Aftermath (Invasion of the Dead) - Part I (6 page)

3.
        
The Checkpoint

They stopped at another gas station
in heavy scrub, no more than a dilapidated shack sprouting an ancient bowser with the faded MOBIL logo on it.  Two cars sat out the front and dust clung to the windows in a thick film.  Callan wanted to keep the fuel tank full and although the place appeared deserted, Greg decided to look inside.  Kristy needed to stretch her legs.

Sherry had fallen asleep and Dylan couldn’t be bothered moving
, preferring to sit and consider the circumstances with greater thought.  This happened whenever he felt nervous or stressed and wouldn’t cease until the issue was resolved.  He thought it might be a long time before that happened.  He wound down the window and the strong smell of gum leaves filled the car.

Sherry opened one sleepy eye and said,
“Where are we?”

“Another gas station on some
dirt road in the middle of nowhere.”  He thought about joining Kristy.  He wasn’t fond of Sherry, although she seemed compelled to unload her problems on him and had done so a number of times on the trip.  She and Callan had seemed distant over the past five weeks and Sherry had told him one or two minor things.  He felt for Callan having to put up with her bossy, obnoxious ways, and nothing he did ever made her happy.  His obsequious efforts gained little thanks.  It reminded Dylan that she had referred to an incident a few days ago during a brief discussion but had not elaborated.  It had roused his curiosity.    

“Great.  Another delay.”

Dylan added unrealistically impatient to her list of flaws.  “The other day when we were talking near the swimming hole, you mentioned an incident that had happened before the trip.”

Sherry watched Callan pump gas.  Kristy was standing in the doorway of the shack, talking to Greg
who was inside.  Sherry let out a big sigh.  “I cheated on Callan,” she said.

Dylan’s mouth fell open.
  It was the last thing he had expected her to say.

“You’re not gonna say anything to that?”

“To be honest, I couldn’t think of an appropriate response.  Are you joking?”

“No
.  No joke.”

“Why haven’t you told him?
  You haven’t, otherwise he’d be majorly pissed.”

She shrugged.  “I will.  When we get home.”

“Shit.  This whole time you’ve been carrying that around.”

“I know.  It’s been difficult.”

“Not for you.  For him!  You’ve been pretending to love him.”

“I stopped doing that a while ago.”

“Oh fuck me.  Why are you telling me this?”

“
You asked, and I’ve got nobody else.”

“
Why did you come on this trip?”

She rolled he
r tongue over her lip.  “Guilt, and I wanted see if there was any love left.”

Dylan closed his eyes and lowered
his head.  Callan wouldn’t think so, but he was better off without Sherry.  What a mess.  Nobody deserved this.  The guy was hapless with girls.  Dylan thought back to grade ten.  He knew Callan still blamed him for his breakup with Emma Sandhurst.  Dylan had barely spoken to her.  She had chased him and he’d been as confused as everybody why she’d done it.  It wasn’t his style to pursue an attached girl.  Emma had fed Dylan lies and he had gone along with it, probably making it seem worse to Callan.  They had been peripheral friends until that point.  A shocking thought formed in his mind.

“Who was it?  And don’t you dare fucking tell me it was Johnny.”
  Sherry looked away.  “Noooo.  No.  Come on Sherry.  One of his best mates?  He loves Johnny.  Are you trying to fuck him up completely?”  Tears ran from the corners of her eyes.  “Anyone but
Johnny
.”

The
door opened and Callan jumped in.  Dylan’s heart froze.

“What’d you say about Johnny?”

Sherry wiped at the tears.  “We were just talking,” Dylan said, his heart thundering, “about who might have survived.  We thought Johnny was a sure thing to have bunkered down somewhere safely.”

“You bet,” Callan said.  “No chance
that he’s sick.  He’s too smart and tough.  Are you okay babe?”  Sherry took his hand.  “It’s okay.  Johnny will be fine.  Our parents will be fine.”

Dylan turned away, supressing disgust.
  He was ready to explode.  He hated knowing secrets.  He had a bad habit of inadvertently making them known.

Greg and Kristy returned
empty.  The place was deserted, no phones or newspapers, little food.  No dead people in the house out the back either.  They drove away and Dylan felt the secret like a lump of ice in his gut.

He checked his phone again but there was still no service.  Not even the “SOS only” message.  He needed to talk to his father.  Dylan was certain
he would be across the virus, collecting papers and making notes.  He’d never let him down, and would have a plan for staying safe.  Survival.  He loved his father.  He loved his mother too, and she had been almost infallible, but he was closer to his father, the same way Jenny was closer to her.  The man had been there every day of Dylan’s life, coaching, counselling, providing.  He ran a hugely successful business, although Dylan had rarely suffered his absence for it.  He had long encouraged Dylan to follow his dreams and pursue whatever made him happy.  His father would support him unconditionally.  He thought about their last conversation, funnily enough, about Kristy
. 

“So you like her then?”  His father had said with a wry smile beneath a trimmed moustache showing the first flecks of grey.

“Ahhh.  I don’t know.”

His father had laughed.  “Just like me at your age.  I bet you
do
like her.  A lot.  It’s complicated, isn’t it?”

Dylan had frowned.  “Yeeeahh.”

“See.  Let me guess.  Her brother.  He doesn’t like you.” 

Dylan narrowed his eyes.  “That’s easy.  You know the whole, backstory.  You’re
part of it.
”

Bob Cameron shrugged.  “Don’t let the thoughts and feelings of outsiders affect this, Dylan.  It’s between you and Kristy.  If you like her, do something about it.”  He walked over and put a hand on Dylan’s shoulder.  “Mate, your mother and I just want you to be happy.  We’ll deal with anything or anyone
, as long as you’re where you want to be.”

