I had never even heard of a caltrop until that day.
It was sunny, it was the morning and I was speeding. I shouldn’t have been. There were abandoned cars all over the road, but I was enjoying myself weaving in and out of them. I was driving a Monaro V8 and it growled like a tiger on heat. The tyre’s squealed with each turn of the wheel and I felt like a god. Queen of all the world and invincible.
I hit the first row and heard all the tyres blow out. I lost control straight away and swerved across the road, clipping cars and the barrier that, thankfully, was still in place for I was on a bridge that spanned a wide river. As I fought for control I saw the next set lying across the road in a barrier that was at least eight metres wide. I hit the brakes and the tyres squealed, rubber shredded and flew, the car swung to the left and slammed into the concrete barrier. The airbag deployed in my face and bloodied my nose, my head bounced off the bag and my seat like a ping pong ball caught between two Chinese Olympic table tennis players.
The bag deflated and I slumped onto the wheel. I wasn’t yet sure what I had seen on the road nor was I sure why I had crashed. But I had and now I had to move. I was not dressed for this day. It was hot, North Queensland is always hot, but this was early November, before the rains and it was hot. I was wearing only a thin cotton singlet, a pair of cut-off shorts and a thin pair of rubber thongs. I opened the door to the car and stepped out onto the road.
The caltrop sliced like a razor up the back of my ankle. I fell from the car onto my right side and two more of the deadly devices pierced my side just under my ribs, another went right into my calf, a fourth and fifth slashed open my arm. As I came to a rest I was staring at a sixth barely a centimetre from my eye. Naturally I screamed in pain.
And that was my... well it was another mistake for the day.
It heard me. I don’t know where it came from. I heard it first, it screamed in the way that they did - a wet, high pitched gurgle. Despite the pain that tore through my body I jerked my head around to see the creature. It was about twenty metres away and ran straight at the caltrop field.
I screamed.
I have seen too many people killed by these creatures and I did not want to die that way. I tried to move but the pain tore at my muscles and left me weeping with the agony. The creature charged the field and stepped onto several caltrops straight away. It still felt pain and it was that which saved my life, at least temporarily. It fell onto the caltrops and howled in agony yet it still tried to crawl towards me. I was paralysed with fear and pain. I could only watch as it advanced on me, drawn to the sounds of my cries.
The steel of the caltrops scraped on the asphalt as it advanced with every passing second.
I found new energy and determination and started to crawl away. The steel spikes tore at me and I screamed but I was suddenly determined not to die here. It grabbed my hair.
If you where smart you could avoid Turned and I thought that I was smart; but I was wrong and a fool and now one of the them, one of the Turned had me by the hair and it pulled with all of its ferocious might. My head snapped back and steel spikes raked the back of my head.
Then I heard the shot. It was a daring thing to use a gun when the Turned were about. They were blind, they had no sense of smell but they had excellent hearing and that single shot echoed for several seconds. I was hardly aware of this, I was just relieved that it had let go of my hair and the white dots that had been dancing before my eyes had a chance to dissipate.
“Steven,” I heard a man’s voice while my eyesight cleared. I didn’t know who he was talking to. “Steven. Steven.” He repeated the name several more times and then laughed aloud. “You cheeky monkey. I’ve been looking for you, Steven. I guess I was using the wrong bait.”
He was talking to it, the Turned. He must have known it before the change. I tried to focus my eyes and saw myself looking at a middle aged man. He stood at the edge of the caltrop field, his eyes focused totally on the creature behind me. What did I see that morning? Who did I see? I did not see the man that he would become, but I did see a man who had not let the fall of mankind drag him down. He had a goatee beard that was short and neat and clean shaven cheeks and neck and his hair was cut short, what I could see under his wide brimmed hat. He was dressed for action but not over burdened and he carried himself as if this was what he was born for, that Armageddon was what he waited for all his life. He was confident, aware and I thought quite mad.
He talked to the Turned still and ignored me completely. I was not used to being ignored. I am not vain; it was hard to be vain in those times. I was thin, food was hard to come by and my bones stuck out, my hair was long but hadn’t been washed in so long that I almost had dreadlocks; I was dirty and generally unpleasant to look at but I was female and just over thirty and to many survivors I was a prize, a trophy and a toy.
And now I was being ignored.
“You were hiding in those cars, weren’t you.” He pointed to some wrecked cars piled on top of each other by the side of the road. “I searched them. I searched everywhere. And here you are, you bastard, clawing your way through my caltrop field after a fresh piece of meat to rip at.”
He moved into the field kicking the metal spikes out of the way. He came towards me but stayed out of my reach and stepped past me to Steven. I turned my head as best I could to look at what was happening. He had shot it in the arm that had gripped my hair. That appendage was now sprawled uselessly on the road. With its other arm it tried to raise itself up but the Stranger (that’s what he was to me then) knelt beside it and just slapped it down as if he was slapping a disobedient dog.
“You may just be the last, Steven. Maybe not. Maybe more of you are out there that I haven’t found. A lifetime’s work to hunt you all.” He shrugged. “Not a life wasted, Steven. Not wasted doing that.” He placed the muzzle of a pistol against Steven’s forehead. The Turned mewled softly as if knowing that death was a release from the pitiful creature it had become.
