Anno Zombus Year 1 (Book 1): January (11 page)

We unloaded the Valiant, transferring all of our possessions into the Greyhound.  In its luggage compartment we found several suitcases, with clothing enough for everybody to have several changes.  Not necessarily what we might have chosen, but clothes are clothes in the apocalypse.  When we were comfortably aboard, Archer closed up the doors and off we went.

Butcher saw that this was one of those buses that featured that most wonderful of all modern conveniences, the water closet, and meandered to the back of the bus in order to make use of the facilities.  Before any of us could even think to do anything about it, he had opened the door to let a festering Dead wearing a schoolgirl's uniform fell upon him, tearing a chunk of flesh out of his cheek.  As her teeth sunk in, his bowels loosened, rendering the already unpleasant odour of sweat and rotten flesh even worse.

Junior rushed to his feet, as I did, but Apocalypse Girl was ahead of us, charging into the fray holding high Valet's crowbar, which promptly sunk deep into the Dead girl's forehead.  Archer pulled the bus over so that we could dispose of the carcass.  And deal with Butcher.

dusk

Butcher stood a few paces from the door of the bus, staring out into the distance.  Blood streamed out from his face, soaking into his clothes.  “Fucking typical.”  He grumbled.  I clapped him on the shoulder sympathetically.  “You'll all be fucked without me, you know that.  But what the hell do I know?  I'm dead already...all I ever knew was meat...now I
am
meat.”  He shook his head at the irony.  I asked him how he wanted it to go.  He told me he would think on it for a while.

Archer was blaming himself, because he hadn't thought to look in the toilet for any stray Dead.  Butcher, however, was blaming himself for not having the reflexes to have avoided being bitten.  Any one of us at any time, however, while loading the bus could have checked things out, as well.  Not a one of us did.

“I called it on myself you know,”  He told me.  “When I told you that you'd be fucked without me.  You won't be, you'll do alright.  I really just wish I hadn't shat myself though.”

“I really wish the first time I get to use this sword wasn't on a friend.  Shit happens though, doesn't it?”  Came my reply.  We both smiled pitifully at the weak attempt at humour.

The rest of our dwindling group came out to say goodbye to Butcher.  He wanted to wait until after sundown, so we could share a final meal together.  This we did, though Butcher himself declined to take any food with us.  I rolled up a joint for us to share.  That was dwindling swiftly, also.  We smoked, and we laughed, we cried.  One and all we thanked Butcher for his contributions to our continued survival.

He took all the adulation we gave him with the good humour that only Butcher could muster at such a time.  He clutched his head in pain, doubling over.  I asked him if he was ready yet.  He nodded through the cramps.

I drew out my katana and it sang in the evening air.  Archer offered a hand to Butcher in order to help steady the man, but he refused, smiling at us all one last time.  He then looked directly into my eyes and said; “I'm ready now.”

I swung my blade, almost not feeling any resistance as it sliced through our companion's skull and brains.  He stood for a second longer, then gracefully fell, the top of his head neatly dropping off as he hit the bitumen.  Archer then unceremoniously ransacked his body, in the event that he had been carrying anything we could use.  His knives were already in the bus, all he had left on him was around seventy dollars in cash.  We left that with him.  Nobody uses money any more, after all, the world's ended, right?

January 20th Year 1 A.Z.

dawn

Sleeping in the comfort of the bus was a luxury almost forgotten by now.  Despite our recent losses, the six of us remaining awoke relaxed and in good humour.  Apocalypse Girl and The Twin helped Junior to clean out the tiny bathroom at the back of the bus, which mainly consisted of the two girls ordering him about, while he removed any remaining gobbets of flesh and cleaned up the blood.  The door was easily lockable, and we had an escape route that took us onto the roof of the bus itself, and Archer was already thinking on various improvements he could install.  We also had more than enough room for the six of us to spread out easily with our own little areas between several seats.  Archer and Junior had their sections to the front of the bus, The Twin and Biker had the back, leaving the middle to be shared between Apocalypse Girl and myself.

We ate and walked around outside for a short while, stretching our legs while it was safe to do so, then we piled back into the Greyhound and took off.  We all had to learn how to drive the bus, so that we were able to take turns.  This morning it was Junior behind the wheel.  The Twin was to follow him, and my turn was next.  Biker already had some experience driving a bus, and was thus spared Archer's lessons, but her turn to drive came after mine had  ended.

It was accepted practice to run over any Dead we saw on the road, unless we came across a group so large we were unable to make it through them.  While it was my turn to drive, we had come across a group of about seven or eight Dead, just standing around.  They glanced up at us an instant before the Greyhound ploughed into them, pulverising them.  It was rather satisfying, that was certain.

afternoon

What a pile of shit we have landed in now.  Biker was driving the bus, and we found another small town, tiny little place, not even sure it has a name.  All they had in this town was a police station, a pub and a post office.  There were only four actual houses in town, one of which had stood empty for at least a couple of years.  So we stopped, and got out of the bus to have a look around.  Moments later a little old lady comes tottering out of the pub, waving her arms madly at us.  She insisted that we come inside the pub and eat something, or at least that we come in for a beer.  That word is like magic in Australia, even after the apocalypse.  If anything, it's power is greater now, even.  So, into the pub we went, all six of us, leaving our weapons and supplies on the bus, which had been parked directly between police station and post office.  The pub was the next building along.  We crowded around the bar as the landlady poured our beers.

