William St on the other side of Fullarton. When we hit Fullarton there was no street on the other side. Looking at the map, we realised we must’ve been too far north and headed south until we hit the next street – William.

  I’m saying this like it was all matter of fact, look-at-the-map decision making. But, we were scared, this was us escalating our feud with Norwood, and we really had no idea exactly where we were. We had no idea what we were heading into, we had no idea if or where anyone else might be around us. We could also only see 15m in front of our faces and knew people could see our light from further away than that. So, while this was simple map navigation under trying circumstances at one level, it was also scary as all hell, walking through the unknown blackness into who knew what nightmare on another.

  I’m so glad I was with Shane, Ye-jun and Kelly. I’ve worked with those guys the most, and through the most testing conditions. You have to have a rapport to keep your cool in times like that. You have to know the signals in others that they need calming down and for them to see that in you... and know how to act. You need to know how to communicate with a minimum of words and fuss. There are a lot of balls in the air (I’ve always found that term a bit dodgy, but you get the point)... and it doesn’t take much to drop one. Then the whole juggling act can come crashing down.

  We backed up south about 100m and found a street on our left. We headed up, staying quiet, watching our feet as we walked. We passed an intersection, then a few hundred metres later another. It was only at that point we knew we were on the right street as William is the only one in the area that links directly from Fullerton Rd to Osmond Tce.

  Soon enough we were there, just as you could sense the first of the morning light thinking about coming through. Then we hit our first serious game-changer for the day. Osmond Tce was lined with a ridge of ash to our side – not a wall as such, but it was piled up a good half a metre above the ash level we’d been walking through. On the other side, the road was cleared. No ash. We looked at each other, knowing what that probably meant. And those thoughts didn’t take long to be confirmed. As we passed through to the other side I noticed tyre marks in the small amount of ash still on the road surface.

  Norwood was mobile. They had vehicles and they were clearing the streets.

  We didn’t have time to let it sink in as we were in a race against time to hole-up before the morning’s light left us exposed.

  So we climbed the ash ridge on the far side of Osmond Tce. I moved the pistol I was carrying to my jacket pocket and kept my hand on it at the ready. I watched the others do similar. My heart beat was going crazy. The stakes had risen again. We were now walking into Norwood hubber central.

  The first street on the left was Church St, according to the map. It headed all the way through to The Parade. There was also a little laneway halfway along, that connected to the next street east, but we thought staying with Church was the best way to go for a first look as it gave us a bit of distance from Norwood’s HQ.

  Even at this distance, we were close – real close.

  And we didn’t know anything about the territory we were heading through – where they chose to live, what streets they usually travelled – anything. We could see footprints in the ash we were walking over, so we knew this street was used at some point recently. That made things tense enough, and with the morning light gaining strength each minute, well, it was full on. More so with each step.

  At least the light allowed us to turn off our glowing lights, which evened up the visibility game on both sides. That was a little win.

  We passed the last of the houses on Church St. There was a carpark on the right, then some shops and restaurants – beyond that, The Parade.

  Shane put his hand up to signal us to stop, while he stood in contemplation. Then he got all excited and signalled for us to head through the car park. The space was pretty narrow for the first 20-25m before it opened up to the left. Shane was the first around that corner and did a little fist pump before calling us to follow once again.

  We had nearly reached the other end of the car park – which connected with the next side street real close to Norwood’s HQ. It had me feeling very nervous. But Shane didn’t take us that far. The last building before the street was his target. He gently tried the door but the ash hadn’t been cleared from there yet. There was a balcony just above us. It was just out of reach for him to jump and hold on to the lower ledge, but with a boost he made it over the railing.

  While he was out of sight, we could hear some tinkering, then a click. Seconds later he popped his head back over the railing and called us up. After a few minutes of mucking around we were all on the balcony and through the door he had jimmied open.

  “Eight ball, anyone?” whispered Shane as we walked through the venue – a pool hall. How very Shane to know about this place. We moved slowly past some of the tables. The weather had gotten in through some of the broken windows and no one had bothered to clean it up, so we didn’t feel we were in immediate danger of being detected here.

  We made our way past the bar to the front of the building. It was on the corner of The Parade, overlooking the main entrance to the shopping centre. Not that you could totally make everything out in the dim early morning light, but we knew enough to know we’d found our spot.

  Also, the front and side windows were small and it was very dark within – conditions just about perfect to see what was happening but stay out of sight.