“Thanks Dad.  I
do
like her.  A lot.  But a few things worry me and I’m just not sure how to approach them.”

“Well, either one of us are here if you need to talk.  But take a risk.  I wouldn’t have the amazing family or the business if I hadn’t taken plenty of risks.”
   

Dylan thought about never seeing him again, and tears blurred his vision.  He tightened his jaw until it hurt. 
I hope you’re okay Dad. 

He shut away the thoughts and watched the scenery out the window
, reminiscing about their time at the lake.  The rain had come soon after leaving the stopping area, pattering the windows in long bullets.  Overhead, dirty clouds bubbled, creating a feeling of impending dusk.  Nobody had spoken.  Dylan knew they were all turning different questions over in their mind.  Answers would be difficult to find.  Some would emerge when they reached Albury, and their respective homes.  He tried to bury the secret Sherry had told him with the knowledge that it would sort itself.  Callan had never shown any concern for him, so why should he worry?  

They
spotted the checkpoint about fifteen miles out of Albury, just north of Table Top road.  They hadn’t passed a single car in either direction.  Callan stopped the car on a roadside patch of gravel and cut the engine.  On their left, a thin creek flowed in lazy, green pools, surrounded by more tussock grass leading to fences and undulating paddocks beyond.  About half a mile along the blacktop, two Army trucks touched noses at angles across the highway.  They sat watching the miniature scene in silence.  No soldiers were visible in the rain. 

Dylan felt rumblings of concern. 
An army blockade meant only one thing.  Either they would have to turn back, or the military were inspecting citizens for signs of the virus. 

“
We could ram it,” Callan said. 

“
Don’t even joke about that,” Kristy said. 

Sherry said,
“We’re not infected though.  They’ll have to let us through.”

Callan said,
“What if they don’t?  What if the
town
is infected and they won’t let us go back?”

“
I doubt it.”  Whilst the old man had scared Dylan too, it didn’t mean the world had gone to hell just yet.  The army would know what was going on and they would have a suitable plan.  They would tell them exactly what had occurred along the east coast, and more importantly, in Albury.  The newspaper they found was weeks old.  Surely the government had control of the situation by now.  “They’ve probably cleaned up Albury and just want to make sure nobody brings the virus back in.”

Callan said, “We’ll see.
  Just remember there are forty-five thousand people in Albury and another thirty five thousand in Wodonga.  That’s a lot of people to get sick.”

Kristy
bumped Dylan’s leg.  “Sorry,” she said, but one finger remained resting against his hand. 

He
smiled, and looked away.  He had to consider her now.  Despite his father’s advice, he had promised himself nothing would happen whilst Callan was around. 
Technically,
it hadn’t.  They had never even kissed, but his feelings had developed into a deeper affection.  She was irresistible; smart, kind, a wonderful listener. Despite the danger, he’d admired how she had rushed to help the old man, deferring her safety for the welfare of another.  She was selfless.  Such a contrast to his ex-girlfriend, whose self-interest had been her predominant thought.  In hindsight, he didn’t know how the relationship had lasted.  Perhaps it had been the companionship.  He hated being alone.  That was one of the reasons he had agreed to the trip.  His roommate was travelling overseas and he detested coming home to an empty house.   

“
Let’s see what they have to say,” Greg said.  “The worst they can do is turn us around.”  

Dylan
noted the absence of humour in Greg’s voice.  Until their roadside episode, he would have bet Greg was incapable of being serious.  It fortified his nerves.  When the joker stopped joking, it was time to worry.

Sherry said, “If they turn us around, we
can try another way.”

“What if they arrest us?”  Callan said.

“Why would they do that?”  Kristy said.

“I dunno.  Just a crazy thought
.”  He turned the key and the engine rumbled into life.  “Let’s do it then.”

The car
crept along at forty miles an hour, and Callan turned the windscreen wipers to full speed.  Greg laid the Remington beside the seat out of view, and passed the shotgun to Dylan, who pulled out a length of seatbelt and placed the weapon in the back compartment.

As they approached, Callan slowed, waiting for a soldier to exit a truck and greet them.  He stopped twenty yards short and let the vehicle idle.

“Doesn’t look like a standard army blockade,” Greg said.

“How the fuck do you know?”  Callan said.

“
From the movies.”

“Maybe they’re stretched a little thin,” Dylan said.  “This is all they can afford.”

The trucks were identical, about twice the length of the Jeep, with large, treaded wheels and a square cab for the driver and passengers.  The chassis and rear tray wore a mix of light green, dark green and tan paint, whilst the canvas canopy covering the rear showed a more detailed camouflage pattern.  A thick black snorkel for underwater driving ran at the edge of the front window alongside the driver’s door.  The right truck slanted.  Both wheels facing them were flat.  Between the noses sat a table full of equipment, including several desktop computers.  Beside it stood an upright device that reminded Dylan of an x-ray machine at the airport.  Either side of each truck were barricades to prevent cars from driving around.  A large white sign stood on a pole and said: DO NOT PROCEED BEYOND THIS POINT WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION. 

“Should I press the horn?”  Callan said. 

“No,” Greg said.  “Don’t.  It might piss them off.” 

Sherry
pointed to the gap between the noses of the trucks.  “Can you squeeze through there if we move that table?”

Greg said, “You don’t want the army coming after
you for breaking their blockade.”

Callan made a pinched face.  “
Doubt it.  Not with the boat on, unless I smash it up.”

“What about
driving around the trucks?”

The left e
dge fell away to a steep embankment and sloped down to the river.  Tall grass filled a rainwater gutter on the other, leading to another ridge and beyond, a small hillside.  

“
Looks a bit risky.”