I asked her what had been happening in the town lately, to which she replied with a shrug.  Apparently nothing had happened here at all.  This town was clear of Dead, completely.  Biker asked her if she had heard anything about the Dead walking, and the old lady laughed, saying that was just a hoax.  Apocalypse Girl assured her that it was not, and she laughed all the harder.  We thought better of arguing with her, and simply drank our beers.  One round was followed by another, and a third, and a fourth.  We were discussing amongst ourselves exactly what our next move should be when the door to the street burst open, and a pair of police officers burst in, weapons drawn.  We were ordered out to the street at gunpoint, and marched off to the station, where we were locked up in two separate cells, though across a hall from each other.  Considering there were six of us, and we were drunk, they decided against interrogating us until morning.  The landlady of the pub followed us into the station, and upon our initial, inept frisking, loudly demanded that we pay for our drinks.  When she discovered that we also had no money to speak of, she shrieked in each of our faces, something unintelligible, and stormed off into the street.

Of all places to end up, in a prison cell in a fucking backwater was the last place I expected to find myself three weeks after the end of the world.  After locking us up, the two coppers searched the bus, finding the belongings of several people clearly in our possession, our weapons, and our weed.  These were all stashed in the room at the far end of the hallway in which our cells were located.  Evidence locker, I assumed.  I was at least allowed to keep my journal, but other than that we were stripped of everything but our clothes.

“What the fuck is this shit?”  Archer demanded of nobody in particular, while he paced about our cell.  “Fucking world ended and we get locked up like fucking animals.  We need to find a way out of this place.”

Apocalypse Girl and I locked eyes across the hallway.  This was the furthest we had been from each other's sides since the early days in the commune.  It was clear that she felt as naked without me as I felt without her.  We reasoned that eventually the Dead would come here, probably sooner rather than later.  For all we knew a group had been following us, or had otherwise picked up our trail.  Maybe a bunch of them would just wander into town one day and eat everybody.

I asked everybody if any of them knew how to pick a lock, to which all but Biker replied negatively.  She just said there was no point, nobody had anything to pick a lock with.  Not one of these, anyway.

Fuck this.  I am going to try to get some sleep.  Will write more when something happens.

January 21st Year 1 A.Z.

morning

Been some noises out in the street this morning.  No idea what though.  Neither cell has any windows, so nobody could get a look.  Younger of the two coppers brought breakfast in this morning.  Never had toast that tasted so fucking nice.  He looked at us strangely, then turned away without a word and left.  After a while the old lady from the pub came by to yell at us some more.  Turned out she was married to the older copper, but the young guy was not local.  We discovered this after she had calmed down a little.  She was also intensely lonely, that much was clear.  She also ran the post office.  When we asked her if there was anybody else in town she shook her head.  I asked her what the commotion in the street had been, apparently some 'lunatic' had run through town claiming that the Dead were chasing him.  She didn't suffer such nonsense, she told us, as we were trying to make her see that what that supposed lunatic had said was in fact true.

In time she was replaced by the older copper, her husband.  He was less lonely, but far better company.  He too offered us beer, though from cans rather than out of a tap, which we gratefully accepted.  He asked us questions, even took some of us aside to interview separately.  In one such interview he asked to read my journal of events that I had witnessed since everything began.  I nodded and handed it over.  His lips moved as he read, but despite that he was done reasonably quickly.

“Well...”  He began.  “I can't let you guys go just yet.  I have to check up on a few things.  Someone ran through town this morning shouting about the Dead walking, was thinking about driving out that way to see for myself.”  He looked very much as if he didn't want to be dealing with this situation.  “If the Dead are walking, then sure I'll let you all go.  If not, however...”  He let the threat hang in mid-air between us.  Meanwhile we were left in the care of the younger man.

He asked us questions this time, about what had been happening.  He had come from Melbourne, was posted in this shithole because he had accidentally shot someone.  He refused to give any further details, but kept asking if we had heard anything from any of the larger cities.  Apocalypse Girl replied that we had come from the direction of Adelaide, which had been overrun when we left, and that we had no idea of any other city.  Archer surmised that it was probably the same in Melbourne, if not worse.

noon

Copper asked if anybody knew what was up with the weather.  The Twin told him of our suspicions that the burned corpses of the Dead were responsible.  The old lady came in with a tray upon which sat our lunch.  Roast beef sandwiches with tomato and cheese.  I hadn't realised just how much I had missed the taste of cheese.  She also mentioned that her husband had still not come back yet.  After she left, Copper told us that she would not have said anything unless she was very concerned.