Desolation Boulevard (26 page)

He sat in his car and looked around. Nothing
moved, and even though he knew the buildings would be inhabited
with sleeping feeders, he felt safe because the sun was still
reasonably high in the sky. He reached over to the passenger seat
and grabbed the can of fluorescent spray paint he’d brought with
him from the depot and climbed out of the car. As he walked over to
large beige sandstone wall that was the front of the Millfield
Police Station, he thought about his role in this deadly and
disturbing play, and pondered the meaning of his new existence.
Even though the event had occurred only a week ago, he was already
having difficulty remembering what his life had been like before.
The traumatic and emotionally draining episodes of the past seven
days had become his new reality. The memory of his parents and his
love for them would never die, but now it seemed swamped and
somehow diminished as he accepted the responsibility for keeping
Gabby and Montana safe. He took a deep breath and sighed as he
walked up the steps of the Police Station.

He stood at the top of the stairs and shook
the paint can. The steel ball inside rattled around like a bone as
he mixed the paint thoroughly. He pointed the can at the large
glass doors and wrote, as neatly as he was able:

“
My name is Matt. I
survived. I am at “Two Hills” - 10 kms west on Millfield
Road.”

By the time he was finished he had filled up
every inch of space on the double doors and stood back to admire
his handiwork. It wasn’t very hip-hop, he thought, but at least it
was legible. He walked back to his ute and drove home.

The rest of the day was spent setting up the
arc lights around the house and finding the best position for the
bookmobile. Montana and Gabby watched and offered suggestions as he
considered one spot and then another, but finally he decided to
place it under the large pepper tree near the front of the house,
where it would get shade in summer and sunshine in winter. As soon
as he’d made sure it was on level ground, he unlocked the door and
Montana and Gabby hurried inside to explore their new classroom.
When Matt joined them he was surprised to see that it was more than
just shelves filled with books. There was a little corner with
beanbag chairs and a TV, and up against the other wall were a table
and two chairs where you could sit and write, or colour in.

“
This is perfect,” said
Montana, smiling at Matt. “I can’t believe you did this for
her.”

He returned her smile as he plopped down
onto a Sesame Street beanbag. “I did it for all of us. Hey Gabby,
why don’t you pick a story and bring it over for us to read
together?”

So, while the sun moved
slowly across the perfect blue sky outside, Gabby and Montana sat
on beanbags and listened in silence while Matt read
“Oh, The Places You’ll Go” by Dr
Seuss.
The sun threw dappled light
onto the wall and the only other sound, apart from Matt’s voice,
were the birds as they chittered in the pepper tree. When Matt
finished the story, he closed the book quietly and placed it on the
floor beside him. For a few short seconds nobody spoke as they
remembered how the world once was, and hoped it could be
again.

Gabby looked at Matt. “Can you read a story
every day?”

“
Of course I can. I think
books need to be read more than ever now, don’t you?

Chapter 45

Bonnie and Sally sat on a low concrete wall
outside the warehouse waiting for Dylan to return. He’d left ten
minutes ago to find the items he needed to set the warehouse alight
so both women sat with their weapons on their laps chatting to each
other as the hiders lay just metres away, unaware of their
impending fate.

“
You really like him don’t
you?” Bonnie asked.

“
Is it that obvious? I’m
trying not to look too desperate, but yes, I really like
him.”

“
I thought so. He’s very
handsome.”

“
Yep.”

Bonnie paused and looked at Sally, as if
sensing doubt. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

“
No, not really. I don’t
know how to feel about all this violence and zombie killing. I’ve
always been a pacifist, and liked boys who felt the same way but
Dylan seems so eager to kill these creatures. I don’t know; I’m
just confused I guess.”

Bonnie put her gun down on the wall beside
her and took Sally’s hand.

“
You needn’t worry. Dylan’s
not a psychopath or anything like that. His motivation for killing
these creatures is very personal and very understandable, once you
know what’s causing the hatred.”