The Stranger fired once and I heard the wet splash of blood and brains behind the pistols’ retort as they struck the road. I turned expectantly to the Stranger waiting for him to help me but he turned his back to me and walked out of the field.
“No.” I called out, “Help me. You can’t leave me here. Please.” I started to weep as the pain started again. The caltrops dug into my side and calf, I was soaked in my own blood. I didn’t want to die I wanted to live and I don’t know why. I had run from the last man who had offered me protection; that’s why I was on the road and dressed so poorly. I had been hungry, he had the food and I had breasts. It was an old story and not much of one and now I am ashamed of what I did. At least I stole his car and ran but what good was that to me now. Now I was left for dead on the road, if a Turned didn’t get me a pack of wild dogs would.
“At least,” I called out to his back, “give me a gun so I can fight the dogs when they come.”
He turned and looked at me. “So, you have some spirit.” He said, all trace of the madness gone from his voice.
I tried to look defiantly at him but I think I just looked scared and stupid because he suddenly laughed and walked towards me, casually kicking the caltrops out of the way. He stooped in front of me and for a minute I thought he was actually going to pass a gun to me but instead he grabbed me under the left arm and roughly hauled me to my feet. I screamed in pain, at least I think I did because I blacked out.
When I woke I could see that I was in a darkened room. just darkened. I was lying in the centre of a gloriously soft double bed, under a single cotton sheet. It must’ve still been light outside because the shades were all drawn and the room wasn’t black. I could feel that I was nude under the blanket and there were some heavy bandages on my side and leg. But strangest of all I could feel a soft, cool breeze blowing on my face. at the end of the bed was an electric fan slowly panning the room.
I feel ashamed of it now. The way I judged this man. I didn’t know this stranger and I didn’t know his intentions. Ever since the world changed society had fallen into some baser traits. He with the biggest gun ruled and more often than not ruled ruthlessly. For these men I had always been the girl who had been hidden in the back and bought out when they wanted to show off. In both towns I had lived in I had been that woman. I dread saying the word now but to survive I became a whore. I had the body for it and men wanted it and I wanted food.
Now in a clean bed, with dressed wounds and a fan blowing a gentle breeze on me I figured that this man wanted what I had. Why else would I be naked? I didn’t know quite who I was dealing with at this stage and I feel a little bit foolish now for my thinking. I heard the front door open and close and heavy boots on some stairs. I pretended sleep but he didn’t come immediately into my room, he seemed to potter around the house doing things that my hearing couldn’t identify then before I knew it I felt weight on the bed and I steeled myself for what was to come. It was not what I was expecting; he slapped me on the face, it was not a hard slap more a gentle slap to wake me up. I opened my eyes and stared at him. He was dirtier than this morning soaked with sweat and streaked with dirt. He said nothing to me just handed me a sandwich.
I sat bolt upright, snatching the blanket to my chest and took the offered meal. I took a big bite and could taste rough bread, lettuce, tomato, onion and beef; there was some pepper on there too. It was glorious. I took another big bite before I finished the first and he admonished me.
“Slowly, young lady. I think it has been a while since your last meal.” It had been two days since I had anything other than some stale muesli bars. I obeyed him though, and finished my mouthful before taking a smaller bite and chewing more sedately. He offered me a glass of orange juice and I had to stop myself from snatching it from his hands. With shaking fingers I took the offered glass and drank deeply. It was mango juice and it was divine. I drank half and then ate some more of the beef sandwich. He watched me the entire time, every time I looked at him he was looking straight into my eyes. With any other man it would have unnerved me but I felt safe under his gaze and I didn’t know why.
When I was done he took my plate and glass and placed them on the side table. He stood over me, looking down at me. I was clutching the sheet over my breasts and looking at anything but him; I sighed and lowered the blanket. He reached down and with finger and thumb pinched the blanket and covered me back up.
“Get some rest.” He said and left. I heard footsteps and the front door close and I slumped back down in the bed.
I slept most of the afternoon and into the night. When I woke the house was dark, dogs were howling and they sounded close. I believed I was safe from the dogs in here. Before long I was asleep again.
I was awoken in the dawn by my host hauling up the blinds and allowing an awfully bright morning light into the room.
“No offence ma’am but you stink and before I go do my chores you are having a shower.” He threw a towel on me and walked out the door. I wrapped the towel around myself and walked out into the hallway, he was outside the door and directed me to the bathroom not far away.
“Do you need a hand.” This was delivered factually not sexually. I shook my head and he turned and left. The bathroom was clean and bright and I wondered just what he wanted me to do. Running water was a thing of the past. With little else to do I reached into the shower stall and turned the hot water tap; water sprang forth from the shower-head and in seconds turned hot. I snatched my hand out and adjusted the temperature with the cold tap and then stepped into the shower letting the water pound onto my body, my wounds stung but I refused to let that little discomfort stop me from my shower. I was embarrassed by the amount of brown water that swirled at my feet. On a glass tray in the stall was a bar of new soap, a razor and bottles of shampoo and conditioner both unopened; I sighed almost in ecstasy I lathered my hair, scrubbed my body clean and shaved.
