Desolation Boulevard (28 page)

As Sally watched Bonnie’s face she felt sure
that the older woman was going to give Dylan a good tongue-lashing.
Instead, she shook her head tiredly and said, “Fine. I guess that
will have to do. My daughter’s name is Gabby, by the way.”

“
Yes. Until we find
Gabby.”

Dylan stood up and went to the edge of the
building and listened before cautiously poking his head around the
corner.

“
Do you think that’s a good
idea?” asked Sally, throwing Bonnie a concerned glance.

“
Hey, come and check this
out!” Dylan ordered, as the women pulled themselves wearily to
their feet.

The heat from the blaze warmed their faces
as they peered carefully around the corner to gauge the extent of
the damage they caused. It seemed their strategy had worked
perfectly. The building was burning savagely from the ground floor
and it was clear that the entire building, and its’ occupants would
be consumed within minutes. When they were sure that there would be
no more explosions, they gradually moved from their cover and stood
watching from a safe distance. At one point Sally asked the others
if they could hear screaming under the roar of the fire, but
neither Bonnie nor Dylan could confirm her notion. After a minute
or so watching the funeral pyre, they were about to leave when
Sally grabbed Bonnie’s arm and screamed, “Look!”

As she pointed to one of the boarded-up
windows on the first floor of the warehouse, it was obvious what
had attracted her attention. A large piece of plywood that had been
screwed onto the window to keep vandals out was vibrating as if
something or someone behind it was beating on it like drum.

“
Could they get up there?”
Dylan asked.

“
There must have been
stairs we didn’t notice,” said Sally. “Let’s get out of here just
in case.”

“
No, let’s just watch for a
minute. I’ll get my gun.”

Bonnie and Sally watched as the fire became
more intense, and when Dylan had returned with his gun, a corner of
the board in the first floor window was being forced away from the
frame, as it was pushed by the feeders inside, as they attempted to
preserve their abominable lives. They stood and stared at the piece
of plywood as it flexed acutely from pressure being applied to it
from inside, and it was becoming clear that it would only take one
or two more shoves for it to break from its’ anchors and plummet to
the street below.

“
Be ready to run for the
car,” Dylan ordered as they waited for the drama before them to
unfold.

Then, without warning, the piece of ply
finally gave way as the zombies heaved with one final effort,
sending the makeshift window and three of the creatures flying
headlong into the pavement below. Sally, Bonnie and Dylan didn’t
hear the thud of their skulls as they collided with the unforgiving
concrete, but they saw thick streamers of blood squirt for metres
as one of the zombies’ heads popped like an overripe watermelon. As
they looked back up to the window, they could see, silhouetted
against the raging furnace behind them, scores of creatures crammed
at the window searching for fresh air and a possible escape route.
It only took a couple of seconds for the inevitable to occur,
however, when the crush of zombies at the window became too much,
and the ones closest to the opening were forced out, falling to
their death on the street below.

The first few creatures that hit the ground
died immediately from the impact, but once there was a pile of six
or seven bodies under the window, sudden death became less certain.
The next few that jumped (or were pushed) received a softer landing
and lay twitching on top of the pile with brain injuries or spinal
damage, while others threw themselves around grotesquely as they
tried to stand up and run away on broken legs. Dylan had to shoot
two of the creatures when it looked as if they might escape with
only minor injuries, but after there were around fifteen zombies
dead on the ground below the window (the last few covered with
blackened, blistered skin) the flood of bodies stopped as fire
consumed the building, sending plumes of dark smoke high into the
midday sky.  As they walked away from the burning building
towards the car, nobody mentioned the smell, which reminded them
all of an afternoon barbecue.

They climbed into the car and Dylan started
the engine as Bonnie and Sally swigged from their water bottles. He
pulled away from the destruction behind them and started to shift
up through the gears; grateful to be leaving the horrors of the
zombie massacre behind and moving forward once more. But just as he
turned the corner back into the main street he was forced to stop
by a group of around ten figures that were standing in the middle
of the road, about forty metres in front of the car.

“
Shit!” said Sally, who was
in the seat beside Dylan. “Marauders?”

“
No,” he replied. “I don’t
think so.”

As Bonnie and Sally looked at the unexpected
crowd ahead, Dylan drove the car slowly forward until he was about
ten metres away from them, and then eased his foot onto the brake
and turned off the ignition. As he wound down his window, he heard
Bonnie click the safety of her gun off behind him and nodded in
silent approval. As they studied the group, it was obvious that
they were not marauders. They stood in the middle of the road,
expressionless and unmoving, as their leader, a man in his fifties,
with a scruffy beard and dark circles under his eyes, approached
the car. He stopped about two metres away and addressed Dylan, who
had remained in the car.

“
What happened over there?”
he asked, motioning toward the warehouse.

Dylan looked at the crowd, who hadn’t moved,
then back at the man before answering. “We found a nest of zombies
in a warehouse. We set fire to it and killed them.”

The man looked behind him towards his party
and nodded his head. There was no reaction from the group, except
perhaps for a shuffling of feet from a few of them.

“
We knew about them,” the
man said quietly as he turned his attention back to
Dylan.

“
Oh.”

“
We think it’s best to
leave them alone. They seem to be on their way somewhere. It’s
safer to just let them go.”

“
Well, they’re dead now, so
no problem, right?” said Dylan, with a slightly a puzzled
expression on his face.

“
Maybe,” the man replied,
as he turned his back on the car and walked slowly back to his
ragged group of followers.

Dylan, Bonnie and Sally watched him walk
away and then looked at each other in disbelief.

”
What a bunch of weirdos!”
Sally blurted.

“
Absolutely”, agreed Dylan.
“Let’s get out of here.”

