The Lost Journal Part 2 (A Secret Apocalypse Story) (14 page)

Jack slowed
down, applying pressure to the brakes. "Yeah maybe we should," he said. "I
mean, if there’s one there’s got to be more."

Both Jack
and I were looking out the rear window to see if the infected man we just hit was
chasing us.

I guess Jack
should’ve been watching the road.

"Look out!"
Maria shouted.

We ran over
another one. Jack swerved at the last second but still hit it front on. The car
bounced up and down as we ran over it. The other head light smashed partially. Even
less light. Jack slammed on the breaks.

"What are
you doing?" I asked. "Keep driving."

"I can’t
see!" Jack replied.

"We need
more light," Maria said. "There’s got to be more lights on this thing. It’s a
cop car. Don’t they come equipped with spotlights or something?"

Jack quickly
examined the control panel in the middle of the dashboard console. He flicked a
few switches. All of a sudden he hit the switch for the spotlight.

And the
sirens.

Suddenly the
tunnel was light up like Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Blue and red flashing
lights bounced off the walls of the tunnel. The spotlight mixed in, turning
everything brighter.

But then we
could see.

Hundreds of
infected people lined the road. Watching us.

"Go!" I
shouted.

Jack
practically punched his foot through the accelerator. The huge V8 engine roared
and we were all thrown back in our seats. I looked out the rear window again.

They were
chasing. Hundreds. Maybe more. I glanced at the speedometer. We were travelling
along at about sixty miles per hour. More infected up ahead. The road was
becoming more and more congested.

"Oh no," I
whispered under my breath.

Jack gripped
the steering wheel tight, he was breathing hard. "Oh shit. What do we do? What
do we do?"

"Just go," I
answered "Floor it."

"Are you
crazy?"

"We can’t
turn back now. We’ll get stuck. They’ll swarm, overwhelm us. Our only choice is
to keep going."

We were crashing
into more and more now. Infected corpses bumped off the bull bar, and the hood
of the cop car. We started bouncing up and down as we ran over them.

"Go," I
repeated. "As fast as you can."

Jack pressed
down on the accelerator.

It was a crash
derby.

At that
moment I remembered another quote my father used to say all the time.

"If you are
going through hell. Keep going."

It was wall
to wall with infected people. Dead people. Corpses. The living dead. Zombies.
Whatever you want to call them.

The Cross
City Tunnel was wall to wall with them.

Every now
and then we thought the number of infected was going to clear out. But it never
did.

The windows
must’ve been reinforced because no matter how many bodies we smashed into they
never broke. They didn’t even shatter. At one point there were about a dozen
infected on the hood of the car. We couldn’t see. Jack had to slam the brakes
on so they went flying off. He then accelerated again, driving over them. We
bounced up and down. I nearly hit my head on the roof of the car. Each time we
hit one there was a loud thump. At one point there were so many thumps it was
like we were getting pelted with rocks or giant boulders or something. But Jack
kept going and kept us steady. His hands were gripped firmly on the steering
wheel, his knuckles were white. His foot was pressed on the accelerator, a grim
look of determination on his face.

Up ahead we
could see the light of the exit.

We were
almost there.

Going through
hell. Keep going.

The more
sunlight, the less infected there were.

Maybe they
preferred the dark.

I don’t
know.

But Jack was
able to increase our speed.

Sixty miles
per hour.

Seventy.

Eighty.

We were able
to put some distance between us and the chasing horde. We let out a cheer and
breathed a sigh of relief as we finally drove out of the tunnel. But we weren’t
in the clear yet. We needed a place to hide. And we needed to find a place real
quick before all those infected in the tunnel found us.

Sydney Cricket Ground

"Where do we go now?" Maria asked.

"We
have to hide," I said. "Somewhere that’s safe. Somewhere we can barricade and reinforce."

We
sped along the main roadway. Up ahead we could see a couple of sports stadiums
right next to each other.

"There!"
Jack shouted. "We can hide in one of the stadiums."

"Which
one?" I asked.

"Does
it matter?" Maria said. "Just pick one!"

Jack
turned off the main roadway and drove right up to the entrance of the nearest
stadium.

"The
SCG," Jack said. "Should be empty."

We
parked the car out the front of the entrance. We didn’t bother shutting the
doors or taking the keys out of the ignition. We just got out and left it and
headed into the stadium.

The
sports stadium is called the SCG - short for Sydney Cricket Ground.

It
had potential. The problem was, the potential worked both ways. It was
potentially a refuge and a fortress. But it was also potentially a trap. A
nightmare. We knew all the dangers. We knew.

It
might not be safe.

It
might not be secure.

It
could be crawling with infected.

It
could be a death trap.

But
we had to try. We had no other options. We had backed ourselves into a corner.
We had left our sanctuary high above the ruins of Sydney and now we were on the
mean streets.

We
were surrounded.

We
were on the run.

We
had to fortify our position immediately. And a sports stadium seemed like a
good place to start. Lucky for us it was.

There
was no time to rest. No time to breathe. Not yet. We were running on pure
adrenalin. The job ahead of us was huge but there was no time to complain. We
had to secure all the doors, entry points and exit points. We had to barricade
them. If we didn’t, we were leaving ourselves open to an attack. And if we let
just one of the infected in here, it would be all over.

