The Afflicted: A Zombie Novel (22 page)

“Yeah, I just stopped while we eat
. We don’t want to go floating off in the wrong direction. There might be some sort of auto pilot thing but I don’t know where. I wouldn’t even know how to programme it.” He opened the fridge and rummaged around until he found a bottle of beer wedged at the back beside a jar of pickles. He slammed the bottle on the bench, taking the top off and took a long gulp, polishing off half the bottle in one go.

“You want any?
” he said, offering Amane the bottle.

“No thanks. I feel a bit off.” What with the rolling of the ship,
the events of the morning and a full stomach, she was beginning to feel jaded.

“I need some air. I think I might just go and sit out on the deck for a while. Okay?” She took a drink of water and pushed her plate away.

“Sure. Just be careful out there, it’s slippery.” He sensed there was still something on her mind but she clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

“I’ll get us on the move again,” he said
as she glided past him like a ghost. Out on the deck, the sea air instantly made her feel better. Events in the city pushed themselves to the back of her mind and she tried to look forward. You can’t undo what’s done, she thought. She said a prayer for Sasha and wished she could undo it. Amane listened to the hum of the engines as Evan sailed them onward to Tasmania. She sat down on the deck. They were on their way.

C
HAPTER SIXTEEN

The hours dripped by lazily as Amane lay on the deck under the shade of the ship’s bridge, occasionally nodding off, only to jerk awake when the dreams evolved into nightmares. Evan tried to keep his focus on navigating. Some of it seemed to be coming back to him from his previous life, whatever that was. The charts and compass felt familiar. Perhaps he had spent some time after all on his father’s boat.

‘
Lemuria’ was small, he recalled, much smaller than the ship they were on now. He tried to remember where his father, Tom, lived, but couldn’t bring up anything specific. All he was sure of was that his father lived in a small, quiet village, not one of the major towns. As the glimmering ocean swept by, he tried picturing ‘Lemuria’ in a harbour, to try and think where exactly they should head for. Evan forced his mind to freeze the only image he had of it so he could go deeper, to scour his perforated memory for clues as to where they should go.

The b
oats moored around his fathers were quite small, as was the harbour itself. The piers, as they were, were made of stones and bricks. There was no giant wharf jutting out to sea or a yacht club, no shopping centre like there had been in Melbourne. Beyond the harbour were a few small buildings, houses or shops dotted by a small road, flanked by green hills. One building stood out more than the rest. It was a shop of some sort made of red brick with a sign above the door. Evan tried to read the shop’s sign but the fuzzy image was out of focus.

He ransacked the cupboard where he had found the charts until he found a large map of Tasmania. Examining the coastline
, he read the names hoping one would jog a memory, starting with Devonport and working out, Burnie, Bridport, and Wynyard. They may as well have been on the moon. He traced his finger across the map and finally stopped over a place called Stanley.

“Stanley,” he said aloud. That was it! He remembered his children running up to him and his wife
. The dream he’d had at the airport hangar burst vividly back to life: Charlie, and Anna in that red dress running up to him. They had come from the red brick building and the sign above the door suddenly came into focus:

‘Tom’s Place’

It wasn’t a
shop, it was his father’s home! Evan picked up a bottle of water and drank down the last droplets inside. If his children were still trapped in the cabin, then he would free them soon. If, by some chance, they had gotten out and off the boat, he knew they wouldn’t go far. Tom would keep them safe at home. Evan was relieved he wouldn’t have to scour the island for them. He felt as if luck was turning his way once again and he smiled.

The sky outside
was fast growing dark. Clouds were billowing up and the sun was sinking. It would be night soon. Evan was keen to push on, especially knowing they were so close, but he also knew his own limitations and was not enthusiastic about sailing at night. He didn’t want to crash and drown them both in a pitch black, ice cold sea. He slowed the engines and thought for a few minutes on what to do. Ultimately, he decided to stop the ship completely and Amane came inside, shivering.

“What’s
up, why have we stopped?” she said.

“I hate to say it
, but I think we have to. I’m not confident of doing this at night.”

“
Okay, well fair enough. Sorry I can’t help.” She walked over to Evan and leant her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I needed some space earlier.”

