The Afflicted: A Zombie Novel (8 page)

Karyn
, nursing her red cheek, eyes glistening, said, “Exploring, playing, I don’t know. Doing whatever it is little boys should be doing.” She sat down looking defeated.

“I’ll go look for him,” said
Amane, shaking her head in disbelief as she walked away. Joe and Evan stared at Karyn who looked defeated.

“Fine,”
Karyn muttered, looking at the grimy concrete floor, “we’ll come with you to the boat.”

Evan and Joe exchanged looks.

“Just so as we’re clear,” Evan said, “if you ever come between me and getting to my family again, I will not hesitate. You are this close, Karyn. From now on, you do what we say. Clear?” He turned and walked away.

Joe shuffled off awkwardly as
Karyn began sobbing into her hands.

“This isn’t fair,” she
said between sobs. “This isn’t fair.”

Joe
started to feel sorry for her. She might be a queen-bitch but she had just lost her husband and daughter. Maybe they should cut her some slack. If Pete could find some good in her, shouldn’t he try? She probably wasn’t thinking straight. He left her alone, and started rummaging through more boxes, looking for those elusive cigarettes.

*
* * *

Amane
found George curled up on a beanbag, still in its polystyrene cover. He was clutching a rag-doll similar to the one Lucy had. She let him sleep. Looking at him sleeping so peacefully made her realise how physically exhausted she was. She found another beanbag, and pulling it up beside him, slumped down into it, able to relax at last. She curled up listening to George’s gentle breathing and let herself relax. The lack of sleep from last night and the loss of her parents were catching up with her.

Evan
meandered down the rows of boxes, looking for anything useful. He needed to refocus and forget the argument with Karyn. He began rifling through one box and grabbed a couple of blankets that might be handy later. He opened another box, full of clothes. He sorted through it, past t-shirts with ‘I love Melbourne’ on them, and at the bottom of the box, found an olive-green jumper. Picking it up, he swooned and grabbed the shelf to stop himself from falling. A memory jolted through him of his wife, wearing a jumper just like this one. 

He slid to the floor holding the jumper to his chest and closed his eyes.
He and his wife were standing side by side on a pier. He could almost smell the sea-salt air. They were waving. He saw the boat, ‘Lemuria,’ again in front of them. The picture gradually came into focus. His children, Charlie and Anna were waving, standing tall and proud on the boat’s deck. They were shouting goodbyes. Evan smothered his face with the jumper. He had left them on that boat for their usual summer holiday. He vaguely remembered turning to his wife, kissing her, and saying it was okay, that they would be back in a week to pick them up. Then what? His mind went blank again and the picture faded. Damn it, why couldn’t he remember?

Evan pressed his palms against
his eyes, pushing down on them, patches of light fading in and out of the black-red mist, swirling around. He screwed his eyes shut tighter and the orange circles were replaced by pools of deeper black: bursts of magenta and crisp dark blue shimmering in and out of focus. Opening his eyes again, Evan’s head felt lighter. The horrible fluorescent lights were still there but the pain that had been building in him had subsided. He took a deep breath and clutched the green jumper to his chest closer, trying to remember anything else useful, hoping he could kick-start his brain.

Another memory flowed through his mind and sent shivers down his body
; the woman on the tarmac lying beside him had been wearing a green jumper too. That familiar face, so pale in death, was his wife. So he had known her. It was his wife, his poor wife. She must have been on the plane with him. Evan began crying for his lost wife, muffling his sobs into the jumper. As he lamented his wife, his tears dried up. He found he was grieving the idea of her but could remember little about her in reality. What was her name? When was her birthday? What was her favourite food? How long had they even been married? All he had to hold onto was this memory of them together waving at their children.

It struck him that this particular memory must be important, such as it was
being the only one he really had of her. Or maybe it was a recent memory. Waving at their children on the boat...he mused and tried to recollect when it was. What was it Charlie had said in his dreams?

“We come here every year.”

‘Every year.’ He and his wife took the children to their granddads yacht on Tasmania every year for a holiday. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. What was the date today? He pictured the calendar that Joe had been waving around earlier. Was it January 23, 24? That would mean it was school holidays now. ‘Every year.’

Evan was overcome with emotion.
Grief for his wife weaved uneasily through him alongside relief. His children
had
to be on that boat: that was where they were trapped. He and his wife had dropped them off as usual and were headed back home, as they did every year, but then their plane had crashed. He tried to picture home. Was it in Melbourne? His head hurt as much as it had that day on the tarmac. He could not envisage the street or the house where they lived. He buried his head in the jumper, remembering his wife, and hoping he would find a way to his children soon.

* * * *

As the afternoon dragged by, Evan busied himself exploring the warehouse and regularly checked the loading bay. He needed to keep his mind focused. He had lost his wife; he did not want to lose his children. Each time he went out to the loading bay, it seemed quieter. The grill wasn’t shaking as much and the moaning noises outside had lessened. He was sure the zombies were losing interest. Eventually, the grill didn’t move at all anymore. Just the very occasional knocking sound as if someone half-heartedly wanted to come in but wasn’t quite sure or was just brushing past it.

Evan
had found Amane sleeping beside George, but finally, desperate to talk to her, he woke her, unable to wait any longer. He put a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her until she woke. Kneeling down beside her, he whispered in her ear, putting his finger to his lips.

“Hey, I
didn’t want to wake George, but I need to show you something.”

Amane
rolled her head on her shoulders, waking herself up, and traipsed behind him. By the ladder outside the office, she paused, noticing he seemed distracted.

