Don't Look Back (Warders of Earth) (24 page)

“Dan,” I murmured softly. “Have you got your computer on?”

“Sure thing, Sis.”

I smirked.
That’s my bro.
As soon as Garroway had started talking about the composition of the meteorites which weren’t really meteorites, I’d notice Dan had pulled the blanket back over his head. A second later I’d seen a faint tell-tale blue glow under the cover. “Is he telling the truth?”

“I think so. The government has changed their tune and the latest press release advises Earth is under attack. They’re saying this was only the first strike and that military installations and service suppliers like power stations were targeted. I guess with the Air Force not far from us, that’s why we were hit too.”

“Makes sense.” I rubbed my gritty eyes, tired to the bone. “Anything else?”

Dan popped out from under the blanket, tousled haired and with white-rimmed frightened eyes. I wanted to pull him into my arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. Somehow I knew he wouldn’t believe me.

Dan said, “They’re telling everyone to stay inside their houses and lock their doors or remain in the public shelters until the all-clear is given. They’re saying another strike is anticipated within forty eight to seventy two hours.”

“Then he’s telling the truth. Or most of the truth. If there are aliens out there, then Dan, we need to make contact before the next round of those pseudo meteors. We need to find out their agenda. It also sounds to me like an invasion could be imminent. Any ideas?”

My brother shook his head.

“I can’t think of anything either.” I sighed. “Better turn your computer off and save your battery life. Let’s keep this news to ourselves for a bit, huh?”

“Sure, Sis.”

“I need you to stay here and look after Mum.” Giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, I straightened and headed for the rungs. Alex was hauling himself over the top of the pit when I reached the side wall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” barked Garroway.

“I need to pee. Or are you going to suggest I use a bucket?” I asked sweetly.

“I’ll come with you,” Em said quickly, flinging off her blanket.

“I want some time alone.” What I really wanted was some privacy to check my messages. Taking no notice of Garroway’s muttered growl and Em’s sagging mouth, I climbed the ladder.

Once on top of the workshop floor, I scanned the area. Shay and Alex were about to open the front door. Maybe Alex heard me, I don’t know but he spun around and swept his narrow-eyed gaze over me. I gave an airy wave of my hand and headed for the restroom located at the far end of the workshop.

I used the facilities then washed my face, grimacing at my reflected image in the mirror. I didn’t think anything would ever be able to save my lank-looking hair and the shadows beneath my eyes made me look totally gothic.

After a peak under the stalls to make certain I was alone, I dug out my mobile. My head throbbed as I concentrated on the words until they made sense.

My hands shook. My phone clattered to the floor.

I scooped it up and re-read the text.

Urgent. Need your help. At Nonnas.

I pocketed my mobile and paced the small room. The last time I’d gone against everyone’s wishes my father had died. If I ducked out now…

Jeeze.

I tugged at my hair.

Air-borne virus

Highly contagious.

What to do.

‘Need your help.’

Garroway had seemed pretty damn positive I’d be immune. It made sense in a far-reaching kind of way. The research lab could have had access to a shitload of alien technology, not just genetics. And they would have wanted to give us every chance possible of staying alive.

Still, it was a huge risk. I could be clutching at straws.

But if I was quick, Alex, Mum, Garroway…they’d barely realise I was gone before I was back again.

I couldn’t see how what I intended to do would hurt anyone. No one would be with me. My family were safe in the workshop for the moment. All I had to do was get over to the other side of town and bring Marnie and her family back here before the next strike.

Before they caught the disease.

Then I’d leave them quarantined inside this workshop while I headed off to do whatever my thing was with those aliens. I’d bargain to keep my family and friends safe. Hell, I’d bargain with the devil if it would keep
everyone
safe.

On the one quick trip to the bathroom Garroway had allowed everyone last night, I’d noticed the manhole above the toilet cubicle. This was the only way out of the workshop if you discounted the front door and sure as eggs were eggs, Alex would wait outside for at least ten minutes to check I hadn’t followed him.

The manhole was my only option.

I knew this idea wouldn’t go down well, especially after what happened the last time I charged off on my own agenda. But I couldn’t abandon my friend.

Closing the toilet seat, I stepped onto it and stood on tip-toe. My palms pressed against the gyprock and shoved. It lifted. Carefully and as quietly as possible, I slid the square panel over to the side revealing the darkness of the roof cavity highlighted by the sunlight slicing through the cracks in the tiles. This part of the building which housed the office, workers’ small lunchroom and the restrooms was part of the original service station that used to stand on this site. That meant, this section of the roof was covered in old tiles unlike the new workshop which had solid colourbond sheeting.

A perfect escape route.

My fingers closed over the edge of the hole. I paused and willed the sickness churning in my belly to abate. By placing my right foot onto the cistern, I used it to lever myself through the gap and up into the roof.

