Desolation Boulevard (32 page)

Matt laughed, “No I guess not, but who
cares? I can give you some jobs to do around the farm. You look fit
and healthy.”

He looked at Matt more intently, considering
the offer. “Well, it’s very generous of you. Are you sure?”

“
Yes, absolutely. People
need to help each other now. I insist. Do you have anything to
bring?”

“
Just a few things with my
bike. I’ll grab them and be back in a few minutes.”

-

The look on Montana’s face when they arrived
back at the farm told Matt everything he needed to know about her
attitude to the new member of their clan. She was pissed and didn’t
care who knew it. As they unloaded the supplies from the back of
Matt’s ute and carried them up the path to the house, Montana
refused to speak to Matt or Bill, and made it clear that this
visitor was not welcome. As soon as the groceries were deposited in
the large walk-in pantry, Matt made Bill a cup of tea and
encouraged him to sit and talk to Gabby while he took Montana out
onto the front veranda to try and calm her down. While she stood
there with her hands on her hips, glaring at him angrily, Matt did
his best to justify his decision to bring a stranger into their
midst.

“
Look, he’s just passing
through. He has no-one in the world, and we could use an extra pair
of hands while we set ourselves up.”

For a moment Matt thought Montana was going
to continue with the silent treatment, so he was relieved when she
finally hissed, “You know nothing about him! He could be a serial
killer, for all you know! Why on earth would you put us all at risk
when we’ve just made the place safe? You spent two days building a
fence, then invited a stranger right in.”

“
The fence is to keep
feeders out, not people that need help. And just to remind you,
this is my farm. I invited you and Gabby in, remember? You’re being
unfair. He’ll only be here for a few days, and then I’ll send him
on his way. You don’t even have to speak to him if you don’t want
to.”

“
Oh don’t worry, I won’t!”
she spat, as she stormed off into the kitchen.

Five minutes later Matt was sitting on the
front veranda with Bill, trying to convince him that Montana was
just a little stressed, and that she really didn’t mind having a
fourth person in the house. “She’ll be okay once she gets used to
you. She’s a really lovely person.”

“
No, it’s okay,” said Bill,
“She’s upset. I understand that. I probably would be too if I were
her. She’s very happy and secure here with you and Gabby. She’s
learned to trust you, but now you’re asking her to go through all
that again with me. It might be better if I leave. What do you
think?”

“
No. It’s okay Bill. You’re
welcome here. It’s my farm. If Montana doesn’t like it, she’ll just
have put up with it. It’s not her call. She’s being a little
unreasonable.”

“
Well if you’re sure. It
would be nice to get to know you all for a little while, and maybe
I can be some help around the place. I really appreciate your
kindness.”

“
Okay then, that’s settled.
Now let me show you around.”

-

While Bill was given the tour of the farm,
Montana and Gabby sorted the cans and packets of food that Matt had
brought back from town. Gabby was quieter than usual, but followed
Montana’s instructions and helped to get things organised on the
pantry shelves.

“
Why don’t you like that
man?” Gabby finally asked.

“
Oh honey, it’s not that I
don’t like him, I just don’t know him, that’s all. Everything was
going so well for us, and now I have to get used to having somebody
else around.”

She passed Gabby two tins of tomatoes. “I’m
sure he’ll be fine, and Matt could use some help around the place
so don’t you worry, okay? He’s only staying for a few days.”

But as Montana handed Gabby another two tins
of tomatoes, she thought that the little girl did look worried.
Montana assumed that she was missing her mother terribly and tried
to ease her mind somewhat by saying, “Hey, why don’t we see if Matt
will take us to visit Kate and Elvis tomorrow?”

The girl’s eyes immediately lit up,
“Really?”

“
Sure. I’ll ask him about
it tonight, okay?”

“
Yes please. Can we look
for mummy too?”

Montana tried to look optimistic as she
replied, “Of course we can sweetheart. Now come here and give me a
hug.”