“That’s okay,” said Evan
putting his arm around her. “What do you say I secure the ship and we try and relax for a bit? There’s not much else we can do until the sun comes up. If I could click my fingers and make it happen, we’d be there right now and Charlie and Anna would be here with me, but I’m no good to them dead. If I try to keep going, we’re going to end up as fish food or so far off course we’ll end up in the bloody Antarctic. Let’s eat, sleep, and be ready for tomorrow. The sun will be up early and we should be too. I don’t like to think how long my kids have been out there now without me.”

“I’ll see what I can rustle up to eat. Don’t beat yourself up, Evan.
They’ll be okay.”

Evan watched her go down the stairs.
Amane felt better as she went back into the galley. Her head felt lighter as she raided the cupboards for more food. She loaded up plates and bowls and carried it through to the bedroom, putting it on a small table. Evan appeared a few minutes later and helped her with the last of it.

“All sorted
upstairs,” he said. Amane sat down on a chair and started slicing some meat whilst Evan poked around the room. He had not had a chance to look around earlier.

“Bathroom’s next door,” she said
, whilst he investigated a drawer full of jewellery and trinkets. “Found some toothpaste but no toothbrushes. Better than nothing though.”

Evan swung open a wardrobe and examined the clothes hanging up
: bland shirts and boring skirts gave precious little information away about the ship’s owners, other than that they had very little adventure regarding fashion. Another cupboard revealed a stack of well read books. Romance novels stacked next to staid historical biographies. A photo lay on crumpled bed sheets and he picked it up. The family looked happy and he wondered if the child in the photo was Johanna. He set it back down and opened a cupboard above the bed.

“Jackpot.”
Smiling, Evan turned to Amane who was munching on some crisps, and he held out two bottles.

“Red or white?” he said
, cheerfully.

“
Ha! I’ll go find some wine glasses,” she said. “I think I saw some in the galley somewhere. We are not drinking out of plastic tumblers tonight.”

As they ate and si
pped wine, they talked. They skirted around the big issues. They’d both had enough of serious talk. Amane asked Evan about his children, sport, anything that might jolt a memory and help him. Mostly though, Evan let Amane do the talking. She told him about her life growing up in Japan, what Tokyo was like, why she hated sushi and loved steaks, why she lived in Australia now and how she was planning on studying before settling down. Evan didn’t once mention what happened back at the city. Eventually, Amane did.

The porthole in the bedroom showed a distant moon glimmering over the ocean and
Amane sighed wistfully.

“She didn’t deserve it
you know,” she said out of the blue. Evan knew exactly what Amane was talking about but said nothing. He listened. Amane talked slowly.

“
I shouldn’t be sitting here. When I shut my eyes, I keep seeing Sasha’s face. I’ve never seen such fear in a person’s eyes before, or contempt.” Amane rubbed her eyes.

“
Amane, it was an accident. Truly, it was. If anything, you were right, it was my fault. It was my stupid idea.”

“No, s
he didn’t fall, Evan. I had to do it. She was dragging me down with her. I had to let her go.”

“What do you mean? I saw her fall. With her hands cut up like that
, I’m not surprised she couldn’t hold on,” Evan said.

“I cut her d
own. The straps on the backpack, I... She wouldn’t stop thrashing around and I couldn’t hold her up as well as myself. I...” Amane’s throat tightened up and she couldn’t continue.

 
  “Well for what it’s worth, I think I would’ve done the same,” said Evan. “I’m sorry you were in that position and I’m sorry that Sasha isn’t here right now, but there’s no point looking back. You did what you had to do to survive, Amane. I don’t mean to sound callous, but I’m bloody glad you did.”

Amane
sniffed and cleared her throat. “You’re right, I survived. Would I do it again? I don’t know. But I have to live with her death every day. Her face when she fell... Fuck, Evan, what’s the world come to? What about Lily? It’s not fair. Why am I sitting here and they’re not?”

“
Fate, God, natural selection, sod’s-fucking-law? You have to figure that one out for yourself. I don’t think there is an answer. I think what happens, happens. There’s no rhyme or reason to it.”

Amane
sipped her wine and they sat in pensive silence. Eventually Amane moved to sit next to Evan on the bed and poured out some more wine.

“It’s late. We should get some rest. Up early tomorrow
, remember.”