I emerged from the shower and returned to my room, the stranger was nowhere in sight, while I had bathed he had made my bed with a new sheets and laid out a selection of clothes on the bed they were all different sizes and all sorts and in the end I settled on some three-quarter cargo pants and a yellow T-shirt. There were some fresh dressings laid out and I removed my sodden ones and replaced them with the clean. He had supplied shoes but they were all boots and for the moment I decided to go barefoot. Thus dressed I padded into the hallway and followed my nose to the kitchen.
It was empty, he was out the rear of his house boiling eggs and cooking toast over a large fire pit with a wealth of red coals lining the bottom. He heard timber creak on the stairs and he turned to me. So far his every action towards me had been one of indifference, like I was more of a nuisance than any thing else, there had been kindness but it was undercut by a kind of apathy. When he saw me on those stairs however I saw his eyes widen, he recovered quickly and had I blinked at that moment I would have missed it. But it was there, I saw it and I tried to play on it. I looked shyly at him and tossed my hair..... then proceeded to slip on the stairs and stumbled down, I didn’t fall but I lost all composure. I decided to watch the steps as I descended the rest of the way down.
At the bottom he handed me a plate and pointed to the bread on the other side of the pit. It was lying on a grate and browning nicely, I grabbed all four slices placed there and handed them to him. He took two and then sat down.
“No butter, sorry.” He said to me and waved me to a seat. “I haven’t made any. How do you like your eggs?” I was actually speechless for a second and didn’t know what to reply. “Runny? Cooked through?” he offered.
“Runny.” I said quickly and he leaned forward and scooped them out of the boiling water and ladled them onto my plate.
“Tea? Coffee?”
“Coffee.” I said in almost a dream-like state. He smiled at me and poured rich, dark coffee into a mug. He offered milk and sugar to me.
We ate in silence, watched by five dogs of various breeds, which lay sprawled on the ground near the base of a small fruit tree.
“My kids.” He said pointing to the dogs. “There’s more around the front of the house but these guys are my specials.” He sighed then and turned to me and held out his hand. “Jack, Jack Riley. And I’m sorry for staring yesterday and giving you the wrong impression.”
Again I was momentarily speechless, but I was able to find my voice soon enough. “Kate Anderson. And don’t worry about that. Forget that happened. I was a bit...” I couldn’t finish and he smiled. I loved that smile, his whole face beamed and it was infectious; I always smiled back whenever he smiled at me, I could never help myself.
After breakfast he said he had chores to do. He asked how I was feeling and if I was up to a little light work. If nothing else I guess I owed him that, I said I was fine. He walked me to the rear of the house and I saw that he had pulled down all the fences that had once surrounded his house. Laid in neat rows were several dozen raised plots of land each one surrounded by a foot high corrugated iron fence, within the plots were a wide variety of vegetables. He asked me to weed the plots as best I could.
“Where will you be?” I asked a little nervously. I had no idea what to expect around this area.
He sensed my fear and said. “Don’t worry, Steven, yesterday, was the last of the Turned around here and the dogs will fend off any wild dogs that get too close. All the houses around here are unlocked, so if you’re scared run to the closest one and lock yourself in. I’ll be back at lunch.”
He seemed so confident and I guess it rubbed off because I was not so worried after that. I walked with him to a large shed across the road from his house that he had converted into a stable. He had turned half the street into his own yard. It was clear of cars and large trees and some of the houses had collapsed. He had pulled them down and used the materials to fix the other houses; piles of brick and timber lay neatly stacked all around.
In the stable were six horses, corralled three a side. Jack pulled a saddle from a post and entered a corral, as he saddled the horse I asked him why he didn’t just drive.
“Fuel is getting scarce and I have to travel further and further out to find it. The horses work fine and I’d rather save the juice for the generators I use.”
I nodded absently. Tonight I would have to talk to him about what he had here and why he was alone, if he was alone; but I hadn’t seen a sign of anyone else.
“If you want to go, there’s a car at the end of the road with a full tank that I keep in running order. The keys are in the ignition.” He seemed sad when he said that.
“I’ll stay here, if that’s OK.” I said and I knew that I would.
He smiled at that and then finished saddling the horse and left with a tip of his hat to me.
I busied myself that morning in the gardens weeding as best I could. I was only interrupted once when a dog that was lying next to me suddenly perked up his ears and growled softly. I spun around but could see nothing, the dog continued to stare straight ahead, its ears moving like radar dishes but then it dropped its head and went to sleep again. I relaxed a bit but remained tense.
Just before Jack came back for lunch I was forced to stop my weeding. My yellow T-shirt was stained with fresh blood and one of my wounds was bleeding again, it ached terribly. I went into the through a bottom door and walked into a massive library. The walls were piled thick with books on every topic under the sun. There were a lot of books on horse husbandry and dog care and a whole shelf on home maintenance. There were DIY magazines stacked on the floor next to a pile of gardening ones. Tucked into a corner was an old arm chair that looked very comfortable, on one arm there was a fiction novel called ‘Sharpe’s Tiger’ on the other was a first aid book opened to a section on puncture wounds; I smiled. I wandered the shelves and found a whole wall of fiction books, some had library markings on them and on others price tags. It appeared my dear Jack read an awful lot, but really what else was there to do and to give him his credit ever since the coming of the Turned Jack, it seemed, had done nothing but better himself which was a lot more than could be said about many of the other people who had survived, myself included. I realised then, that I had accepted fate and kneeled before it with my head bowed; Jack had stood and spat in Fate’s face. I was a sheep that had wandered with the flock and accepted my lot, Jack was the wolf. He was not the only one who faced the challenges of the new world but Jack had a heart. Most men who came across a girl in distress would have raped her and left her to die.
