The Desolate

I let Ashe rest until a little past dawn, she very much needed it, and to be honest, so did I. And with heat much less of an issue, it was probably better to move around during the day anyway. It gave us both the opportunity to get some much-needed sleep in an area that seemed to be relatively clear of zombies around. But when she opened her eyes again, she glared at me, I was confused by her look, unsure what I had done to upset her. She shook her head then took out a bottle of water, taking a long drink before handing the bottle to me.

“You are a lovely, frustrating man, do you know that? Why didn’t you wake me sooner? We should have been on the road hours ago.” Her voice was low and filled with a mixture of frustration and something else that I didn’t recognize, except perhaps…No not that surely! She'd said the words before, but they hadn't quite registered in the same way as that look. I had heard that same tone from her a few times now, and one I still couldn’t discern clearly. She was admonishing my decision to let her rest, but it came from a warm place that was entirely unfamiliar. She stood up, stretching off her sleep with a silent yawn.

I managed only a small shrug as an apology in response, unsure of what an appropriate response to her affectionate admonishment entailed. I was still a little tired having got only a few hours’ sleep myself, and as a result, it had been a night spent inside my own head as I tried to figure out our next move. But every time I closed my eyes, my mind was flooded with memories that had haunted my dreams since I was a child. “Sorry,” I said eventually. “I couldn’t sleep anyway, and you definitely needed it.”

She must have noticed my mind was not all there, as she handed me the water bottle. “If you want to get some rest yourself, I don’t think it will hurt if you take an hour or two here. I can keep an eye out.”

I shook my head and stood up with a steely resolve, pushing through my exhaustion. “I’m good, my mind is just distracted that’s all,” I said sounding more tired than even I'd thought, before straightening myself and directing my focus toward our next destination, “I’ll be okay once we are on the road again. Come on, let’s get going!”

She stared for a moment before we each gathered our bags and headed out. She handed me a piece of meat to chew on as we walked, following a dirt track a few hundred meters through the dense forest to a decaying roadway leading through the mountains. There were a few rusted shells of old cars lining the sides of the road. “Someone moved these!” I said in a hushed tone as we walked.

“Recently?” Her tone matched mine.

“No, the metal of the wheels would have seized long ago. Probably it was done only a few years after the collapse.” I explained as we continued. And the thought of survivors in this area got me thinking, and my mind began to worry and fear, and to hope.

Eventually, we found a turn that took us south towards the coast, and the dense forest and mountains eventually gave way to overgrown pastures and fields on low-lying foothills that stretched tens of kilometers almost to the coast. The road itself was compacted dirt, with pits and potholes that would have made it difficult to navigate in a vehicle, but the well-worn tire tracks hinted that it probably had been traversed regularly for a very long time, though perhaps not so much now.

“What’s wrong?” Ashe asked as we followed the dirt road south.

I just shook my head, not wanting to get too into the memories that were beginning to plague my mind the closer we got to this place. They were painful enough without putting them in her head as well. But the emotions that plagued me were beginning to flood my mind. “I’m okay, I just want to see something then we are going to find somewhere nearby to settle, at least for a while. We both need to rest and recover properly, I think.”

A warm smile etched across her face, relieved that our travels were coming to an end. “What are we going to see? You mentioned maybe family?” she asked curiously. The story of my childhood often haunted my dreams, replaying it many times over in the back of my mind. Always followed by a procession of things I might have done differently even as a small child. She was patient, sensing my uneasiness at the memories that still invaded my sleep. She reached out, took my hand, and squeezed. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but if you need to, I’m here!”

Her words were reassuring, and when the words eventually blurted out, it almost came as a shock to both of us, “When I was young… very young, I lived around these very foothills, just a little further along the coast. We were based just outside an old-world town. I don't remember its name, but I remember the beach... and I remember the war over it. Early in the collapse, a small group of survivors got together and managed to build a small community in the foothills just north of the coastal town. Most of them were just teenagers at the time, probably younger than you in most cases. After a few months of the outbreak, they began to encounter other groups and soon established trade with some of them. They tried to build positive relationships with their neighbors as much as possible. But somewhere along the way, they encountered another group that had very different ideas of how they wanted the world to run. They were much closer to the people around New Alice now. They were mostly ex-old-world military and law enforcement, just like those at the heart of New Alice."