They talked a little more whilst they finished their wine.
Amane went to the bathroom and when Evan took a turn and came back, he found her tucked up in bed. He climbed in beside her and they held each other in the warmth as they drifted to sleep. Evan felt guilty. Shouldn’t they be powering through the sea right now to his children? He couldn’t do it. His useless brain could only get them so far. Evan fell asleep praying for their safety. He prayed that Tom was keeping them safe on his boat.

Across the
sea, Australia lay silent. Skyscrapers smouldered in devastated cities, whilst the ravaged countryside tried to hide its secrets of housing estates, shops, garages, farms, offices, all destroyed. Smaller communities suffered destruction as much as the larger urban areas. The afflicted roamed freely, encountering little resistance. The foolish and the foolhardy fell as easily as the other. One by one they died, reawakening to join their flesh-eating brothers and sisters.

Further away
, the rapacious destruction of civilisation continued unabated and uninterrupted. Man was powerless to intervene as The Petronas Towers crumbled to a pathetic pile of rubble and the refineries of the Middle East burnt unattended. Unobserved chemical plants around the world exploded, sending acrid smoke over the once green fields of South America and Europe unchecked.

World
wide they rose in their millions from the slums: from Brazil, India, America, and Eastern Europe, the zombies rose up to kill, to destroy, and to take vengeance on the living.

Resistance around the globe was small and disorganised
. Bands of men and women here and there struck where they could, holding their ground wherever they had taken cover. The rich and famous cowered in their paper palaces until they were forced out to scavenge for help or food. They rarely returned home. The world had become a circus: a House of the Dead, the Damned, and the Dying.

* *
* *

With a
little help from a full belly and plenty of red wine, Evan slept contentedly, at least for a few hours. In the night he was awoken as the wind rocketed around outside and waves rocked the ship back and forth. He left Amane sleeping and went up to the bridge. The ‘Johanna’ listed from side to side and Evan hoped the storm didn’t grow any worse. The ocean seemed hungry now. Huge waves broke over the bow and lashed salty water against the window. Evan slumped down in the captain’s chair and sat watching the storm, listening to the howling of the wind. He was reminded of Sasha, the roaring noise of the zombies surrounding her as she had fallen echoing in his head like the wind outside. He shuddered and peered into the night sky. Random stars shone through gaps in the clouds and the half-moon cast a weak lustre over the sheen of the ocean. Evan stayed in the chair until; at last, he fell asleep again.

A loud bump against the ship’s hull jolted him awake and he sat up, instantly alert. He heard
Amane call out to him.

“Evan, come quick!”

Faint sunlight splayed down through dissipating storm clouds. Out on the deck, Evan saw that Amane was dressed and standing by the railing, looking over at something in the water. Evidently, he had slept in the chair for the rest of the night. He stretched and rolled his shoulders before going outside to find out what was happening.

“Sorry
. I wasn’t going to wake you but it’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it!” Evan looked to where she was pointing at the water excitedly and looked over the scaly, barnacle-encrusted body of a whale. As it slipped through the water, it nudged the ship again and Evan grabbed the railing.

“Do y
ou know what it is?” said Amane scanning the surface as the whale sunk silently into the murky depths.

“A whale?”
came Evan’s sardonic reply.

“Very funny,” said
Amane groaning.

“Beyond that, I can’t help you,” said Evan. “A big whale?”

“You’re useless, you know that?” Amane replied. The whale had gone out of sight for good and they went back inside to the warmth of the cabin.

“
You missed the storm last night,” said Evan walking down to the galley with Amane following.

“What
can I say, I’m a heavy sleeper.” She took some yoghurt from the fridge and dug into it.

“I wouldn’t say I slept
very well, but who cares,” Evan said. “In a few hours, we’ll be in Tassie with my kids and my dad. I can feel it, Amane, it’s going to be...awesome!”

Evan grabbed a bottle of water and bounded
like a child out of the galley. He dressed, pulled up the anchor and put the engines into motion. He checked the charts and headed, full throttle, to Tom, Charlie and Anna. Amane tidied up and hoped that Evan’s prayers would be answered today.

* * * *

Amane stayed in the bridge with Evan as they approached land a few hours later. It was cool outside and the sun was unsuccessfully trying to edge its way over Tasmania slowly. The clouds had reappeared, blocking it out, and it had begun drizzling. The rain was constant and fine: enough to soak the skin.