I find myself constantly comparing Jack to other men that I have met since the Turning. I seemed to have the worst luck when it came to men both before and after the Turning. While I had seen several men who had loved their wives dearly and nurtured their children with kindness, but these men were cowed by others who were stronger, they were sheep just like me. The wolves of the world mostly seemed concerned with themselves first and everyone else as an afterthought and Jack did come across as just that sort of man at first. I was to find the reasons for that later; all I saw at this point in time was a man who seemed to want to help me if I proved myself worthy of that help. I think he saw in me another weakling, walked over by the world and its change and whether he took pity on me or what, I didn’t know. I felt that offering me the car was a test, to see if I would take what I could and run at the first chance. I saw for myself here a chance at some redemption for my own stained soul and with that thought in my head I would stay and work and prove to him that I was a worthy of survival.
All my life I have felt like I was drifting; jobs, relationships, I have had so many of both that I was unsure of the total number. I had always felt somewhat numbed by life, it was easy for me and I was easy with it. The Turning changed that but I found my way to coast through even if it was at the cost of my soul. In Jack’s company for barely a day I was standing in his library and starting to reorganise my life, I didn’t even know if he was going to let me stay but I wanted to. Desperately. To stay, to work and to feel like I belonged. I realised that here I felt happy.
Jack came home then, I could hear the horse’s hooves on the road and the excited barking of his dogs. I went out the front door and watched him as he tied his horse to a post in the shade of a sprawling mango tree heavy with fruit, he placed the horse on a long line near a trough so it could drink and graze. He paused at a mango tree and plucked some fruit, dropping them in a bag he proceeded towards the house. I greeted him with a wave and he smiled at me, clearly happy that I had not run and then his face fell and he rushed to my side dropping his bags.
“You’re bleeding again.” He pulled up the side of my T-shirt and inspected the wounds, gently peeling the bandage off. I winced as the tape pulled my skin. He instructed me to hold my shirt up as he cleaned the wound and applied a new bandage. The bleeding had stopped and he looked happy with his work. “You should sit down.” He pointed to the old lounge.
I obeyed and he went back outside to collect his bags. When he came back in he placed the bag he was carrying at my feet and stepped back.
“I grabbed you some stuff that I didn’t think of yesterday, might come in handy for you.” He said pulling out a knife from a pouch on his hip and cutting open a mango. He scored the cheek and then passed it to me.
I thanked him and then looked in the bag, it was a red Target bag from the old department store and inside was a wealth of bras and undies in all different sizes, some deodorant bottles and feminine products, I couldn’t help but smile and thanked him again.
“I didn’t know your size so I just I grabbed a few. Tomorrow if you’re up to it I’ll take you to the mall down the road,” he pointed vaguely north, “get some things for you.”
“What should I grab?” I asked. Everything he had grabbed for me yesterday had seemed functional or in the very least practical.
He just shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
We ate mangoes for lunch under a metal framed pergola and drank iced water. In this house Jack had three deep freezers crammed with meat, fish and packets of frozen vegetables all powered by a large generator that ran amazingly quiet. He had generators for fans and fridges as well and several spares that he either raided for parts or used when one broke down. Those units and the fuel for them were kept in a house further down the street that was the only one he locked. The house that he had chosen to live in had a bore water pump and tank. He explained to me that he preferred to cook over an open fire where possible and save the gas bottles that he had collected for when the weather was bad. I wanted to ask him more about his life here but it seemed lunch had ended. He stood up and excused himself, he asked me to relax for the rest of the day. Earlier he had praised me for the work in the gardens. Jack showed me how to operate one of the generators that worked the fans and then left me with a library of books to lose myself in, though I confess that I was never really much of a reader. Now I settled down and grabbed the first thing I saw and read until the sun was setting and Jack returned.
We ate fish for dinner that night. Jack cooked, preparing the fish with oil and herbs and then wrapping them in foil and burying them deep in the coals of the fire. While he did that I peeled potatoes and topped and tailed some beans and placed them in separate billies that were filled with boiling water. We drank iced lemon cordial with dinner and then as I watched Jack feed the dogs from a large green bin, filled with dog biscuits. Each dog ate from their own bowl and no one intruded on the other, there were eight dogs in total, all large breeds, two were Rottweilers, there was a German Sheppard, three wolf hounds and two ridgebacks. The dogs all seemed to get along well. While he fed them Jack explained that he had had others but they had died in one way or another; snake bite and feral dog packs were the biggest killers.
I knew that wild dogs were a big problem everywhere I had been but the other big problem, the Turned, seemed not to be an issue here. I asked Jack about it.
