Forager (27 page)

Ken, Councillor Okada’s nephew, didn’t say a word as he drove us back towards Newhome. Sullen to the point of being discourteous, he just stared ahead as he navigated a what was once a major highway. A hundred years of neglect had left it in a serious state of disrepair. The surface was cracked, pitted and overgrown with weeds and wild grass. 

Considering he couldn’t see a thing beyond the range of the headlights, I wished Ken’d slow down a bit. Once he’d almost blindsided the rusting wreck of a truck abandoned on the side of the road, and another time he came close to trashing the car’s suspension thanks to a large dip in the road. I got the impression he hadn’t exactly signed up to take us back home.

I was sitting in the back left passenger seat with my right arm around Nanako, who was sleeping soundly with her head on my shoulder. Seriously, it was so not fair that she could sleep anywhere, at anytime.

I’d spent the first few hours of the drive alternating between looking out the driver’s window, squeezing my eyes shut and grimacing from the throbbing pain in my head.

Getting shot in the head, even if only a glancing blow, can do that to you. I had the late Lieutenant King to thank for that. All I tried to do was stop him from blowing us all sky high with a hydrogen bomb he’d smuggled into Hamamachi, and then he went and shot me. He’d have killed me, too, if Michal hadn’t attacked him and thrown off his aim.

That thought sent pangs of heart-rending sorrow sweeping through me. Michal had saved my life, but at the cost of his own. I wondered how I’d survive in Newhome without him. His friendship and wisdom had been a beacon of light in that oppressive, dark place.

Another wave of stabbing pain shot through my head and brought my thoughts back to the present. The Hamamachi paramedics had given me only minimal medical attention, and I was paying for that now, but the thumping headaches were the least of my problems. The wound had started to burn terribly a while ago, and not long after that came the fever. For the past hour I alternated between chills and a feverish sleep filled with nightmares.

The car suddenly bounced over a particularly large pothole, slamming me into my seatbelt and waking Nanako.

“What time is it?” she asked sleepily as she stifled a graceful yawn.

“Almost six,” I replied through clattering teeth.

“Ethan, you’re shivering!” she exclaimed, coming fully awake. She placed a small, warm hand gently on my head. “And your wound’s on fire – how do you feel?”

“Never felt better,” I assured her.

“Doofus – you probably feel like death warmed up, yeah? When are you ever gonna tell me the truth when I ask you how you are?” she scolded me, though her expression showed nothing but loving concern.

Ken interrupted our conversation when he unexpectedly brought the battered old 4WD to a complete stop. "This is as far as I take you," he announced gruffly.

"What are you talking about, Ken-san? We haven't even reached Melbourne's outer suburbs yet," Nanako said.

A glance out the window confirmed Nanako spoke the truth. We were on a road winding through fields of gumtrees, untamed bushes and wild grass. Not far ahead, the road ended at an intersection with what was once a major thoroughfare, by the look of it.

"Ahead is the Maroondah Highway. Follow it left and you'll be in Lilydale." Ken turned towards Nanako and I, his face partially visible in the light given off by the glowing dashboard.

"Councillor Okada said you'd take us close to Newhome. You can't drop us off here!" Nanako protested.

"There's no way I'm driving through Skel infested ruins. So get out! All of you."

"Ethan's wound is infected and requires medical attention. You have to get us to Newhome!"

"Not my responsibility," Ken replied, his tone acerbic. "Now get out of my car."

"That's absolutely out of the question. We can’t walk fifty-plus kilometres to Newhome with Ethan in this condition!" Nanako pulled out her phone and thumbed it unlocked. "Let's see what Councillor Okada has to say about this."

A gun suddenly appeared in Ken's hand. "He's not going to say anything because he's never going to hear about it. Now hand over the phone."

"How can you do this to me, Ken?" Nanako asked, clearly shocked. She glanced at me, hesitated, and then added, " we've known each other since we were kids."

Ken pointed the gun at my leg and cocked the trigger. "Give me the phone and get out or so help me, I'll put a hole in your husband's leg. Let's see how well he can walk then."