“My parents were old-world, at least in some ways. My father was very strongly opposed to a lot of the changing values and morals in the groups around them. But they were also big advocates of adapting to the new world and finding ways to survive that did not compromise what it meant for them to be human. The makeup of my parent’s group probably dictated a lot of that. They were a group with more women than men, and they needed every hand for dealing with zombies, so John set about training them all to fight and survive while my mother and Natalie basically ran the camp. People listened to them because of my dad and a few of the other guys in the group, apparently being intelligent and well-organized was not as important for a lot of people as having a cock and balls. Anyway, they ended up at war with several groups over the next few years after the outbreak after one of them kidnapped a couple of our people who were out on a scavenging run. The war ended when my mother, father, and Natalie somehow managed to take out an attacking force of raiders, almost entirely on their own. After that, there was a split in the group over a range of ideological differences, some people left wanting to do things differently. And it made the group much weaker. Some went inland, others went up to the mountains, and others stayed put.”

Clouds had begun to roll in as we approached the highway, it was going to rain at some point soon though it didn’t look like more than a drizzle. The scent of moisture was soon accompanied by salt the closer to the coast we got, and the combination made the memories even more vivid.

“What happened next?” Ashe asked, prompting me to continue.

“Well, one half wanted to find a balance with a lot of the new-world settlements that were becoming increasingly dictatorial, dominated by physical strength. As the males of those groups learned to be strong and dominant, the women were forced to be ignorant and subservient as much as possible. A stupid move if you ask me, and it’s one of New Alice’s greatest weaknesses now.”

“Why?”

“Because nearly half of their population have been rendered ignorant and subservient… or worse. And from a purely practical perspective, slaves are anything but productive workers. And that’s before we get to the moral question of owning a person.” I sighed, before continuing, “Anyway, this contrast created tension with the original group that stayed near Thornton. My parents and about a dozen people stayed behind and started to build up the settlement as it was. Bringing in new people and developing a strong presence in the area over the next few years.”

“What happened to the group that left?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “About a year later, a few of them came back; apparently, they had been hit by raiders and a few had been killed or captured. I don’t really remember. When my parents heard they were in trouble, they wanted to investigate and find out what happened. After all, they had a lot of old-world contacts and friends in that group. It was around five or so years after the outbreak. My uncle Luke was one of the people who had come back. He was one of the people who had led the group away, but I remember my mother never fully trusted him, and I think she blamed him for what happened. She called it a setup and told me I should warn the others. But I don’t remember him ever explaining what happened, so I don't really know for sure. This all happened around the time of change, in the middle of the continent, when New Alice and lots of other settlements were springing up all over the desert, and my parents didn't. They stayed put right around here somewhere. At least until they went to try and find out what happened to the other group. I think my mother thought it was a setup from the start, and that Luke was somehow in league with them. But it's hard to know."

"Slavers and raiders were still roaming the coastal regions at that point. But many were moving inland, so my father assumed it would be okay. But zombies still moved in huge herds at that point, which meant my parents and the rest of the group had to become partially nomadic, staying in the local area but constantly moving between safe houses as needed to avoid the herds and deal with raiders when they had to. I stayed behind with Natalie when they went to investigate. But when my father got back, he was badly hurt and distraught, and my mother was not with him. He had been shot several times and was near death until Natalie and Michael found him. I remember barely seeing him for weeks after that, he was badly wounded, but as soon as he could walk, he went out to try and find her. And while he was out, we were ambushed by slavers when moving between safe houses to avoid a herd."

"There was a fight, and I remember seeing my mother tied up on the back of one of their trucks. I don’t know exactly what happened after that, I just remember running towards her before blacking out. My head was ringing with pain when I woke up by a fire and watched for weeks as they raped and tortured her, blaming her for killing so many of their friends before turning the same wrath on me more than once. They kicked and beat me too of course, but when one of them went to rape me while my mother was awake, she went crazy. I think they thought she'd turned; she tore a chunk of flesh right out of some guy's neck before somehow getting a hold of his knife and getting free. She launched herself on the man, pressing her fingers into his eyes as she screamed and brutally killed him, she stabbed him so many times there was nothing but pulp left of his chest.”