“I killed them.” He answered simply. He moved to a fridge and withdrew two bottles of beer and then sat back down near me; the sun was disappearing behind the mountains now and with a poker Jack stirred the fire into life and added more wood. “A hundred odd of us survived the Turning, there may have been more, but a hundred of us were able to band together and put up some sort of defence. We fortified the old council building in town and from there we collected supplies and fuel and lived a very much day to day existence.” He spoke forcefully next and with great passion. “We we’re dying in that building, slowly, one at a time. Forage parties lost at least one person a week to the Turned. We were starving. I asked for volunteers to go raid the army base see what we could find. You know the Turned, they can’t see but they hear really well. I had a plan to use that against them lure them in with loud noises and then pick them off but we needed weapons something that could go on full auto if the need arose; there was a lot more of them than us and the army had the fire power we needed. Ten people agreed to follow me and the raid was a great success; we got rifles, ammo, explosives. We’d pick cars with large speaker systems, wired them to explode and then turn on the radios full ball. When the Turned showed up we’d blow the car and then pick off the survivors. It worked really well, we lost a couple of people,” he shrugged, “but it was progress and on the way we found more survivors and more supplies.
“And that’s when it started to go badly, one raid failed and a lot of people died. The others turned against me, turned me out. I had a few supporters and they backed me and together we started the farm here. Then the cyclone came. There was no early warning system anymore so we all just thought it was another storm. It was big and it lasted all night. It killed a lot of the Turned with fallen trees and debris flying everywhere but I later learned that the others who had turned against me had decided to flee the city on boats the morning of the storm. For the next week a lot of bodies washed up on the shore. We found no survivors.” He took a pull from his beer and was quite for a while. I was unsure what to say. I opened my mouth a few times but nothing came out.
“What happened to everyone else? Your friends that stayed with you?” I finally asked.
“The Turned, snakes, dogs. There were only ever a dozen of us left after the storm. We continued to hunt the Turned and build this,” he waved his arms around him. “A big fire in town about twelve months ago I think finished a lot more Turned off then I ever did. Rain stopped the blaze before it spread too far; I think it was started by lightning.”“All the Turned here are dead now?” I asked. No matter where I had been I had never lived without the threat of being torn apart by a pack of Turned. “I think so. It’s hard to be sure. There may be others that are on the outskirts of town. I don’t venture out further than I can travel on horse in a day. I knew of Steven and had been hunting him for some time but he was clever. When they’re alone they get smart. You really took care of him for me, thank you.” He held his bottle out to me and I clinked mine against his.
“You’re welcome.” I replied and was rewarded with that smile again.
The next morning Jack had me dress in pants and boots; he gave me a riding helmet and made me lather on some sunscreen lotion.
“There are two things I try to avoid,” he told me, “skin cancer and dengue fever.”
“ Dengue?” I was to find out that he regularly sprayed his house and lands for mosquitoes. He handed me a belt with a pistol on it and gave me the instructions of just point and shoot. Thus set we mounted our horses and set off. One thing I could do fairly well was ride and I surprised Jack who still looked a little wobbly in the saddle to me even though he had been riding for a while. We worked for the morning doing the jobs that Jack said he always did. We checked fences and cattle. We checked traps and Jack shot several dogs that had been caught in them; some were already dead and the traps just needed to be reset and baited. With a purple can of spray paint Jack marked cars that he hadn’t checked for fuel or items of use.
We watered the horses by the river at mid-morning and let them rest while Jack went to check some crab pots he had laid. The catch was only small ones which he threw back. He let me try and catch one, I squealed and laughed when one tried to nip me and then I succeeded in grabbing it by the swimmers and flicked it into the water. We rode off shortly after and finished several smaller jobs before Jack led me to the mall. We dismounted at an entrance that was just some glass auto doors all smashed and walked the horses to a nearby nature strip where they could graze and tied them there.
It was eerie in the mall, everything seemed close. Jack made me stay close to him and I didn’t need the encouragement. The mall was only small and we walked the halls of it once fully before we both started to relax and Jack said that I could begin to gather whatever I wanted. It was a fun afternoon; I grabbed clothes off racks that had been sitting for nearly two years without the benefit of a shopper. Some clothes were soiled, moth-eaten or both but on the whole everything seemed fine and apart from some mess here and there the mall just really looked closed. The front windows were smashed at the Target store and we stepped over the broken glass to gain entrance. I tried some clothes on and modelled for him and others I just draped over my body and took, we found a suitcase and loaded that up. Everything I grabbed was functional work clothes; jeans, cargo pants, shirts and Jack nodded approval at what I took. There was very little in the supermarket, Jack had already been through it but he checked again anyway. We walked back to the horses, secured the suitcase to the packhorse and then mounted up and turned for home.
And that was how the days went, we got up with the sun and worked all day, feeding animals, collecting eggs, milking cows, checking fences and traps and repairing the generators or the house, tending the gardens, preparing meat, fishing and checking houses for anything of use stopping only for lunch. On Sundays we did a half day of work, a quick check of the property and some work in the gardens and the rest of the day was spent quietly doing whatever we wished. Jack usually read and I was happy to sit and read with him. It was hard work and after two weeks I had gained weight and muscle. I looked healthy and I felt great. Some days I was so tired that I could barely move but I was always happy and always willing to try everything Jack did. He confessed to me one day while working on the roof that this was the hardest thing that he had to do.