Sally looked at Bonnie forlornly. “I thought
I did know him. We’ve … well, you know, made love. Why has he told
you things he hasn’t told me? I thought we were close. I thought he
loved me too.”

Bonnie smiled. “Look, don’t panic. Dylan and
I have some things in common. He told me some stuff that he wanted
to get off his chest. He probably doesn’t want to scare you just
yet with his emotional baggage. It’s hard for him to open up old
wounds. Give him a chance. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. It’s
been very hard for him.”

“
Oh, okay,” said Sally,
wondering how Dylan’s past could be any more traumatic than any
body else’s, including her own, but just as she was about to raise
that point, they heard the sound of a car getting louder as it
approached their position by the warehouse door.

“
That sounds like him now,”
said Bonnie, picking up her gun.

As the truck came around the corner, both
women could see Dylan in the driver’s seat as he gave them a little
wave. He had secured a Post Office van and pulled it up at the top
of the ramp near the warehouse. He climbed from the cab. “Any
movement from inside?”

“
Nothing,” replied Bonnie
as they climbed down from the wall, and went to the truck to see
what Dylan had brought back.

When he opened the back doors they could see
an array of large glass bottles, a pile of bed sheets, a large
bottle of liquid detergent and two metal reservoirs of petrol.

“
The petrol was the hardest
thing to find,” he said. “The petrol station bowsers won’t work
without electricity. I found these in the back of a mechanics shop.
Everything else I got in a motel down the block.”

“
What’s it for?” asked
Sally.

“
Well, the idea is Molotov
cocktails, but I’ve only read about them so I’m not sure if they’ll
work, so I have the van as a backup. Between both of them we should
be able to make a pretty decent fire.”

Dylan explained his idea to the girls, and
the next twenty minutes were spent filling the glass bottles with a
mixture of petrol and liquid detergent, before stuffing a piece of
petrol-soaked bed sheet tightly into the neck as a fuse. The other
part of the plan was to park the Post Office van hard against the
roller door at the bottom of the warehouse, before setting the
petrol tank alight.

“
What happens if the
warehouse doesn’t burn?” Bonnie asked, as they lined up their
homemade bombs on the concrete wall.

“
I don’t think that’s
likely,” Dylan replied. “This place is really old. The floors and
internal frames are all timber. Once the fire takes hold, there’ll
be no stopping it. We’ll need to get away really quickly. And even
if the whole warehouse doesn’t burn down completely, I think the
zombies will be killed by smoke inhalation, or in the crush as they
all try to escape through that one roller door.”

Bonnie looked over at Sally, who was wearing
a concerned expression. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“
This is horrific. It’s
what? Inhumane or something! God, I know they’re zombies now, but a
week ago these were people with families and normal lives. I have a
real problem with just locking them in a building and burning them
alive. It makes me feel like I’m the savage.”

As Sally looked to Bonnie for support, Dylan
threw down the rag he’d been wiping his hands with and replied
angrily. “Look! Don’t you think I know that! Do you think this is
some game? I’m playing the macho post-apocalyptic warrior? I
fucking hate this, but I want every one of these things dead, and I
don’t care if they die painfully.”

Sally looked at Dylan in surprise. She knew
he possessed a fierce abhorrence of these creatures, but she had
never heard him express it so vehemently before. Just when she
thought his tirade had finished, however, he continued, with a
revelation so shocking that it made her shiver.

“
Before this fucking event,
I had a family! Before this event I had a daughter! I had a
daughter! Do you understand?”

He stared at Sally, as if challenging her to
continue with her argument, then went on, “Before last week I
probably would have been on your side. Deep down you’re right
aren’t you? It’s barbaric behaviour. Burning them while they sleep!
I mean, it’s not like these freaks asked to be turned into zombies,
is it? They can’t help it; but you’ve seen what they can do. You
seen the destruction they’ve caused! You’ve seen them turn on each
other!”