Even in my feverish state I could tell Ken wasn't kidding. I had no desire to have a hole in my leg as well as my chest and my head, so I opened the car door and stumbled outside. The early morning air was crisp and cold, causing me to shiver more violently.

I saw Nanako hand over her phone and then she, David and Shorty, hopped out of the car as well.

"I don't care how long it takes, Ken, but I will find a way to tell Councillor Okada what you've done to us tonight," Nanako said before she slammed the door shut.

"I need a translation, what’s that guy’s problem?" Shorty asked as Ken did a U-turn and sped back the way we'd come. "Did one of you guys fart?"

"Shorty," I groaned.

"'Cause if David let one rip, I wouldn't blame him."

I'd forgotten my friends couldn't understand Japanese and hence didn't know what had just gone down. "He didn't want to drive through Skel-infested ruins," I said through clattering teeth.

"Well, look at that, he's got more brains than we have."

"So he just dumps us here?" David exclaimed as he took off his jacket and draped it around my shoulders. "Good grief, Jones, you're shivering like a leaf."

My strength gone, I sat on the road and wished the nightmare was over.

"His wound's infected," Nanako explained as she tugged on my right arm. "Come on Ethan, you can't sit there."

"I need to lie down."

"Just a little longer and you can. Now come on! Back on your feet!" She pulled me up and helped me get my arms into David's jacket. I wondered how long before this chest wound would heal. Of course, King thumping the fresh wound with his pistol didn't exactly advance the healing process.

"So what do we do now? We're not going to travel far with Ethan like this," David said as he wrapped his arms around his body in a vain attempt to get warm. A hundred years ago, before the world was virtually obliterated by nuclear weapons, this time of year was called summer in Australia. Not sure what season you'd call it now, or if we even had recognisable seasons anymore.

"We need to wash his wound and change the bandages so he can beat the infection," Nanako said as she peered into the surrounding darkness. "Let's head into Lilydale to look for something we can boil water in, and for something we can use as clean bandages."

"Finding some old kettles or saucepans shouldn't be too hard, but clean bandages? In one hundred year old ruins?" David asked.

"We can tear our jackets into strips and boil them if necessary," my wife suggested.

"And where's the water coming from?" Shorty asked.

"There's a stream about three kilometres from here, running through the middle of Lilydale," Nanako answered.

"You've been here before?" David asked.

"This is where I met Ethan, actually," she said, smiling wistfully.

"Is that where we are?" I asked between clattering teeth. I could remember meeting Nanako, but thanks to this blasted amnesia, the details were still somewhat sketchy.

"Sure is," she said.

I noticed the eastern horizon was slowly brightening. Dawn had come. "We need to get going. We don't want to be traipsing about in the open during daylight."

"Okay, let's go." Nanako put an arm around my waist to support me. I draped my right arm around her shoulders, but as I was a full head taller, the height differential did make it a tad difficult to walk in sync.

Shorty led the way and David brought up the rear, still trying to warm himself. I wondered if I should give him back his jacket.

Since it was still too dark to see clearly, we kept tripping and stumbling over the cracked and pitted road, which soon veered to the left and merged with a divided road, the Maroondah Highway. We kept on going.

As was my habit when in unfamiliar or dangerous situations, I began to shout in an ultrasonic pitch to check our surroundings with echolocation. That I could create and use ultrasonic echolocation in the same way that bats did was an ability given to me through illegal genetic engineering. What I didn’t count on, though, was that each shout magnified my piercing headache tenfold, causing me to give up straight away.

All the same, those few shouts had given me a surreal, eerie glimpse of our surroundings. Of a steep bank to the left of the road completely overgrown with trees, shrubs and ferns, of a median strip between the opposing lanes of the highway overrun by waist high wild grass. And of weathered rooftops of decrepit suburban houses perhaps two hundred meters further down the road.

"How you doing?" Nanako asked.

"Super."

"Just hang in there, okay?" She caressed the side of my face affectionately.

"I really, really need to lie down."

"We’ll bed you down in the first house we come to and then scout around for what we need."

I nodded. Encouraged by the thought of lying down, I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. "Nanako?"