“I’m petrified of heights. I can’t stand them.” When I stood on the edge of the roof and looked down he nearly fainted and ordered me, the first time he had ever done so, to get away from the edge. I laughed at him and called him a wuss. He frowned at me and that made me laugh harder nearly making me fall off the roof.
Friday, however, was my favourite day, we worked around the house for the first few hours and then we gathered in the kitchen of our house, I had started to refer to it as our house some days before and Jack had smiled and said that what was his was mine in a joking way but I think he was a little nervous. On Fridays we baked, bread and damper for the most part, for the week ahead; the old bread was thrown to the chooks. We also baked biscuits and sometimes cakes, but in the kitchen we relaxed and joked, we laughed loud and confessed our fears. I told Jack my story while mixing biscuit dough and he held me for a while afterward. He told me that he had killed his girlfriend, who had Turned,
“It wasn’t her, just the shell of her. She had died the day she caught the Turning. But to see her and to fire the shot was the hardest thing I had ever done.”
And I held him afterward.
I loved to work in the kitchen with Jack. We made sauces and froze them, soups, prepared meat and fish for the freezer, made pies. We had food fights with lumps of dough and we laughed like loons.
It was three weeks since I had stumbled into Jack’s life and I was riding with him along the fences checking for holes or signs that dogs had tried to get in, the two Rottweilers ran with us when they stopped and pricked their ears. I reached for my pistol that I carried on my thigh and I saw Jack grab his assault rifle and thumb the safety off. The dogs looked north and growled low in their throats and then barked and raced off. Jack smiled at me and shouldered the rifle.
“Come on.” He called urging his horse to a canter. I followed and soon we were at a gate where a young man, younger than me stood with a horse tied to a tree and several cows behind it, three enormous Bull Mastiffs sat at his feet.
“Jack.” He called and waved his hat in the air.
Jack waved back and stopped his horse at the gate and dismounted. He tied his horse to the fence and I followed suit.
“Shit!” the young man said with a smile. “And I thought that I had found some stuff.” He tipped his hat to me and I looked at Jack, worried.
“Kate,” Jack said, “This is Ross Green. He lives in the next town over. He has a farm just like this one.”
“I was smart, though.” Ross said smiling, “I made my farm in an old orchard a long way from where any Turned might be wandering.” He held his hand out and I shook it. “Came to trade Jack, and I’ll gladly take any info you have on if Miss Kate here has a sister.”
I smiled and sighed with relief. Ross was a nice guy and hard not to like. He, like Jack, had started to live life again and had set up a larger farm than our one. He spent most of his time in the saddle wandering around his estate. He came once every couple of months to Jack’s farm to trade. Jack invited him back to the house and over dinner they discussed what each other wanted. In truth I didn’t listen much but in the end Jack got a new cow, a new horse, a bull mastiff, four fruit tree seedlings and a sack of dragon fruit for three hundred rounds of ammunition, some batteries and globes for a torch, a case of kerosene and a stack of candles and lighters.
I thought Jack came off way better but Ross didn’t seem to mind and the two men got along very well together. They talked of what I guess were farm things but later in the night when I was getting tired and they were getting drunker they started to talk about movies they loved and Ross spoke emphatically about Star Wars. When I confessed that I hadn’t seen it. Ross’ face fell and he chided me for not having done so.
“Even before the Turning?”
I shook my head.
“Man,” he spoke to Jack. “What the hell are you doing? Sit the girl down and make her watch Star Wars.”
But Jack was asleep and I said I should get to bed. Ross bade me goodnight and pulled his hat over his eyes. The next morning he was gone. And I had fruit trees to plant.
It was Thursday, Thor’s day I had discovered for I was reading a book on Norse history, four weeks after I had fallen into the caltrop field and Jack had been letting me go out on foraging trips on my own for about a week now. This day was the furthest I had travelled from the homestead about ten kilometres away in the heart of what had once been an upmarket residential area. Jack had not searched these houses and he had asked if I wouldn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all. I had a shopping list, several saddlebags, a pack horse as well as my own, a beautiful bay I called Rider, an assault rifle, a pouch of grenades and a pistol. Jack had taught me to shoot and I was surprised by how good I was at it; on average I was a better shot than Jack.