  Shane made his way to the staircase that led to the front entrance. No signs of recent activity. Then he made a beeline for the bar in the middle of the venue. Most of the alcohol and soft drinks had been swiped, as had any possible chips, peanuts and bar snacks. He swore, a frustration definitely directed at the alcohol swindle.

  We had our spot. Now it was a waiting game.

  It was a good hour before we caught sight of our first Norwood hubber... or hubbers. A group of two dozen or so poured out of the front entrance of the shopping centre, split into several smaller groups and took off in all directions. We figured it was a routine boundary check, or lookout shift heading out for their day.

  A group of nine of them walked down The Parade right past us. They were chatting... a little bit of banter or light-hearted arguing it felt like. While it was hard to make out what they were saying, they were clearly unaware of our presence – any presence.

  Scary really – I wonder if the opposite has ever happened to me – being utter
ly unaware I was being watched on my home turf. For our mission today, though, it was ideal. It meant we had come in completely under the radar.

  The Parade has also been cleared of ash. I knew it would tell us a lot if we could figure out all of the roads they had cleared – we get a good insight into what they were using their vehicles for and why. Unfortunately for my curiosity, I also knew it was far too risky an assignment for this trip.

  About an hour later another group of hubbers – slightly smaller in number than the first – left the front entrance. They headed across the road and out of sight up the arcade that led to the nearby Coles store.

  A few minutes later we heard the sound of engines – multiple engines – different hums and tones. Whatever this was, we knew it was big. I moved as quickly as I could to the back balcony, hoping to be able to see something from the Coles car park across the road. No luck – soon Kelly was calling me back to the front.

  Moving in to park outside the front entrance to Norwood’s base was a fleet of vehicles. A fleet! They were in the process of pulling up as I got to the front window. Some pulled over to the left of the street and some to the right – cars and SUVs of all descriptions – maybe 10, it was hard to tell as we didn’t have a good line of sight with the south side of the street. And they had been modified. I think someone had seen Mad Max one too many times, because there were all sorts of random modifications added to each car. Spikes here, nets, there, rails... well, it wasn’t entirely Mad Maxian, but it wasn’t far off.

  Then, down the middle of the road came two trucks. One, the smaller one, had a giant scoop on the front, tailing off from left to right – obviously what they’d been using to clear the roads. The other was a big semi-trailer that had been given the same spikes-and-rails treatment as the cars. It was one seriously scary piece of kit.

  It was in those moments that the scale of what had been happening out here really sunk in. Norwood hadn’t gone home from the battle with their tail between their legs. They had learned from us. They used what they had and started to evolve.

  It was a very dangerous development.

  I mean, we all watched and made comment. And we all knew that we were witnessing the first real game-changer, in a long time, that wasn’t ours.

  We figured that whatever the recent gunfight skirmish was, Norwood was definitely involved. We also knew we were looking at a force that could potentially smash our wall defences. Once they’d done that, with the fleet they had assembled and our streets vehicle-friendly, we were looking at a power that could decimate us.

  As we put forward our theories about what they were doing and what they could do, more of the hubbers spilled out of the entrance and filled the fleet. We could see guns aplenty. Then we saw the Fat Man as he marched out of the entrance and headed to the big rig. Then he climbed onto the foot railing and had a conversation with the driver through the window. After a couple of minutes he thumped the side of the door frame, climbed back down and headed back to the shopping centre entrance. He must’ve said something else along the way because everyone else burst into applause.

  It was a nasty, sinking feeling – seriously messed up. It was a moment of realisation that everything we had built around us to keep us safe and protected potentially added up to nothing. There was a technological arms race on and we were no longer the only super power. As for the Fat Man, well, nothing good ever happens when he’s involved.

  Worst of all, the feeling you could sense from those on the ground was pure elation. Like, this power they had at their disposal made them, and not in a good way. There was something about it that really bugged me. But then again, they’ve always bugged me.

  Soon after that, the convoy started to depart, signalled by the Fat Man firing a gun into the air and another round of cheering and hooting. They rolled straight down The Parade – right past us. We moved from where we were at the Edwards St window to get a better view.

  Things were even more daunting at close range. I mean, this was a numbers game – they had more people, more vehicles, more guns... and we were only a couple of kilometres of ash and a wall away. They were not good numbers. As for the big rig, well, that was something else. It was huge. I mean, it was normal big truck size, but we weren’t looking at the truck exactly, just how much bigger it was than everything we had. When that rolled by I knew each and every one of us was thinking the same thing – that can never get inside our walls.