“Are you ok
ay?” she said, touching his arm warmly, “You look a bit pale. Has something happened?”

“No, it’s fine.” He ushered her up the ladder but she knew something wasn’t right. H
is words had a distinct lack of conviction, yet before, he had been so direct and confident.

They
padded across the grimy storage area above the office, and she followed him up through the rooftop doorway. He intimated to her that they should be quiet. Once up on the roof in the sunshine, she kept low and sat down next to Joe. The murmurs from below were un-nerving.

“Over there,” Jo
e said to her, as quietly as he could in his gravelly voice.

She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked to where Joe was pointing whilst Evan sat
down next to her. It was a house, over the road from the warehouse, looking like every other house in its row, except for one thing. Beneath an upstairs window, someone had hung out a sheet and painted on it in deep crimson letters:

HELP
– ALIVE

Amane looked worriedly from Joe to Evan. “Have you seen them? Who’s in there?”

“We don’t know. I didn’t see it at first
,” said Evan in a hushed voice. “I showed Joe up here and he saw it.”

“I’ve not seen anyone,” admitted Joe, “
and I’ve been out here quite a while now.” There were discarded cigarette butts littering the rooftop around his feet. “Look at the front door.”

A dozen or so zombies were pressed against it
, scratching at the wooden door, pounding at the brickwork, leaving bloody handprints behind.

“Fuck,” she
said. ”We can’t just leave them.”

“We
agree on that, but,” said Joe, gravely, “to play devil’s advocate for a minute, we don’t know who is in there or in what state. When we get out of here, it’s going to be risky trying to get in there and we don’t know what we’re going to find. Is it worth taking a chance on something that could be nothing?”

Amane
scanned the house. She couldn’t tell if there were any lights on due to the glare from the sun’s rays hitting the windows. The road between the warehouse and the house was empty, save a few decrepit corpses straggling behind the rest on the road to nowhere.

“Come down, I want to talk about it inside where it’s safer.”
Evan led the way down and they filed down after him, congregating back in the office.

“Look
, when we do go, we can’t just leave them. I’m sure someone is in there or those zombies wouldn’t be so keen to get in, would they? We have to at least try,” said Evan. He was glad to be able to talk about this. He didn’t want the responsibility squarely on his shoulders.

“Nearly four o’clock. We should go soon. I don’t want to try doing this in the dark. You know, no matter how long we wait, the
re’s always going to be some of those things out there,” Joe countered.

“I know,” agreed Evan, “we’re going
to have to move quickly.”

“That truck out there is running on fumes, but it’ll get us to one of the other trucks
in the lot. Be safer than running for it.” said Joe.

Evan was
filling backpacks with their abundant bounty: medicine, blankets, food, cans of drink, matches.

“Ok
ay, stick with me here, I’ve got an idea” Evan said. “I’ll run for it to the house. The back garden looked empty. I can smash the window and get in there in two seconds. You two get another truck, swing back here to pick Karyn and George up, then get me and whoever I find in that house.”

Joe began stuffing his backpack with h
is essentials: cigarettes, lighters, booze.

“I don’t know,” said
Amane, “for all we know, they’re dead, or dying in there and we could be risking ourselves for nothing. What if you get hurt, Evan?”

“I have no intention of being
eaten thank you, I’ll be careful. I just couldn’t live with myself knowing we left someone who might need our help. Look, you take the backpacks into the truck. I need to be quick on my feet, so all I’m taking with me is a weapon. I’ll grab one of those hockey sticks.”

Evan picked one up and examined it
. One end had a carving knife wrapped around it, securely held in place by thick layers of masking tape.

“Let’s do this now,” he said
. “This waiting’s killing me.”

Joe and
Amane nodded in silent agreement. He stuck his head out of the office.

“Ten minutes
, Karyn. Get George and pack up, we’re leaving.”

* * * *

As Joe helped Karyn gather together the few measly things she had managed to muster up, and explain to her and George what was going on, Amane walked with Evan to the metal grill.

“
Just give me a five minute head start, okay?” he said, brandishing the homemade weapon.

“Sure.”
Amane looked at him seriously. “Evan, what’s wrong. I mean, more than the obvious, there’s something wrong, I can tell.”

Evan sat down on the cold steps
in the loading bay and glanced over his shoulder at the door behind them. As she sat down too, he explained to her in a few words how he had woken up on the tarmac, met Joe and Karyn in the hangar, and eventually met with her and Miguel. She listened intently, not interrupting or hurrying him.

“I told you I couldn’t remember anything before th
at day and that’s true. But earlier I found a jumper. Nothing special, but it reminded me of my wife. I remembered her from the airport. She’s dead.”

Amane
rubbed his back as Evan choked up. He wiped his eyes and continued.

“I also remembered my children. They’re on that boat,
Amane. My wife is gone, but my kids, Charlie and Anna, I have to find them, I have to.”

He stood up, hearing footste
ps approaching. Amane gave Evan a hug.

“They’ll be ok
ay, Evan,” she whispered in his ear. He held her, the presence of her warm body against his reassuring him as much as her words.

Joe came through the door as they released each other.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” said Evan. “You talk to her and George? They know what the plan is?”

Joe nodded.

“All sorted, mate. Good luck.” Joe shook Evan’s hand firmly. “We’ll pick you up in
five minutes.”

“Don’t be late,” said Evan
, giving Joe and Amane one last look. He hit the button to roll the grill up and slid out quickly when it was a few feet over the ground. Joe rolled it down, listening to Evan’s footsteps diminishing as he ran.