-

After Matt had shown Bill around the farm,
they got to work setting up sensors around the perimeter of the
fence so that the arc lights would turn on automatically if
triggered by movement. Bill turned out to be a useful helper, and
after a considerable amount of trial and error, they eventually
made the system work with reliability. As they sat outside the
fence on a fallen tree trunk, admiring their handiwork, Bill became
more inquisitive about the farm and the girls. Matt gave him a
brief outline of his journey since the event and, when he had
finished, asked Bill about his experiences. The man described a
similar scenario to Matt’s in a small village much further west
with a population of less than one hundred people, but didn’t go
into much detail, implying that he had eradicated all of the
feeders once he realised how violent they had become. Matt realised
that everybody handled trauma differently, and even though Bill
wasn’t very forthcoming with details, he didn’t push for more
information.

For the rest of the afternoon, and into the
evening, Montana continued to keep her distance from Bill. She
didn’t refuse to speak to him completely, but it was clear from her
demeanour that she was not happy about this new arrival, and would
only be satisfied when he left. After a very tense dinner, everyone
started to prepare for bed earlier than usual and Matt was somewhat
relieved when Montana took Gabby off to bed, leaving the two men
alone.

Matt gave Bill a slightly embarrassed look.
“I’ll get you some blankets. You can sleep on the couch. Maybe
tomorrow I can set you up somewhere a bit more private. There’s a
sleepout on the back veranda. It doesn’t have a bed at the moment,
but I can put one in there tomorrow.”

“
I don’t want you to go to
any trouble. A sleeping bag is all I need. The couch sounds good
for tonight, though. I think I need to sleep. I don’t feel that
well.”

“
Oh, okay,” said Matt, as
he passed him a pillow and two blankets.

“
Hey, Matt. Thank you. I
know how hard this has been for you. I really appreciate
it.”

“
Yeah sure. No worries.
I’ll see you in the morning. I hope you feel a bit better by
then.”

As Matt headed to his bedroom, he wondered
about his new acquaintance. Maybe Montana was right about him, he
thought, before putting the idea out of his mind just as quickly.
The man was just a lonely survivor like him. There was no need for
paranoia. He lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

-

Sometime around two in the morning the world
was almost completely silent and the moon had not long risen. The
farm was awash in pale silvery light and the only discernible
sounds were those of the house creaking occasionally, as its boards
shrunk slightly as the temperature dropped. Matt had crawled into
bed hours ago and now dreamt that his mother was alive and telling
him to clean his room before his father got home. Montana and Gabby
lay huddled together, sound asleep in each other’s arms, sisters
now, through circumstances beyond their control, but possessing no
less of a bond for that. The house creaked again and the moon
continued its’ inexorable rise in the night sky, throwing a little
more light on the girls’ cherubic faces. In the doorway, a figure
stood, seemingly mesmerised by Gabby’s sleeping form. Outside,
beyond the fence, the lights remained off.

Chapter 53

As Dylan followed the fat man back towards
the zombie cage, he was amazed by his boldness. Here he was,
strutting along the deserted road, his chubby little face whistling
with happiness, despite the fact that he’d just incarcerated two
innocent women. Dylan wanted to leap on the evil turd and beat him
to a pulp, but he knew that he had to restrain himself until the
door of the bank vault was opened, and for that he would need to be
patient.

From a safe distance Dylan watched, as the
man loped casually towards the used car yard. Every fifteen metres
or so he had to stop and shuffle the obviously heavy overnight bag
from one hand to the other, as his arms grew tired. It was clear
that this was about as much exercise as he had ever done. When he
reached the car yard he threw the bag on the ground, and stretched
his arms above his head as he looked around, puffing heavily from
the walk. From where Dylan was hiding, behind a charity-clothing
bin, he could tell from the body language, that the rotund
kidnapper thought he was completely alone. After he’d finished
stretching, the man picked up his bag and headed around behind the
car yard sales office where the creatures were sleeping. Dylan
waited until he had disappeared from view, and then crept quietly
to the side of the office where he would be able to observe,
unseen.

Brock was oblivious to Dylan’s presence as
he put the key into the padlock that allowed him access to the
cage. He wasn’t worried about the creatures attacking him, because
he knew they would only come out of their hibernation once the sun
began to set, and even then they seemed to tolerate their captor to
a certain point. He wasn’t stupid enough to go into the cage while
they were awake, but even as he watched from outside the cage after
dark, he sensed that the creatures’ pent-up aggression and
malevolence was directed somewhere other than at him. After he had
stuck his head into the kennel to check on the creatures, he
unzipped the bag and took out three large plastic tubs that
contained meat of indeterminate origin. He took off the lids and
poured the mess into a large metal dish the size of a garbage can
lid. He then wiped his hands on his already filthy cargo pants and
let himself out of the cage, locking it behind him. Once he was
satisfied that the cage was secure, he sat down on an upturned
milk-crate and considered his incredible good fortune in the days
since Montana had been stolen from him.