He paused and Sally could see the angst,
etched clearly on his face like a death mask. He wants to tell me
something, she thought, as Dylan looked into her eyes, conflicted
and hurt. There was a tangible sense of electricity between the
trio, as they waited to see if Dylan would share his story or
continue to hide it away like a secret tumor that would eventually
kill him.  There didn’t seem to be a sound in the world except
for Dylan’s ragged breathing and then, as a thousand creatures lay
inside the warehouse silently waiting for death, he began to
speak.

“
I’m a father. I have, I
mean had, a three-year-old daughter. She was my angel.”

He paused and took a deep breath. “I may not
be able to do this,” he said, giving Bonnie and Sally a look that
almost broke their hearts. He took another breath and carried
on.

“
Her name was Maxine. I
called her Maxy. She was the product of a one-night stand with a
woman I should have stayed away from. My daughter was like a divine
gift to me. I lived for her. Her mother and I disliked each other
intensely, but the courts said I could see Maxy once a week, and so
I did. I wanted her to know her dad, and I wanted her to know that
I was a good dad, who loved her. I had custody from six o’clock on
Saturday nights to four on Sunday afternoons. It was the best time
of the week. We both looked forward to it. We always did something
fun and I never talked about her mother. It was just time for
us.”

“
Anyway, I’d been working
the night shift on the Friday of the event at “Snakebites”, a
little bar in the city. I thought it was weird that night when
people started drifting out of the place a bit earlier than usual
but I didn’t think much of it because I’d been so busy. I know now
that they were going to find somewhere to hibernate, but at the
time I just thought they were going home to bed. I was in the back
cool room getting more beer and when I came out the other two bar
staff had left, and I was alone. I was really pissed off! I thought
they’d just gone home and left me to close up the bar without
telling me!  By that time it was about three in the morning.
Anyway, I left a note for the manager to see when he came in the
next day, telling him how pissed off I was, and closed up and
headed home on my bike. The streets were really quiet, but I just
thought it was one of those quirky things that happen sometimes.
When I got home I was still wired from being at work so I reheated
some Chinese food, had a few drinks and watched a movie. I went to
bed as the sun was coming up. I slept until around four in the
afternoon, like I usually would on a Saturday, then I woke up, had
some “breakfast” and tidied up the flat before it was time to go
and pick up Maxy.”

In Dennington a dog barked in the distance,
but Bonnie and Sally’s attention didn’t deviate from Dylan’s
tortured face.

“
Well, anyway, as soon as I
went outside that afternoon I knew something had happened. The
streets were empty - you guys know how it was. So I got on my
motorbike and rode to Maxy’s house as fast as I could. When I got
there it was just starting to get dark. I kicked the door in and
ran to her bedroom.”

Sally didn’t think that this strong man who
she was falling in love with, would be able to carry on. His face
crumpled and tears welled in his eyes, but he continued to speak in
a faltering, despairing voice.

“
She was on her bed
surrounded by her fluffy animals. Her mother … that fucking hideous
thing ... that beast … was on her… it was…beyond anything I could
ever imagine. It turned and looked at me. It might have smiled, I’m
not really sure about that because of all the blood.”

He made a choking sound as Sally came over
and took him in her arms. “I’m so sorry.”

Bonnie sobbed in the background as Dylan
finished his story. “I grabbed the closest thing I could find. I
think it was a coat-rack from the hallway, and I beat that thing
that had been my daughter’s mother to death with it. I didn’t hold
back. It tried to kill me too, but at that point I was crazier than
it was. It didn’t have a chance.”

Sally hugged him and began to understand his
pain and why he held such hatred for these creatures. He returned
her embrace fiercely as Bonnie came over to join them. After a few
moments of unity and compassion they released themselves from their
bond of grief and stood staring resolutely at the warehouse. Bonnie
was the first to speak.