“Do you know where we are?” she said.
“I think so. Over to the right there is Robbins Island, which means, according to the map that over there is Perkins Bay. Stanley is just past it. We’re very close now.” Evan pulled the ship around the headland and slowed the engines.
As
they headed closer toward land, Evan began trembling. He was both excited and apprehensive about seeing his children again. When he saw them, would he remember them? Would holding them bring back his memory? Would they reminisce about the past? Darker thoughts gripped him too. What would he tell them had happened to their mother? What should he tell them about himself? How much did they know of what was happening in the world? He would confront it as and when he needed to, he decided.
As they approached the harbour
, Evan was sure that he’d found the right one. He saw the red brick building and it looked exactly as he remembered. Evan pulled the boat up slowly and as they reached the first stony pier, there was a horrible cracking noise and the ship lurched to a sudden halt.
“Shit,” said Evan. “It’s too shallow
. I think we hit the bottom.”
Amane
raced outside and looked down at the hull. “Evan, we’ve hit something, there’s a huge gash in the side of the ship!”
“Okay, let’s go,” he said, “we can make it
down onto the pier from here. I hope my father’s boat is in better condition than this one.”
He lowered a rope ladder over the r
ailings and they scrambled onto the pier, splashing over dark coloured stones as the ‘Johanna’ began taking on water.
E
van shielded his eyes from the constant drizzle and scanned the harbour. It was devoid of life and sound. It seemed as if the whole island was. Beyond the harbour were a few houses, then verdant bush. Evan saw his father’s home. Bare, sickly trees dripped in the rain beside it.
He saw a
yacht listing side to side in the water, holes perforating its sails. They looked ominously like bullet holes. Beyond the yacht, he spied what he was looking for: the ‘Lemuria.’ His heart began pounding in his chest.
“There,” he said to
Amane pointing toward the boat, “they’re still here! We have to go past my father’s house, over there, to get to it. You see that brick building? I’m going to look inside, just in case they’re in the house.”
T
hey ran carefully over the slippery, smooth, stone lined piers. Reaching Tom’s home, Evan tried the front door and slammed it open. Inside the little house, it was cold and quiet. Evan recognised a few things, the grandfather clock, the fishing poles over the fireplace, and the faded brown rug in the middle of the room. As Amane looked around, he ran through the small building, calling out, but finding nothing.
“They’re not here,” he said to
Amane, breathless. “It’s empty. The kid’s things aren’t here. There are no clothes or toys or anything, so they must still be on the boat!”
He was charging around like a bull after a red rag. He pushed past
her and ran out into the rain with Amane struggling to keep up. “Evan, wait!”
The closer he got to his father’s
boat, the more nervous he became. He wasn’t expecting a welcoming party but the oppressive sky and the lack of lights on board, suggested little evidence of life at all. He stopped beside the boat and looked it over as Amane caught up.
“They
might be inside you know? You said they were stuck in the cabin didn’t you?” said Amane. “It’s probably safer in there without the lights on too, so as not to attract
them
.”
Evan peered grimly at
Amane through squinting eyes, raindrops cascading down his face. He didn’t know whether to feel elated or deflated.
“I’m going in. Come on.”
He jumped down onto the deck and helped Amane on. The boat was tethered to the pier as normal, anchor down. There was no sign of a struggle. Or bullet-holes, thought Evan thankfully.
“Charlie? Anna?
It’s me, dad,” he called out loudly. Amane stood shivering behind him in silence in the rain.
As he
ran toward the cabin door, Amane called to him. “Hey, wait, I heard something.”
They listened and
Evan heard it too. A faint knocking was coming from beneath their feet. Evan dashed through the cabin door and down the stairs below deck, calling out constantly.
“Charlie! Anna! I’m here!”
“Be careful!” shouted Amane, lagging behind, battling to stay on her feet in the slippery, wet conditions. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she saw Evan standing in front of a wooden door.
“It won’t open,” he grunted, pulling the door handle frantically. The knocks and bangs on the other side were getting louder.
Amane put her hands over Evan’s and looked him in the eyes.
“Evan
, if it’s them, why haven’t they answered you?” she asked softly. Evan’s eyes locked on hers and she saw the fire in him burning brightly.
“They could be hurt
, Amane. I’ve got to get in there!”
He
yanked the handle violently, knocking Amane backwards, who slipped over on the damp floorboards and landed painfully on her back. The door flew open and Evan came face to face with his father. Tom had been dead for some time. His stomach was bloated and his face was pale and blotchy, purple patches contrasting horribly against pallid, loose skin. Tom’s grisly corpse lunged at Evan and they fell to the floor together in a heap. Amane screamed.
“Evan!”
She watched the two men grappling, Evan barely holding his father away, jaws snapping inches away from his face. Amane looked around the dim corridor and saw nothing she could use to help Evan. She scrambled back up the stairs to the cabin. Flinging aside fishing rods, tarpaulin, buckets and nets, she finally got lucky and found a rusty, yet solid, harpoon. She jumped down the steps two at a time.