"Yeah?"

"This so isn't how I envisioned spending our first week back together," I said.

"I know, right? But don't worry, we'll get you right as rain and then we can get back to Newhome," she promised.

As we walked, I became aware of the occasional odd sound coming from the other side of the highway. A twig snapping, branches forced aside, and furtive footfalls. Thinking I might be imagining the noises thanks to my fevered state, I didn't say anything at first but willed the noises to go away.

However, as we continued, the sounds of movement in the bush on the other side of the road became unmistakable. Someone was definitely shadowing us. The possibility that this person could be a degenerate Skel filled me with dread, and caused me to fear that every dark shape could be another one of the savages, waiting in ambush to spring out and nab us.

"We're being followed," I announced.

Shorty spun about, eyes wide with fear. "You sure?"

"They're on the other side of the road."

"I can't hear anything," Shorty said, confused. He didn't know about my biologically engineered enhanced hearing.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Is it Skel?" Nanako asked, her voice wavering as she tried in vain to see in the poor light.

I grimaced and shouted ultrasonically, but the pain knifed through my head with such intensity that I almost blacked out. All the same, my ability let me 'see' what was on the other side of the road. And what I saw made me blanch with fear as waves of anxiety coursed through me.

Forcing its way quietly through the bush on the other side of the road was a nightmarish apparition straight from the depths of hell. It was six-foot tall, carried a wicked rusted metal club, and was decked out head-to-foot in a suit of armour made from hardened human bones, which were joined together with resin and wires.

"Yes," I whispered, feeling suddenly helpless. We had no weapons, were in an unfamiliar place in the near dark, and I was in no condition to run let alone fight. What I would’ve given to have Michal with us right now.

"We've got to get out of here!" Nanako panicked. To be captured alive by Skel was a fate worse than death. "Ethan, which way do we go? They could have set an ambush anywhere."

Skel never travelled alone, so I tried to echolocate again to search our surroundings for the others, but the pain from the headache was so intense now that I just couldn’t make the attempt. "I'm sorry, my head hurts too much, I can't..."

Nanako peered up into my eyes in the pale dawn light, worried over my condition, and for our collective safety. She knew I could echolocate and was aware of the edge it could give us in this situation. Always knowing the location of your enemy lets you stay a step ahead of them.

"Let's get to the houses so we can lose them in there," David suggested. "We've got no chance out here."

"Okay, let's go," Nanako agreed.

Shorty darted ahead of us and disappeared into the trees and bushes that had taken over the nature strip.

With Nanako's arm around my waist and David's around my shoulder, they helped me through the overgrown nature strip and onto the sidewalk beyond, where a whole street of darkened, hauntingly quiet, rundown suburban houses lay before us.

I felt a sense of relief. If we could lose ourselves in the rabbit warren of Lilydale's houses, the Skel would hopefully never find us.

But I’d hoped too soon. In that same instant, Shorty's small figure came flailing backwards into us, knocking us to the ground like bowling pins. And in his wake, three spectral forms materialised out of the early morning fog. More hulking Skel followed, armed with crossbows and ugly clubs. They grabbed David, who had already gained his feet, and struck him back to the ground.

In the growing light, I could see the Skel's wild, bloodshot eyes glaring at us as I tried to cover my nose in a futile attempt to keep out their disgusting odour.

I glanced at Nanako, at her eyes wide with dread, and I was terrified. For myself, of course, but much more so for her. I couldn't bear the thought of the Skel working her to death as a slave.

The irony of our situation didn't escape me either. After waiting two torturous years, Nanako had finally found her way back to me, and in spite of my amnesia, we were reunited. But what was the point of her great perseverance and effort if it was to end like this?

This could not be happening!

Refusing to be cowed by our grotesque captors, I tried to stand, and succeeded with Nanako and David's help. Clutching his chest and grimacing in pain, poor Shorty only rose to a kneeling position.

"You okay, Shorty?" I asked.

"Never been better," he said while nursing his ribs.

Branches cracked and leaves rustled behind us and a fourth Skel – the one who had been following us – came to stand behind us.