So
we didn’t complain. We just sucked it up, and got to work. We shut all the
gates and roller doors and emergency exits.

The
worst part was making sure the place was actually empty. But once we were
satisfied we were alone, we found a room in one of the upper floors of the
grand stand to hide in. It was a corporate area by the looks of things. We
picked one of the rooms. I guess it was a corporate box. It had two doors, one
that led into the corridor, the other led into some outside seats. I locked
these doors and placed some tables and chairs up against them.

After
we had locked ourselves in the corporate box we sort of just stood around
trying to catch our breath.

"We
can’t keep this up," Maria said. "We can’t. We won’t make it."

Maria
was right. We couldn’t keep running.

It
was my call to go down to the lower levels. It was my call to go into the
tunnel. I should’ve known it was a deathtrap. I told myself to keep it
together. Jack and Maria need you.

Especially
Maria.

She’s
too valuable.

I
made the right call. We did what we had to do.

I
tell myself we are still alive.

I’m
shaking and trembling as I write all this down, because to be honest, I’m
grateful to be alive. I’m Lucky. We all are.

I
should be forcing myself to get a few hours of sleep but I can’t.

I
can sleep when I’m dead. At this rate, I won’t have to wait long.

Rest and Recover

We did nothing but sleep, for like two days straight. I guess I shouldn’t be
surprised. We worked ourselves to exhaustion. We had been running for our lives
for over a week. Even when we made it to the relative safety of the SCG we
didn’t stop. There was no time. We had to barricade and lock ourselves inside.
We went right around the entire stadium and locked up each and every entry
point and exit point. That kind of work rate and adrenalin fuelled running tends
to take a toll on a person.

We
didn’t even bother keeping watch at night when we slept. We were too tired. We
just trusted that our efforts to fortify the stadium were sufficient. The first
night here I put some tables and chairs up against the doors of the room we
were hiding in. I slept against the temporary barricade so I would feel
anything trying to open it or break through. Luckily, it seemed to have been
adequate.

After
about a week of resting and sleeping we decided to do another pass of stadium.
We just wanted to be sure that we hadn’t missed anything. We decided to
reinforce and barricade the main emergency tunnels into the stadium. These
tunnels were used so ambulances could gain access to the field in case of an
emergency and so the groundskeepers could drive maintenance equipment on to the
field. They were gated on the outside, but they were completely open on the
inside as they opened on to the field.

To
be on the safe side, we decided to barricade the tunnels.

We
ended up parking a couple of pitch rollers, lawn mowers, spare seats and tables
right into the mouth of the emergency tunnels. We just crammed them all in together.
Finally, we were satisfied nothing was getting in here. The stadium really was
a fortress. And once we were convinced we were as safe as we could be we
continued to rest and recover. We found some food and water in kitchen areas of
the corporate levels so we could afford to take it easy.

It
was almost as good as the Sydney Tower. It was safe, it was secure. The only
downside is that we didn’t have the views that the tower afforded us. But
again, as nice as this place was we knew we couldn’t stay here forever. We
needed to make a plan. One that didn’t involve going underground or getting
trapped or running for our lives.

"So
what do we do?" I asked out loud.

We
were lazing around inside our luxurious corporate box. Jack and Maria were
sitting against the wall, drifting in and out of sleep.

"Huh?"

"What
do we do now?" I repeated. "Do we go out west? Do we wait for a rescue? Maybe
we could make a sign on the roof of the stadium or on the field or something?"

"A
sign?" Maria asked, still half asleep.

"Yeah,
you know, so if any choppers are flying over they can see it."

"I
like that," Jack said. "What can we use to make the sign?"

"Don’t
know."

"I
think there are some supplies in groundskeeper’s shed," Maria suggested. "I
think I saw some paint in there we can use."

We
made our way to the supply sheds and actually found a lot of stuff we could
use. There were buckets of white paint they used to paint the lines on the
field. Jack informed me that this particular field was used for cricket and two
or three different types of football. So they were constantly repainting the
lines. We gathered up a bucket of paint each and decided to get to work on
painting a sign first thing tomorrow on the field and on the roof of the
stadium if we could get up there.

We
settled back into the corporate box that we had taken over. Jack and Maria fell
asleep in each other’s arms again as I lay awake, still thinking about what to
do. Should we stay here longer? Should we make a move? What about food? We
can’t survive on potato chips forever.

It
must’ve been close to sunrise when I heard some distant noises coming from the
inner city.

I am haunted

I sat up and moved over to the windows at the rear of the corporate box. These
windows looked towards the city but I couldn’t see anything. If I had to guess
I’d say the noises were choppers and jet engines. The noises were very
noticeable because it had been quiet for about a week now.

Jack
and Maria were sleeping. They hadn’t heard anything.

I
shook Jack by the leg. He didn’t move. I nudged his leg again. "Hey, Jack. I’m
just going up to the roof. I just wanna check something out."

"Huh?"

"I
think I just heard a chopper fly over."

He
yawned. Maria was still fast asleep.

"What
do you think it is?" he asked.

"Don’t
know. I better go check it out. You two stay here."

"I
think we should stick together."

"It’s
fine. I’ll be quick. I’m just gonna have a look. I’ll be right back."

He
didn’t put up much of a fight. I guess he didn’t really want to leave the
safety of our room if it wasn’t necessary. And no doubt he was still exhausted
from fortifying the stadium.