I felt Ashe’s hand squeeze mine as she listened. We had been lucky to avoid any zombies so far that day, and once we reached the old highway that paralleled the coast, we headed southeast again.

Ashe let out an empathetic smile and a deep breath before she finally spoke. “Let’s go see what’s left of them, you deserve that!”

I smiled sadly, squeezing her hand as the memories flashed through my mind. As we walked, the words just kept falling out of my mouth, and the story I had never shared before now had someone else to hear it, someone else who cared enough to understand and feel as I felt about the beautiful woman who had been my mother, “I thought my mother had turned as well at first, she was drenched in blood. But I didn’t run from her, I just closed my eyes and waited to join her. Then she leaned close and I heard her voice… I still hear her voice… she just whispered, ‘Come on, Jack, keep moving. Don't stop, you know daddy would never want you to stop.’ She picked me up and carried me away from the camp in the dead of night. The rest of the group scrambled in confusion, trying to figure out what the hell had happened as a group of zombies descended on their camp. In the chaos, she just ran with me in her arms. After that, we stayed on the road for most of two years, trying to find a way south through the herds of zombies that had formed out of the major cities, but it was impossible at the time. Millions of them cut off all possible routes south, even in the mountains. And when she finally died, so did a very large part of me, I was left alone in this world at just seven years old. She was the strongest person I knew. She taught me to read, telling me, ‘Jacky if you can read, you can learn anything, even if I’m not here to teach you!’ She was right, of course, as she always was. Her memory is what kept me going all these years.” I reached down and pulled out the chain that still hung around my neck that had been hers, opening the small pendant to reveal a faded worn picture of my father, mother, and Natalie together. Handing it to Ashe to see, “This was taken before the collapse, I think. They were maybe fifteen.”

Ashe smiled as she looked at the picture before handing it back, “She was very beautiful.”

“She was!” I said as I pulled the chain back around my neck.

“How did she die?” Ashe asked, her voice full of warmth and sadness.

“I was maybe seven or eight years old by then, I’m not completely sure!” Ashe just listened, digesting the information, and prompting me when needed. “It’s stupid to go looking for them now, I know that. They are probably all long dead, but I’ve always wanted to know and haven’t been able, or more accurately, willing to come down this way until now. I suppose I’ve feared what I would find for a long time. And I feared what they'd think of the man I've become... the things I've done. This trip south was always meant to be a suicide mission, I’d planned to come here to find a place where I could die in peace away from the hell I knew in New Alice. After all the evil shit I did because I was young and stupid enough to believe that Malcolm Bishop was a good man, all I wanted was to die on my own terms.”

Her hand squeezed mine again as we kept walking, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad that plan has changed. And whatever you did or didn't do, you really are a good man, Jack.”

I smiled back at her reassuringly, but not believing it for a second, “I never expected this… or you…”

Ashe blushed slightly at my words as we walked silently for several kilometers along the highway, eyes focused on our surroundings. She was the first to speak after a few minutes of silence. “For what it’s worth, she sounds like an amazing woman. And your father sounds like he was an amazing man, I’m sure they would be proud of the man they raised. There are always things we do because we feel we have to, but you have a good heart and the fact that after all these years you still care is something to be proud of.”

"Yeah, but make no mistake. I did a lot of those things willingly that I was ordered to do. Isi and I were New Alice's greatest killers. You have to know that."

She nodded but smiled reassuringly, "I get it, Jack."

It was more than familiar terrain around here, the place firing off memories and igniting nightmares all at once. The decaying highway was packed with hundreds of car wrecks as far as the eye could see in both directions. The ruins of Melbourne lay to the west, with many tall buildings still intact and visible to the naked eye even after all these years. When Ashe saw them she was awestruck and unable to take her eyes off them as unasked questions filled her. The vehicles had all long ago been left to rust and ruin as with most of the world, and I decided to just keep talking, “Roads like these are a kind of shrine to the old world.” I whispered, “Melbourne and Sydney were the first two places hit by whatever caused this, at least in this part of the world. We have no idea what happened beyond these shores. The panic of the huge population centers and the inability of soldiers and police to stop the spread of refugees out of the cities meant the end of civilization as we knew it was ensured in no time at all,”

Ashe noticed that many of the old vehicles still contained the long-decayed corpses of their occupants, far too many to count. “It’s like a graveyard,” she whispered, with sadness in her voice for the overwhelming number of people who died just on this stretch of road. And the hundreds of thousands more that didn't.