“Evan!”
Amane cried out, raising the harpoon above her head with both hands. As he turned to look at her so did his father. Amane looked into the dead eyes and hesitated.
“
Youuuu.”
The word
dripped slowly out of the dead man’s mouth, striking dread and despair into Amane’s heart. Had he really spoken or had she imagined it? She stopped thinking and thrust the harpoon straight at him. Entering through one eye, it sliced through his head and embedded itself in the wall behind. Evan slipped out from beneath his father and watched as Tom writhed like a worm on a hook. Clammy dead hands reached up to the harpoon and started trying to pull it out.
Leaving
Amane trembling where she stood, Evan disappeared upstairs to the bridge and came back quickly with a large knife.
“I used to gut fish with this,” he said absently, turning it over in his hands.
He approached his still struggling father and watched as Tom struggled to get up.
“I’m sorry
, Dad.”
He jammed it into his father’s neck and began sawing. Coagulated blood flecked the knife as Evan used all his might to cut through muscle and bone. As he finally severed the head from the
body, he stepped back. The body sank to the floor unmoving. His father’s head was stuck to the wall like a trophy and the mouth was still moving but making no sound. Evan rammed the knife through his fathers’ remaining eye up to the hilt, and left it there. Eventually, the mouth stopped and Evan knew his father was truly dead at last. He turned and faced Amane who was in shock. He had to know what had happened here. Why was his father locked away? Where were his children?
“You okay?”
he asked Amane. She nodded and followed him silently as he stepped over Tom’s body into the room that had been locked. The first thing that struck them was the smell. Vomit and faeces dribbled down the walls, empty whisky bottles rolled around the floor dodging mouldy food trodden into mush. The room was a mess. The table and chairs were knocked over and torn books and paper littered the floor alongside cups, plates, broken glass and holes in the walls. Evan noticed the empty pill vials and chose to ignore them. He didn’t want to think of his once strong father ending his life alone in this cramped, cruddy cabin. There was no sign of anyone else. Amane sat on the small bed, exhausted.
“Charlie? Anna?”
Evan called out forlornly, knowing in his heart he wasn’t going to get an answer. He went back into the corridor and opened the remaining closed doors, but he knew he was going to find the rooms all empty. He returned to Amane and sat down beside her. He picked up a photo from the floor and straightened it out. It showed everyone on the boat smiling on a gloriously sunny day. His father must’ve taken the photo. Evan and his wife were hugging whilst Charlie and Anna were laughing, showing off a fish they’d caught. A picture perfect happy family, he thought.
Evan kicked the door in frustration and it slammed shut sending a sharp echo around the small room. He put his hands
on his head. It had taken so much to get this far, yet what had he achieved? He had had to put down his own father. His children were not here. He punched the wall, adding yet another hole to the soft wood.
“Where are they
, Amane? My dad’s dead and they’re not here. He was supposed to look after them. Where are they?” His face was burning with rage. This was not right. This was not supposed to happen.
“Evan, look.”
He looked at Amane who was staring at the cabin door. There was an envelope pinned to it with Evan’s name written on the front. He grabbed it, picked up one of the chairs from the floor, and plonked himself down heavily into it. Tearing open the envelope, he unfolded the letter inside and read aloud:
“Dear Evan,
if you are reading this then I am surely dead. I only hope that I stay that way.”
Evan paused and sighed
, exhausted. He wiped his moist eyes and continued.
“
Son, what has happened to us? The world was far from perfect but we didn’t deserve this. I am starting to lose my faith. Is this some terrible vengeance from God? Or some hideous disease mankind has dreamt up? I have no answers. I pray that you are all safe and have escaped this horrible mess.
The island ha
s been evacuated. I didn’t want to go; I wanted to wait for you so I hid down here. I don’t care if I get marooned here. This is my home. There are worse places to die.
I tried to reach you Evan but the phones stopped working. I waited for you, Alice and the kids but you never came.”
Evan stopped reading and looked up at Amane, confused.
“That’s not right,” Evan said. “
I’m sure we dropped the children off here. We did it every year. I can still picture it in my head. It’s one of the few memories I still have.”
Evan frowned
and read on.
“Please, God, let you all stay safe and out of this mess. Your plane was supposed to land today and when you didn’t arrive I asked the harbour
master if he could check. He managed to radio someone and he said there was a lot of trouble on the mainland, especially in the cities. He said Sydney and Melbourne were overrun. I guess you probably never took off.
Son, look after your family. Stay at home, lock yourself in, and hope this thing passes. I am going to wait here for you. I have nowhere else to go and it’s not safe out there. I heard gunfire today and shouting. I suspect I will be seeing your mother
quite soon which gives me some solace.
Take care son, I love you.”
Evan let the letter fall to the floor as a wave of nausea passed over him. He stood up feeling sick to the stomach, his head reeling.
“
Amane.”
Evan swayed
, feeling dizzy, and collapsed to the floor. She raced to help him and cradled him like a mother holding her child. They sat on the floor together, surrounded by filth.