As Dylan started the ignition, the group
split into two as he drove slowly between them, and away from the
town of Dennington.

“
I don’t even want to think
what that was about,” he said.

“
We are living in very
interesting times,” said Sally, shaking her head.

“
Are we going straight to
Millfield now?” asked Bonnie, leaning over from the back seat as
Dylan put his foot on the accelerator.

He turned and said, “Theoretically, we might
make it today, but if we get held up or have any doubts about
getting there before nightfall, there’s another town we can stop in
and make camp for the night if we need to.”

“
What’s it called?” Sally
asked.

“
Carswell,” replied
Dylan.

“
Sounds good,” said Bonnie.
“Let’s go.”

Chapter 48

When Matt spray-painted the directions to
“Two Hills” on the doors of the Police Station, it never occurred
to him that he was putting himself and the girls in danger. Now his
well-meaning attempt to reach out to other survivors had backfired,
and he felt responsible. The ten-minute trip back from Millfield
had felt like hours, such was his feeling of dread, so when Matt
reached the farm he stopped the truck as close as he could to the
house and jumped down from the cab, before sprinting frantically
towards the front door. When he was halfway across the yard, the
screen swung open with a squeak and Montana stepped out, with Gabby
not far behind.

“
Hello,” she said. “You
weren’t gone long.”

“
Is everything okay?” he
blurted. “Have you seen anyone?”

“
No. Should we
have?”

Matt’s relief was profound as he answered.
“No. I guess not. I think someone’s been in town, so we’ll need to
keep an eye out until the fence is finished.”

He was puffing as he followed the girls up
the stairs of the front veranda, and as he entered the house he
turned around and surveyed the tree line in the distance. When he
was sure that he couldn’t see anything unusual, he headed
indoors.

They all sat at the kitchen table while Matt
described the emptiness he’d found in town, and the smashed doors
of the Police Station. Montana was relieved that the feeders had
moved on, but was equally concerned about the possibility of
hostile survivors in the vicinity. They agreed that it would be
best if they all stayed together until the fence was finished, and
that they needed to be extra vigilant at all times. The concern on
Gabby’s face was clear, but after Montana hugged her and told her
that she was safe, the girl cheered up and asked if Montana would
take her to the classroom to read.

“
Good idea,” said Matt, as
he stood up and headed to the front door. “I have a fence to
finish.”

-

By the time Matt had concreted the last
metal post into the ground, it was late in the afternoon and he was
getting tired. If everything went according to his plans, he would
have the wire fixed to the supports by this time tomorrow
afternoon, and the farm would be relatively secure. Providing they
could get through tonight without incident, he felt that tomorrow
they would be able relax somewhat, and begin to rebuild their
lives. As he walked towards the large arc lights that had been set
up at the front of the house the day before, Matt gazed around the
farm, wondering if the person (or people) who had smashed the doors
of the Police Station were hiding and watching them. He tried to
convince himself that it was just a wanton act of vandalism, but
after the events of the last week he knew that anything was
possible. He started up the generators and light flooded the area
in front of the farm. He picked up his gun and went inside to see
what the girls were up to.

Montana had lit the fire and was in the
kitchen peeling some potatoes at the kitchen table while Gabby sat
beside her, drawing in a large pad. Matt sat down and asked, “What
are you drawing sweetheart?”

“
I’m drawing a picture of
mummy. See?” She held it out for Matt and Montana.

“
It’s very
good.”

“
It’s a present for when
she gets here.”

Matt and Montana looked at each other, not
sure how to deal with the lie they believed they were cultivating.
Finally Matt spoke, “Gabby honey, as soon as the fence is finished
we can look for mummy, but maybe she’ll be too hard to find. Lots
of people have turned into those feeders, and maybe your mummy has
too, sweetheart. You know we might never find her.”

The little girl looked at Matt and replied
confidently, “No she’s okay. She’s on her way here with some
friends. She’s coming home.”

“
How can you know
that?”  Montana asked, obviously shaken.

“
I don’t know,” she said.
“I just know things now. Maybe I dream them. I’m not sure, but I
know mummy’s coming here.”

It was Matt’s turn to ask a question. “Do
you know when she’ll arrive?”

She thought about it for a
second, and then responded tentatively, “No … I don’t know that. I
just know she’s
trying
to come. It might be hard to get here.”

Suddenly, Montana stood up and took the
peeled and cut potatoes to the saucepan of water, which was boiling
on the stove. “Come on Gabby, let’s get dinner on. I’m
starving!”

“
Me too”, said the girl,
seeming to forget about her mother for the moment.

After dinner was eaten and they’d all worked
together to clean up the kitchen, Matt and Montana tucked Gabby
into bed for the night and went to the front veranda, where they
sat with cups of coffee and stared into the brightly lit forest.
The low-pitched drone of the light’s generators provided the
backdrop for their conversation as the night turned cool. Montana
sat beside Matt with a blanket wrapped around her, in contrast to
Matt, who was still wearing a sweat-stained t-shirt from earlier in
the day.

“
Aren’t you cold?” she
asked.

“
No, not really. I love
this weather, when the days get shorter and it’s cold enough to
light the fire. I have more energy to get jobs done around the
farm. Mum loved it too. She used to say she felt more civilised
during the colder months.”

He looked at Montana. “I wonder what that
means now? Civilised, I mean.”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
Well, think of all of the
things that we’ve lost since the event. Cities, movies, books, the
Internet, TV, sport, restaurants, shopping - it’s all gone. All of
that effort and endeavour is just history - something that humans
did for a few thousand years. It’s all about survival now, isn’t
it? All of that other stuff is just so much … what? … Luxury, I
suppose. Nobody will have time for those things now. Maybe there
aren’t enough survivors left to even try.”