We passed a few dozen zombies just outside of a small ruined coastal town, slipping passed them quietly and continuing along the road following the coastline east. Late in the afternoon, we reached a section of exposed beach, and the ruins of another small ruined coastal town. Ashe’s jaw dropped when she saw the sand and waves for the first time, whispering to herself, “Wow!” A few of the houses looked as though they had been restored at some point since the outbreak but had since been left to the weather. The area probably hadn’t been occupied in years despite the evidence of survivors. There were no crops, no intact fences, no fortified houses—there may have been a settlement here once, but certainly not now. We continued along the highway for several more kilometers until late in the afternoon. Soon we found a faded sign that was still standing, though covered in rust, dust, and dirt with several bullet holes piercing the metal that read ‘Thornton’. The name rang a bell in my memories, but I couldn't quite place it. We were about half a kilometer west of the town when I spotted a somewhat maintained dirt road leading away from the highway towards the beachfront. I remembered the cabins we had fortified once we I was a kid, where I helped Natalie stockpile food and water for a safe house while my mother kept watch on top of a small balcony. And I wondered if it was still there. And I remembered my father and two other men setting concrete metal poles into the ground for a fence. And as we walked along the dirt path, familiarity hit me immediately.

“Come on,” I whispered, leading us along the path, hoping we would find it intact, if it was, we would have somewhere to hold up for the night if nothing else. Though I very much doubted it would have survived without maintenance, not being so close to the beach. And then in the distance, we saw a slightly rusted wire fence interweaved by vines and several large pine trees surrounding a small, enclosed yard. It would have been impossible to see from the highway if you didn’t know what you were looking for. A gate had been flattened at some point by a fleeing car or truck, but it wasn't recent. As we approached the area, a raised cabin came into view, overlooking the water reaching just above the nearby sand dunes. It was obviously old-world, but it had been restored relatively recently and was seemingly well-maintained. But it could have been done by anyone, so I push down any resemblance of hope. “Looks like another safe house,” Ashe said, raising her rifle.

“It looks that way,” I agreed, doing the same as we approached the small building. “Let’s check it out.”

“Just a quick reminder, Jack, we are almost out of clean water unless we plan to trust the water we got last night, and only have a couple more days of food left,” Ashe said. “This could work for a couple of days while we restock!”

I nodded in agreement. “Okay, let’s check out the area and hold up here for tonight. We can put that gate back up, and if we are quiet, the herds should pass right on by. We’ll look around in the morning and see if we can do some scavenging around the town.”

We hurried into the seemingly abandoned safe house, both of us moving quietly with our rifles drawn, searching the cabin quickly moving in through a small living area and kitchen, then through the single bedroom and bathroom. Once we had determined the cabin was clear of zombies and seemingly well-stocked, I moved back outside and quickly swept around the wire fence, searching for signs of any weak points or holes. It was unlikely a whole group stayed here regularly, but it had a small stockpile of food and water in the cabin and likely acted as a safe house for an active settlement somewhere nearby. Ashe and I put the gate back up before performing a final patrol of the surrounding area.

I was on edge in that place, and Ashe was no better. She had taken up a defensive position on the raised porch of the cabin and was on high alert while I built a firepit and got the area ready for us for the night. The image of her holding a rifle on that very porch brings back a long-faded memory of my mother opening fire on a herd of zombies in a nearby field. Inside the cabin, the cupboards held a substantial amount of preserved food in tins and jars, but I settled eventually on some tinned soup for dinner. It would keep us hydrated and fed, especially since the place had a lack of fresh drinking water. Though I’m sure we would find some nearby streams or creek beds where we might source water to filter. But I was not willing to explore beyond the small compound this close to dark. Not in this part of the world.

Just at dusk with the sun slipping below the horizon, Ashe whispered through the sliding door of the cabin to get my attention, “Jack!”

“What is it?” I called back as I instinctively collected my rifle, making my way over to the door.

She held her rifle up towards the highway to the east, looking down the sight at a truck that wasn’t there earlier, whispering, “We are being watched!”