  If it did, it would be game over.

  Between the people in the cars, those who’d left earlier and those in the cheering crowd, there must’ve been a good 150 at least. Whether that was everyone or not, who knows, but it dwarfed our population.

  After the fleet rolled out of sight, we tried to work out where they went by sound, but it was anyone’s guess really. Then we returned to the window overlooking the hub entrance and watched as the rest of them went back inside.

  Then things went quiet again... for hours. We were left to our thoughts. There was a lot of quiet processing initially. That’s group code for ‘oh shit’, which probably summed up the situation better than anything we could verbalise, anyway. We had come up here trying to find something we potentially didn’t want to, and we knew there were most likely vehicles involved, but in no way had we expected this.

  Things are different out here than in the city, though. They are on the fringe of the tsunami line. Cars in good condition are an easy dig away. Most of them just sit on the side of the road right where they were left on rock night. That was most definitely a Norwood advantage. And while I was thinking about it during those hours it did really bug me that we had spent days and so many man hours and resources... combined with more than a bit of luck.... just to get six cars. And they had trumped us in no time... and could again... and again.

  They were a smart operation, too. They’d seen what we’d done and learned from it. Back around the battle of the oval time, we had only cleared a few bits of road, but they’d seen the power of using the ash and they had learned. We had moved it to suit our needs and create advantages. It gave us the strength to take on a force much larger than our own. So, they had set about evening up that advantage.

  No good was going to come from this, we all knew that as we sat there. Ego, if nothing else, meant they’d be back. And while it may have sent them to other parts of the city, picking other fights, it was coming back to us at some point.

  It was well into the afternoon when the fleet returned. They pulled up to the front of the shopping centre and the big rig rang its horn. Soon, the hubbers flooded out again. A couple of them opened the back doors of the truck’s trailer while the crowd gathered around.

  Soon, they were unloading all sorts of things – the day’s haul no doubt. There were boxes, suitcases and backpacks – everything. Who knows what they were filled with, but everyone seemed very pleased with themselves.

  It took about 15 minutes to clear the truck and for the fleet to roll back to wherever it was parked. There was one vehicle missing. The truck they had turned into an ash plough was nowhere to be seen.

  Soon after, the driving crew returned on foot. Then things stayed quiet again for another hour, when the ash plough returned. Then another 45 minutes or so later, when the light was really starting to fade, the lookout crews came back and things went quiet.

  We sat there until dark, then waited another 30 minutes for good measure. In that time we discussed our next move. Shane really wanted to scout where the vehicles were kept and, as good a plan as that sounded, it was just too risky. That was a 20-minute conversation (in heated whispers) summed up in a sentence, but I fought to make sure we didn’t take that chance. Our biggest asset in everything right now was gaining information while going undetected. As soon as they discovered us.... just one person once... that would change forever. Just as things had changed at our base knowing we were breeched. And while Shane’s idea was good, I just felt we had to give this information to everyone else before making any rash moves ourselves.
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br />   He gave me some serious stink eye... but he knew I was right.

  Meanwhile, I wanted to find out more about the roads. From all we observed today, they did not have a night lookout shift. So, I suggested heading back the way we came, until we hit Osmond Tce again but then, instead of continuing down William St, we’d turn back towards The Parade, just to see if we could learn anything more about the road structure. Most importantly, I thought, was to see if the cleared roads extended along towards the city.

  Once we agreed on the plan, we finished deleting the last signs of our presence, headed to the balcony and made our departure. It was still nerve-wracking walking on enemy turf, but having the intel we’d gained from a day of observations really did take the edge off the impending mortal danger component of that fear.

  We stayed quiet, low and in single file, using the glow lights as sparingly as we could. Before we knew it, we were at Osmond Tce again. We climbed the ash lining the road and walked north along the bitumen. It didn’t take long to get to the intersection.

  Sure enough, both roads were clear at the junction. There was only one thing for it, and that was to head back towards the city along The Parade to see exactly how far they’d cleared.

  There was something sickening about walking down that stretch. There’s only one reason they were clearing in that direction and that was to open up their access to us. So, in the numerous outcomes where we didn’t know enough to come investigating today, we would’ve had no idea all this was happening.

  We only made it just over 100m west of the intersection before the cleared road stopped – just short of the first side street west. We climbed back up to ash level, being extra careful to cover our tracks and any other signs of human activity, then headed home, via Phoenix, who was waiting for us at the Wakefield St lookout.