A quick glance showed the rafters and I took care to balance my weight on the closest one so I wouldn’t fall through the ceiling. The roof sloped in a steep angle to meet the outside wall.

It was hot inside the roof cavity, the air thick with dust that tickled my nose. With every breath I inhaled the distinctive musty stench of mice droppings. Scared I’d sneeze and alert Garroway, I breathed through my mouth while I pulled aside a sufficient number of old tiles to make a wide enough space for me to crawl through. Three of my fingertips were bleeding by the time I finished.
How long have I been here?
My imagination took flight, thinking any moment Garroway would storm inside and haul me back to the pit.

Teeth clenched, I wriggled through the space I’d created and landed on my belly on the tiles. My weight and gravity took control.

I slid.

Scrabbling with my fingers I desperately sought a finger hold.

My legs slipped over the edge of the roof, my body followed. About to do a nose dive to the ground I found the gutter and grabbed.

That was close. 

Heart pumping, my momentum stopped, I peered at what lay underneath me.

Dirt.

Roughly a six to eight foot drop.

I can do this.

Holding my breath, I let go and fell.

Legs bent at the knees I landed on my feet and stumbled forward a few paces until I regained my balance. I let out a noisy gust of air and bounded forward, racing round the side of the building to stop near the front and check the street for any sign of danger.

All clear.

No shouting or yelling. Now to make good my escape.

I broke into a ground-eating jog, pacing my breathing, mentally thanking Mum for all those countless hours of training. As I ran, I took in the destruction wrought by the meteorite strikes. The industrial buildings on both sides of the street were mounds of rubble, a few were burning, spewing black smoke into the sky. Some had disappeared entirely leaving nothing behind but craters in the earth. Broken bricks, sheets of iron, split timber, paper and rubbish formed a blanket over the tarmac. Melted and mangled metal had re-formed into un-recognisable shapes. An iron pylon stood on its end, embedded in the cabin of a bull-dozer.
Jeeze I hope there hadn’t been anyone inside.
At the next intersection I took the road to the left past residential homes or what remained of them.

Everywhere I looked, it was if I’d been transplanted into an apocalypse movie.

As soon as I thought I’d put enough distance between me, the workshop and Alex should he decide to scout around for me, I stopped and examined the houses surrounding me. I realised I was in the street where Em lived. The pavements were empty of people apart from one cat that sat in the middle of the road about three hundred metres ahead. As far as I could tell, the townsfolk had obeyed the government’s instructions and had locked themselves inside their homes.

Wise move.

Curtains twitched and faces appeared in windows checking out what I was up to. Many windows had pieces of wide timber planks hammered across them. A few houses wore blue tarps like lop-sided hats over the holes in their roofs yet to be fixed. Upended garden furniture was strewn in broken pieces here and there in front yards. The twisted remains of a kid’s trampoline were jammed up beside the side of another house.

Fallen trees and branches and other debris had been piled in mounds on the footpath, ready to be cleared away by the Council trucks I now knew would never arrive.

No sound of modern technology.

No televisions, no music blared, no car horns or engines.

No galahs or cockatoos screeched from the almost leafless gum trees.

No dogs barked.

It was downright creepy.

A door to the house opposite from where I stood opened and a man appeared, a shotgun in his hands.

“Move along,” he bellowed. “We’ve got nothing for ya.” From behind him came the sound of a crying baby.

I lifted my hand in acknowledgement and walked quickly down the road. Over to the east the sun had risen well above the horizon and shone down through the thin layer of grey haze blanketing that part of the sky.

Over to the west of town, smoke lay low and black indicating buildings still burned.

And the west of town was where Marnie’s grandmother lived.

Chapter 15 – AFTERMATH

As I neared the tabby and white cat, it meowed. Startled I veered onto the road and stopped in front of it.

“Bartholomew, is that you?” I tried to pick it but the terrified cat took off and disappeared into a nearby garden.

Thinking that Em would be happy to be reunited with her mother’s pet, I raced after it. I crouched down and pushed aside a crimson fuchsia bush and spotted the animal scrunched against the paling fence.

“Oh, please, please. Help me, please.”

The quavery voice coming out of nowhere made me jump. The cat hissed and fled. I pushed branches aside and stood up. Mrs Wilson, who’d lived in this town since she was born eighty years ago, stood clad in her rose patterned nightie within the confines of her walker. She held her hands out in a beseeching manner. Blood oozed brightly from a deep gash on her left cheek and there were raw scratches along her arms.

“Mrs Wilson?”

Tears tracked down her wrinkled, bloodied face.