"What've we got 'ere?" he asked his companions in a guttural voice. (A little side note here: literally every second word spoken by Skel is some form of expletive or another. And as I won't use such words myself – most of which would make the most hardened Custodian blush – there's no way I'm repeating them here.)

"Skips and Slant-eyes out for a morning stroll," replied the largest of the three in a rasping voice. Two twisting ram's horns adorned the sides of his human-skull helmet, lending him the appearance of the devil himself.

"The sheila's all dressed up with nowhere to go," grunted another as he stared down at Nanako, who was wearing her Akihabara anime-character outfit, with pink-fringed wig, black and blue zebra stripe top, pink lace dress, torn pink tights, and knee-high black boots.

Ram-Horns grabbed my jaw and turned my face from side to side as if he was examining livestock. With my fever, bandaged head, and arm in a sling, I must have been a real sight. "This Skip's one foot in the grave."

"Whack him, he's no use like that," said the brute behind us.

Ram-Horns pointed his crossbow at me but Nanako stepped between us before he could shoot.

"Don't you dare touch him," she hissed.

"Get out of the way, sheila," Ram-Horns shouted.

"Don't kill him!" she pleaded desperately. "I'll nurse him back to health and mark my words – he'll be the most productive worker you've got."

"Is that right?" Ram-Horns scoffed as he lowered the bow. He turned to his companions and laughed. "Sheila's got spunk. Just the way we like 'em."

"Time for some R&R, then," growled Guttural-Voice from behind me. He stepped closer and reached for Nanako.

"Me first," Ram-Horns declared as he grabbed Nanako's arm with his free hand and dragged her behind him towards the closest house. Although she was dwarfed by the massive skeleton-armoured beast, Nanako frantically tried to break out of his grip, kicking, punching, and tearing at his bone armour, even scratching his exposed neck.

Desperate to save her, I flung myself at the Skel and reached for his neck. Well, that's what I was trying to do. In reality, I did little more than stagger for him with my arm outstretched.

Another Skel battered me back towards Shorty and David with a swipe of the back of his bone-covered hand. The strike sent excruciating waves of pain shooting through my chest. Shorty caught me and helped me remain on my feet.

Ram-Horns kicked open the house's rotten wooden door, and Nanako, who was still clawing ineffectively at his bone armour, went into a frenzy, cursing him in a mixture of English and Japanese. "Let go of me, you stupid
baka
, you stupid
aho!
Hanashiteyo!
"

Ram-Horns suddenly let go of her and she fell to the ground in a heap.

"The sheila's a Jap!" he exclaimed to his companions in surprise.

"Yeah, so what?" Nanako said as she sprang back to her feet, staring defiantly up at the bone encased apparition towering over her.

"So you can rack off," he snarled.

"I can go?" she asked incredulously.

"That's what I said, ain't it?" he asked as he turned from her and stomped back towards the rest of us, clearly disappointed.

Even in my fevered state, I watched this scene in a state of stunned disbelief. How had the Skel recognised my wife was speaking Japanese? And more, why was he letting her go because of it?

Nanako stood there for a moment and then rushed back to my side and put her arm around my waist. For a moment, I considered telling her to go, but as there was no way she'd do it, I didn't waste my breath.

"You stupid or something? I said ya can go, so go already!" Ram-Horns shouted in her face.

"I'm not leaving my husband, or my friends," she shot back, although her voice was quivering.

"Suit yourself, stupid Jap," the Skel grunted before turning to Guttural-Voice. "Get the truck."

Feeling light-headed, I tried to sit, but Nanako held me tighter. "You gotta stay on your feet," she whispered, "Show them how sick you are and they'll kill you."

Knowing she spoke the truth, I gritted my teeth and took strength from her support, but I couldn't help but wonder if there was any point. If they dragged me into slavery, there'd be no medicine or respite to rest and recover. In such conditions, my infected wound would cause a slow, painful death. If they popped me now it'd be all over in an instant. But then I noticed Nanako and her determined expression, and I knew I had to keep going – for her, if not for me.