Days ago, as Brock watched Matt drive out of
Carswell with Montana, he had been consumed with fury. He stormed
around the streets breaking windows, screaming and crying like a
baby whose toy had been taken away. He had never felt rage like it
in his life, and to his surprise, he found it painful and
pleasurable in equal measure. After the outburst, which lasted
until the sun began to set, he found himself lying on his back in
the middle of the street, much like the decaying corpses around
him, taking in big deep breaths as his sobs subsided. Emotionally
drained, he stared at the sky, which was tinged with pink, and
suddenly, with alarming clarity, he realised that the old world was
dead. The first star of the night was shining brightly from
millions of kilometres away, and that made him feel insignificant
and incredibly important all at the same time. So, as the daylight
leeched from the town and the shadows crept in, Brock realised that
he could be absolutely anything that he wanted to be. Anything.

Later that night, locked safely in his bank
fortress, Brock was imagining all of the ways he could kill Montana
and that cocksucking farm boy, when he heard an unusual monotonous
sound coming from outside on the street. He lumbered to the front
window and scratched his head in confusion as he looked up and
down, trying to locate the source of the strange sound. Finally,
out of the darkness towards the west, a procession of feeders moved
down the street, with great purpose, towards his position. He
couldn’t scarcely believe what he was witnessing as the beast
continued to materialise out of the blackness of the night. There
were more of these beasts now, and Brock thought they looked like
some crazy protest march from hell. He quickly crouched down in the
window to watch and was amazed even further when he saw them up
close, as they streamed past his window. Instead of behaving as an
unruly, violent mob, they seemed to be sharing a common goal as
they strode through the town. They didn’t attack each other, they
didn’t seem to be hunting for food, and they were all heading in
exactly the same easterly direction, as if under the command of an
unseen leader. Brock didn’t understand what this meant, but he
realised that he was viewing something that was both disturbing and
fascinating. An almost imperceptible smile played across his
face.

As he watched over the next few hours, the
zombie numbers increased until there were literally hundreds of
them walking past his position at the window. As they passed the
well-lit bank (now powered by a generator) Brock could see that
they were not in a dream state, like sleepwalkers, as he had
originally thought, but in fact the opposite. They seemed extremely
aware of their surroundings, and of each other, and as they passed
the bank windows, Brock could see them glare suspiciously at the
lights as they went by. For some reason, though, they were not
interested in investigating, and they continued their bizarre
pilgrimage to the east.

Brock maintained his vigil at the window,
and as the night wore on, the feeder numbers dwindled until just a
couple of hours before dawn, there was only the occasional, lone
creature shuffling through the town slowly, left behind by the
faster pack. Brock could see that the behaviour of these stragglers
was different than the others. Weaker and less agile, they followed
well behind the stronger group, with something like fear in their
eyes. Brock didn’t know why they didn’t have the strength of the
others, but something about their vulnerability gave him an idea.
He took up a position at the window on a comfortable chair and
waited for his opportunity. Next to him were a stun gun he’d
liberated from the Carswell Police Station and a large coil of rope
that he’d found in the bank storeroom. For the next hour he waited.
Occasionally, exhausted from being up most of the night, his fat
head would loll forward onto his chest, jerking him awake with a
start, and eventually, at around five o’clock in the morning, he
was so frustrated and bored that he was ready to give up his vigil
and go to bed, when he saw what he’d been waiting for – a lone
feeder stumbling weakly down the street towards the bank. He
immediately became alert and scoured the street for other creatures
but there were none. As Brock watched the zombie, he could tell
that it was in bad shape. It would walk a few paces, then stop and
look around, as if wondering where it was. It was a scrawny older
male, wearing just a few remnants of a tattered t-shirt and nothing
else. It stood in the pre-dawn gloom swaying slightly from side to
side just ten metres from Brock’s position in the window. He
realised that now was his best chance to capture one of these
beasts, so he grabbed the stun gun and rope and headed for the
front door.