“Oh, it’s you Tara dear.” A sob and a hiccup escaped. With swimming rheumy faded eyes, the old lady gazed at me and said, “It’s Henry. He’s trapped. I can’t get him out. I couldn’t bear it, if he left me alone.”

My phone vibrated; reminding me that time was slipping past.

I looked toward the west and the smoke. Then back at the old woman who was nearing her century. Time was not on my side but I couldn’t leave her. I had to help.

“Come on then, I’ll see what I can do and then I’ll clean up your injuries.”

Taking hold of one side of the walker, I helped Mrs Wilson turn round and walk haltingly up the garden path and down the side of the house into the back yard.

“He’s under that tin and heap of branches.” The old lady pointed. Sure enough, after she spoke we both heard a rustling movement.

“You wait here, Mrs Wilson.” Leaving the old woman on the path, I crossed the yard and squatted down near a large pile of debris. I heaved aside the uppermost fig tree branch, which felt like it weighed a tonne. Lifting the sheet of iron beneath, I dragged it off then stared in dismay at the large stone birdbath that had been blown over and lay on top of another pile of branches. This could take me all day. 

“Need some help?” piped, of all people, Crystal.

I couldn’t help but gape at her while I wiped sweat from my upper lip with my forefinger. “What are you doing here?”

“Friendly as always, I see, Tara.” Crystal sighed loudly and walked over in her five-inch, scarlet-red stilettos. Immaculately dressed as if about to address a board meeting or attend a public meeting, in her navy-blue sleeveless linen dress, she raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows. “What I always do, looking out for the people of my town.”

“Your father’s town, you mean.”

Crystal waved aside the correction. “What’s the problem?”

“Henry’s trapped.” We both knew who Henry was and how much he meant to Mrs Wilson, so I didn’t need to explain anything more.

“I see.” Crystal gazed down at the mound. “We better hurry then. Henry’s almost as old as Mrs Wilson.” She gave a strained smile. Amazing. Bending down, she slipped off her shoes and handed them to the old lady.

I wondered whether Crystal had been substituted for a different person sometime during the night. I was thinking along the lines of that old move
‘The Body Snatches’.
Still staring at her with ripe suspicion, I muttered, “If you take this end and I grab the other, between the two of us, I’m certain we can lift this thing.”

Without responding, Crystal followed my instructions.

“Ready?”

Crystal nodded.

“On three then. One, two, three.” Knees bent, back straight, I pulled. Arms straining, together we crab-walked the birdbath out of the way.

“Wow, that was heavy.”

“You’re telling me.” Crystal rubbed her arms.

We quickly grabbed the remaining branches and tossed them aside to finally reveal a quivering, brown mass of dog curled up in a ball under a make-shift cave of broken bricks and tin. Two, terrified brown eyes peered up at us through a tangle of hair. Henry lifted his head and whimpered.

“Careful.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” protested Crystal as she felt his limbs, spine and around his head. “I can’t see any blood and he’s not flinching when I touch him.” She looked at me and nodded. “I think he’s okay.” She scooped her hands under his belly and gently lifted him to his feet.

I grinned, feeling a bit choked at this piece of good news. “You seem to know what you’re doing,” I offered by way of an olive branch.

“I run a rescue centre for animals out on the family farm.”

“Seriously?”
Yeah, she definitely must have had some kind of personality implant.

“Surprised, huh? I keep it quiet. I don’t want to taint my image.”

I snorted. “What? The image of a stuck-up snob?”

“Exactly.” Crystal stood up, a panting, happy dog in her arms.

“Oh, Henry, Henry,” cried Mrs Wilson. “Is my boy all right?”

“I think so, Mrs Wilson.” Crystal crossed over to the old lady who passed trembling hands over the dog’s head. Henry, licking madly, wagged his tail.

Hands in pocket, I followed, still bemused by this new side of Crystal. Who knew that she was a decent sort under all that bitchiness? “Let’s get you inside, Mrs Wilson and we’ll clean you up.”

“No, she can’t stay here alone, Tara. I’ll take her and Henry back to my place.” Leaning close, Crystal whispered, “We have a fully provisioned bomb shelter underground. They’ll be safe enough there.”

“Seriously?” My mouth dropped open.

“Catching flies?” she drawled before rolling her eyes. “Yes and if you mention it to anyone, like those bastard soldiers, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. Come on, help me get these two into my car then you’d better be on your way.”

“Crystal.” I hesitated while I searched her face. “What do you know?”

“Not a great deal.” Crystal’s thin face tightened. “My parents are neck deep in gambling debts. They turned a blind eye and even assisted members of some terrorist group to infiltrate the town one by one over the past few years. That’s why Dad had the shelter built. We’ve known something bad was coming but didn’t know that it would take this form.” She gazed up at the sky for a moment. Her mouth twisted bitterly. “I don’t know what or who you are, but I do know they’re searching for people like you. You know, ones with mysterious pasts and who don’t quite fit in. Soldiers are patrolling the streets using loudspeakers to urge anyone with knowledge of anyone acting suspiciously to come forward. They said some rubbish about being spared if we ratted.”