"Hey, how come the Skel said you could go 'cause you are Japanese? How did he even know you were speaking Japanese?" I whispered.

Nanako glanced at Ram-Horns and shook her head. "I really have no idea, Ethan, not a one."

We heard the truck long before we saw it, with its shockingly loud, roaring engine and constant backfires. And when it lumbered into view, I wasn’t sure what shocked me more, that degenerate savages such as the Skel had trucks, or that such a piece of absolute junk was still running. It was rusted through in more places than not, the engine was running on half cylinders, welded on cyclone-wire fencing formed the sides of the truck, and great clouds of black smoke billowed from the exhaust.

When the truck stopped, Ram-Horns and the two other Skel on foot grabbed us and shoved us towards it. "Get in the back," they barked.

My companions and I shared fearful glances. We knew that once we got on that truck, there would be no turning back, no opportunities for escape, and no future except to be worked to death.

"Look, thanks for the invitation," Shorty said to Ram-Horns solemnly, "but if it's all the same to you, I'll pass. Thanks."

The Skel grabbed Shorty by the upper arm and all but flung him into the truck.

"You don't have to get all
nasty
about it," Shorty said as he sprawled onto the dirt encrusted, rusted floor of the truckbed, bruising his knees and elbows.

David and Nanako quickly helped me get in and climbed in themselves. One Skel got in the cabin with Guttural-Voice, while Ram-Horns and the fourth got in the back of the truck with us. Not wanting to breathe in the truck's exhaust, we moved up to sit with our backs against the cabin.

With the sound of grinding gears, the driver carried out the most inept three-point-turn I'd ever witnessed and then drove west into Lilydale. The vehicle had no working headlights but the Skel apparently didn't care.

Nanako sat beside me and watched me with heartbreaking concern. She placed an arm around my shoulders in an attempt to cushion me from the battering me as we bounced around unmercifully in a truck with virtually no suspension.

My whole body ached from the fever and my throat was parched. I'd have given anything to get a drink right then. A glance at our captors glaring at us through the eyeholes of their modified skull helmets sent a shudder of revulsion through me. There was no hope of those monsters giving us a drink.

"What are we gonna do?" David shouted over the sound of the coughing, roaring engine.

"Sit back and enjoy the ride?" Shorty shouted back with false bravado, and we all knew it.

I wanted to encourage them to escape should they get a chance, but there was no way I could make myself heard over the truck, so I let the thought slide.

We fell silent after that, lost in our fearful deliberations. Nanako placed a slim, bronzed hand on my forehead, frowned, and spoke into my ear. "How you feeling now?"

"Not one of my better days," I admitted.

"You hang in there, you hear me?" she ordered.

I nodded.

I lost track of time as the truck rumbled and rattled down cracked and pot-holed roads, even slipping in and out of feverish half-sleep a few times. Dawn gave way to early morning, revealing a partially overcast sky. I wasn't sure in what direction we were headed, but as we went, I began to see signs of ever worsening devastation.

At first, it was just windows blown in, and I don't just mean some or most of them like in the eastern suburbs because of vandals and foragers – but all of them. Then came evidence of fires that had raged out of control. Terrible fires that had completely gutted houses, factories, and high-rise office towers and residential blocks. Vehicles were burnt out wrecks. Their rusting, wasted shells littering the roads.

The devastation got worse as we continued: roofs had collapsed, buildings were reduced to massive piles of rubble spewed halfway across roads, and the trees were either blacked husks or simply devoid of all foliage. Shrubbery and wild grass was still prevalent, however, sprouting out of every crack in the road and from every patch of exposed dirt as it reclaimed a land that had previously been stripped of all life.

I had never been here before, but I knew where we were. We were in the one place in Melbourne that no Newhome forager had ever set foot in. The one place we had purposely avoided for a hundred years. I also knew that should we continue in this direction we would eventually come across mile upon mile of absolute wasteland, where the buildings were so utterly destroyed that not even one brick remained upon another.

We were in the south-eastern suburbs. The place where the nuke struck a hundred years ago. What I didn't get was why the Skel were bringing us here?

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