The first house I entered yielded nothing, the fridge was full of mouldy food and shrunken, brown fruit and vegetables, the pantry had been raided by mice and rats and stunk with their faeces. I left and went next door, I usually worked up the street to a certain number and then down the other side. This house was locked but there was a sliding door out the back and I smashed that and walked in. In the kitchen I found a metal container with some flour in a metal tin that had no weevils, flour was always a great find as Jack hadn’t yet figured out how to make his own, I thought that you just ground wheat sheaves, but we weren’t exactly growing wheat either. I stuffed the flour in my bag and continued my search. I left that house with two new bras, eight pairs of undies, a T-shirt, the flour and several packets of dried fruit that weren’t opened. And so I went up the street and down the other side, I found at least a kilo of self-raising flour, a fruit tree full of lemons and another of oranges which I took the best fruit and a cutting that we could hopefully strike. I noted the address to return later for more fruit. I also found some boots for Jack and socks, more T-shirts for both of us, some shirts for Jack and a nice hat for myself when in the garden. I loaded the pack horses’ saddle bags, distributing the weight evenly over the animal’s back. I placed the hat on the horse’s head and secured it under her chin with a piece of string. The poor horse seemed to know that she was being dressed up and rolled her eyes and shook her head. I kissed her nose and told her she looked lovely and then heard a noise from behind me. Both horses shied nervously and took steps backward straining on their reins that I had secured to the post of a carport. I cursed myself for not bringing a dog.
I shrugged the assault rifle off my back and tucked it into my shoulder, the barrel pointing at the ground, angled away from my body. I rolled my fingers along the fore-grip and called out.
“I’m armed and not shy to use it. Come out now!” I put more authority in my voice than I felt but I needed to sound confident. I raised the rifle up but peered over the scope and along the iron sights. There was more noise behind the nearest fence and the sound of something jumping over the wooden palisade and thumping into the ground on the other side. Jack had told me that when alone the Turned got smarter and I had a terrible thought that this was a Turned and it was trying to get behind me. I flicked the safety off my rifle and made sure the fire selector was on single shot all by touch and then turned in a slow circle. I moved away from the horses that were pulling hard on their reins and starting to whinny in panic, and went to the middle of the street.
I heard the running feet, the slap of bare skin on asphalt, coming from behind me, before I chance to react I was slammed from the rear and toppled on the road tearing up the heels of my palms quite badly on the tarmac, the rifle clattered away from my reach. The Turned was standing on the kerb and watching me, it had once been a young woman, maybe a few years younger than me but now she was gone, turned to a feral creature of instinct. Its eyes were closed and fused shut with dirt, its clothes were ragged scraps, its nails long and dirty and the hair wild and matted. It hissed, gurgled and made other noises but none seemed to be a call for others, that call I knew well for I heard it many times before. But this one seemed truly alone and that gave me confidence and made it cautious. I went for the rifle but it twisted with my movement and mimicked my actions with its own. The Turned can’t seem to smell, they can’t see but they have exceptional hearing and it was focusing that sense on me and me alone. The horses were neighing in panic and birds were calling from nearby trees but the Turned never took its attention away from me. I tried to stand but it took several fast paced steps forward and I froze and it did too. I had no idea what this creature was doing, whether or not this was some strange Turned game before it leaped on me and started tearing me apart. Contrary to popular belief the Turned did not eat people, it’s hard to explain but the Turned had a great hatred of humans, maybe they knew what they once were and despised us for being healthy when they were just shadows of humanity. Whatever it was, whole packs would literally tear their victims apart and then beat the ground with the pieces. They hated us and I hated them.
The Turned moved when I moved because it could hear the scrape of my boots on the ground, the crunch of gravel, even the shifting of my clothes. It knew my moves as soon as I took them. I was lying on the road with the sun beating down on me and humidity leeching the water from my body, the road was like a hotplate and it was starting to burn me through my clothes. I couldn’t go for the rifle, I would never be able to aim in time before it fell on me. Slowly as if I was in a long second being played out, I reached for the pistol on my belt. I found the cover and the plastic clip that secured it in place and with a soft snap undid the cover. The Turned had heard the noise and cocked its head to the side unsure of what it had heard. I pulled the pistol out a centimetre at a time but from my angle I could not get a clear shot. I had to sit up.
I did it all in one fluid movement, I pushed myself up right, tucked my feet in under me while moving forward and got into a crouch with one foot flat on the road and one curled underneath me. The Turned was already moving and my first shot, my only shot, came before I had the pistol in a good and steady position. The gun bucked violently the shot went high but high was good. The round punched through the Turned’s throat, the beast bucked and coughed and a spray of blood went high into the air and then its inertia had it crashing into me. We went down in a tangle of limbs and I was screaming, the creature jerked and clutched its throat as blood pumped from the severed arteries. I felt something warm splash my face and fill my mouth. I choked and retched and threw up in the street as the Turned drummed its heels on the ground and gagged its last gasp of air.
I panicked then and rushed to the horses to grab my water bottle. I opened the bottle and let it empty onto my face. I rubbed at the blood and scrubbed with my free hand. I gathered my weapons and freed the horses and then mounted up and raced towards home as fast as the horses could run.
I don’t remember the journey home, I do remember that the horses were puffed and lathered in sweat when I dismounted at the gate. I didn’t tie them up I just ran for the house. Jack must have heard me and he came out to greet me, he was smiling but I didn’t see it, when he saw the blood on my clothes and still stained on my face his jaw dropped and he seemed suddenly angry. I flung myself at him, clutching him tightly and I wept uncontrollably. For a time I could not speak and when the words came they were fitful and gibberish.
“Tell me what happened.” Jack asked as he stroked my hair.
Finally I found my voice and was able to say.
“There was a Turned. I killed it but I got splashed.” My words dissolved back into tears, yet I saw Jack’s face drop and his eyes widen. He held me tightly.