I nodded slowly. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll run inside and pack a few things for Mrs Wilson.”

“Good idea. I’ll meet you at my car.”

Five minutes later, I was buckling a grateful Mrs Wilson into the passenger seat of Crystal’s hot-pink coupe and settling Henry on her lap.

“Tara. I know you’re in the centre of this shit.” Leaning across the old lady, Crystal stared through the open window. “This is why I’ve never liked you. I was afraid of the trouble you’d bring this town.”

“How…?”

Crystal interjected swiftly, “No time to explain. It looks like we could be facing the end of the world. But these people are my people. There’s been Chambers here since the soil was first turned and I intend to keep it that way. And you...if you are one of those mutants the soldiers are looking for, you do whatever you can to fix this mess.”

“I intend to.”

A faint smile lightened Crystal’s drawn features. “Good luck. I have a feeling you’re going to need it. Oh, and give Alex a French kiss for me.”

As if that would ever happen!
When I kissed him, it would be for me. One last wave of bright emerald-green nails and Crystal drove off.

It wasn’t until her car turned the corner and disappeared from view, that I shook myself out of my dazed funk.

You think you know someone, then wham! They turn inside out.
I smiled, feeling lighter, at the knowledge that in the coming days the people of Wallaby Creek wouldn’t be alone.

My gaze fixed toward the west, I ran.

***

The muscles in my thighs and calves were burning by the time I jogged down the street where Marnie’s grandmother lived. My eyes stung and watered from the low hanging smoke. Ash and embers covered the ground reinforcing the aura of a post-apocalyptic setting.

This was where the yobos, considered to be the dregs of our town, lived, evident by the number of cars in various stages of repair or in the act of being dismantled in front yards. Also by the fibro cladding and rusting tin roofs of the much smaller sized homes. Like the street where I lived, the house blocks were big and the roadway wide with no concrete curbs or guttering to deal with run-off water. The fencing was composed of barbed wire running between waist-high, metal star posts. A small group of stringy-looking sheep with muddy wool huddled together, their heads drooping toward the ground as if worn out by fear.

Poor things. A vision of a land where nothing walked, crawled or flew rose in my mind. And where overhead a metallic, strange-shaped spacecraft hovered.

It made my skin crawl.

Not if I could help it.

I slowed down and approached the front of the house with caution. Breathing deeply, I sucked in smoke filled air, wincing as my lungs struggled to find the oxygen in the filth I’d inhaled. I broke into a fit of coughing and wheezing.

The smoke came from a furniture warehouse set toward the back of the wide block to my right, where flames ate away at what was left of the two storey building. A discarded fire hose lay on the cement like a long, winding snakeskin. There were no signs of any emergency vehicles.

Or anyone else for that matter.

A low rumble of an engine in the distance broke the tense silence. By the sound of it, a truck, possibly two.

The Mundos Novus Force?

A car roared round the corner.

Still hacking up my lungs, I raced towards the house. 

I fled down the path to pound on the front door. Behind me, the car braked with a hail of pebbles and dirt.

I pounded again.

Car doors slammed.

Booted footsteps smacked against cement.

I spun round and raised my chin as Alex stopped about six centimetres from my nose.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snarled through clenched teeth.

“Helping my friends.”

His hand closed around my upper arm and he jerked me forward until I was mashed up right and close against the long, toned hardness of his body. Instantly, my tummy muscles dissolved and my blood thrummed slow and sweet through my veins. Looking up into his furious face, I moistened my lips. Given the situation we were in, what I was thinking about was pretty crazy. What would he do if I kissed him?

As if he’d read my thoughts, heat blazed in his eyes turning the cold fog into hot steam.

The door behind me jerked open smacking me in the back.

“Tara!”

Uncertain whether I was disappointed or relieved the moment had been interrupted, I pulled out of Alex’s grasp and turned to Marnie. I practically fell into her arms. “Marnie. Thank heavens you’re okay. I’ve been so worried.”

We hugged.

When Marnie stepped back to allow us entrance into the house, I looked her over carefully. No signs of obvious trauma, no injuries and although her jeans and white tee-shirt were wrinkled they looked clean. Marnie’s burnt honey-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the expression in her eyes serious as she looked past Tara at Alex and then beyond to Shay leaning against the car.

“Thank you so much for coming here. But why did you bring these guys? Do you have any idea what’s going on? We saw soldiers on our way into town.”

I shooed her inside. “I’ll bring you up to speed but first, I’d kill for some water.”