“
Amane, we didn’t make it here. My memories of leaving the kids here on the boat are just that: memories, but not from last week. They’re from last month or last year, or God knows when! Oh Jesus...”
He t
ailed off, and through bleak, red-rimmed eyes, looked up at Amane.
“My kids.
They never left Melbourne. Oh God, they were on that plane with me. Alice and I were bringing them here. So Charlie must’ve called me from the plane. What if they didn’t get out before it exploded? I left them behind! Oh God, what have I done? Oh my God...”
He rocked back and forth
, crying uncontrollably, as Amane held him.
“Evan,” said
Amane, choking back tears, “what if they did get out?”
Epilogue
As he
slowly awoke, he found himself staring up into a cloudless blue sky. No. Not the sky, a ceiling. It was a sickly, pale blue ceiling. He yawned and looked around. The walls were the same depressing blue. His head hurt a bit and for a moment, he wasn’t sure where he was.
“Dad?
Mum?”
Charlie was cold.
He blinked his eyes open and his sister, Anna, woke up too as he called out.
“Come on
, Anna, I don’t like it in here. We’ve got to get home and find mum and dad. They’ll be waiting for us.”
Clutching a
rag doll, Anna reluctantly got up and rubbed her sleepy eyes. They had slept with the light on, too fearful to turn it off. The room was bare. There was a gurney with a wheelchair beside it and a first aid box on the wall, which had spilt its contents all over the floor.
“How’s your arm?” said Charlie
picking up plasters and stuffing them into his pockets.
“It still hurts. My whole arm hurts,” replied Anna
, kneading her arm, idly picking at the bandage her brother had crudely strapped on over the cuts last night.
“Come on
then, let’s go find mum and dad.”
Anna stopped.
“What if there are more of those funny people out there?” she said timidly, wide eyed with fear.
“We’ll be al
l right,” her brother assured her, “we can run faster than them!” He gave her a wink and opened the door. His confidence was just an act for his sister. Deep down he was petrified.
They stepped outside into a murky new world. Shivering with
cold, they walked out hand in hand. The meaty fog meant they couldn’t see far in front of them. As they trudged onward, Charlie looked up as a giant metal behemoth loomed over them. Two black windows appeared like eyes, staring down at him, and a shiver ran down his spine. Nervously, he continued onward, saying nothing. Charlie tripped over something in the dismal dawn and stuttered to a halt.
“Maybe we should wait a bit?” he asked his sister.
“When the sun comes up we’ll be able to see a bit better.”
He was worried about her. She was normally so full of life and now she was so quiet
. It was as if she was still asleep. She looked so sad but he didn’t know what to do to help her. All he knew was he had to look after his little sister.
“What’s that noise?” Anna said, tilting her head to one side, frowning.
He heard it too but couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from. It was just a faint rumbling sound. Muffled lights pierced the fog and Charlie realised it was a car. He began waving at it to stop.
Alice called out, “Help us,
help, please!”
They watched in horror as a zombie bounc
ed off the side of the car and headed in their direction attracted by Anna’s voice. Charlie waved frantically as the car slipped out into the fog, red lights fading to a dull crimson then blinking into nothingness. Through the grey, the zombie gained speed as it saw them. Charlie ran back underneath the plane and crouched behind a huge wheel. It reminded him of the horrible crash yesterday. This was as close as he ever wanted to be to a plane again.
“Anna, come on!”
Charlie looked back. Anna was rooted to the spot.
“No,
it’s okay, it’s mum!”
Anna
smiled and waved to Charlie then ran toward the zombie. He saw it was wearing a green top and had brown hair like their mother, but surely, it couldn’t be her? As it came closer, he recognised his dead mother. Her clothes were charred from the explosion and her face was drawn. Her eyes were dead, yet deadly focused on Anna. He knew it was her. He flashed back to yesterday and the last time he’d seen his mother. They had all been so excited to be going to Tasmania, to see Granddad and his boat, except the plane had crashed on take-off. He’d tried phoning them but got no answer. He hadn’t seen his parents since he’d woken up on the burning plane and dragged his sister off.
“Anna
! No!”
Charlie froze in disbelief as
his mother picked up Anna, who ran into welcoming open arms. Alice ripped her daughter apart. Anna screamed and fought: confused and tormented. Her dead mother had no hesitation in slicing Anna’s throat open and Charlie’s sister’s screams turned to gurgles.
Charlie
stood up, transfixed. He watched as his mother dropped his sister’s limp body on the ground and fixed her eyes on him. As his mother started toward him, snarling lips smothered with blood, he ran.
“Dad!
Dad! Where are you? Daaad!” he cried as he fled.
Wi
th his mother chasing after him, Charlie disappeared into the fog. Just as his mother caught up with him, he made it back to the medical room and slammed the door shut behind him. His dead mother beat furiously on the door, shaking it violently. Charlie curled into a ball in the corner of the room, away from the door, tears streaming down his face as he silently pleaded for his father to come take him home.
THE END
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