“It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.” He told me over and over again. He made me undress and shower and while I scrubbed myself raw, Jack burned my clothes and unpacked the horses and rubbed them down. He met me at the bathroom door with a towel and helped me dry off. I dressed in pyjamas and went to bed, Jack crouched beside the bed and held my hand and brushed his fingers through my hair.
“If I turn,” I said in voice barely above a whisper, “You have to kill me. Kill me straight away.”
“You won’t. No. That’s not going to happen. You won’t.” Jacks eyes were red and tears rolled down his cheeks. He held me and we cried and eventually I fell asleep.
When the sun rose I woke and saw Jack resting on the side of the bed. I cried with relief at the fact that I could see because sight was always the first thing to go when someone Turned. Jack woke and we laughed with relief. I tried to rise but felt very weak and Jack told me to lie still while he got me something to eat and drink.
I felt awful by the time he returned but I ate a little toast and drank some green tea, but I couldn’t keep it down and threw up all over the bed and floor. I tried to move to the bathroom but crippling pains doubled me over and I was wracked with violent retching. I threw up everything in my stomach and then dry retched yellow bile onto the floor. I was suddenly freezing yet sweat broke out all over my body. I collapsed on the floor and started shaking so terribly. Jack lifted me and carried me to the shower were he ran cold water over me and cleaned me up. He then carried me to his bed and retrieved a bucket for me in case I felt sick again. I passed out.
Jack cleaned my mess while I was out and he later told me that I shivered and called out and screamed. He tried to make me drink but when something touched my lips I threw it back up almost instantly. Jack nursed me as best he could, forgoing the duties of the farm to clean me, feed me, read to me as I rambled in my fever.
It lasted for two days before it broke and it left me as weak as a kitten. I could hardly move but was able to eat and drink little bits at a time without bringing it back up. Assured that I was on the mend Jack left me to check the farm. He returned that night and we ate dry toast and drank glasses of water together. He told me that dogs had penetrated the perimeter and killed a cow.
“I’m sorry, Jack. It’s my fault that the cow died.” My voice was weak.
“I can replace a cow.” He said as he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead, “I can’t replace a Kate.” He left with my plate and I suddenly felt much better.
By the week’s end I was feeling much better. I still felt a little weak and got dizzy spells if I moved too fast but I could eat a full meal with no trouble, I actually found that after my stomach settled I was absolutely ravenous and I ate two whole meals and was eyeing off the dog bones, Jack laughed and I could see he was relieved that I was better.
Things settled back to what we considered normal over the next few weeks. Monsoonal rains came and a few weeks after that we celebrated Christmas. In the morning we opened presents; Jack found me some earrings, a nice watch that worked well once we replaced the battery and a great digital camera that he wrapped in some silverfish eaten Christmas paper that he had found in a house and tied it all together with some string. I had found him a nice shirt and a pair of really nice jeans that were hardly even dirty. I found them in someone’s cupboard with a new pair of work boots. The day was one of relaxation and I spent it by taking photos of everything I could around the house and farm. I shot the animals and the plots for our vegetables, the house and of course Jack. He took photos of me and we set the timer and took shots together. Later that afternoon Jack turned on the computer that was in the house, amazingly it still worked, and we downloaded the pictures and stared to print them off on photo paper that Jack had grabbed ages ago and never used. I felt that it was important that we document our lives here and we did a rare trip to the mall on quad bikes to gather frames and more photo paper. While there I found some old software for photo-shop and took it home and downloaded it and then played on the computer with my photos for the rest of the afternoon.
We got dressed up that night; I put on a green dress and matching heels, I wore my hair up and wore the earrings Jack had given me. Jack wore his new clothes and polished his boots, we ate roast duck and baked potatoes, pumpkin and carrots drizzled with honey by candle light at the table inside and had some apple pie for dessert. We were holding hands across the table with our foreheads barely a centimetre apart and whispering soft things to each other. I wanted Jack to kiss me so badly, he reached up and brushed my cheek with his finger tips and then the dogs started going frantic and the horses whinnied in fright. We were both up in a heartbeat, more dogs started barking and there were sounds of the animals fighting.
Wild dogs had gotten in. I could’ve killed them all.
Damn their timing.
We were able to scare the dogs away with rifle fire aimed high and Jack settled the horses. There had been no damage except to the mood of the night, and I went to bed frustrated and angry.
The day after Christmas dawned hot and grey. The humidity was high and I was feeling very light headed with the heat. Jack felt a little off too and said that we should take the day off and relax. He suggested we should go the river and have a swim to cool off and freshen up. I agreed eagerly and got dressed in a bathing suit which I found when shopping with Jack the first time, it was just a pair of shorts and a bikini top but I have to confess that I looked good in it. I had never looked so healthy and my figure was something out of a Playboy magazine. I thought briefly of the diets I had struggled with and really all I needed was the end of the world to get the figure I always wanted. I placed a thin cotton shirt, which reached to my knees, over my bathing clothes and grabbed a wide brimmed straw hat that I used for the gardening. Jack was wearing some swimmers that I had found for him and had an old T-shirt on as well; he grabbed us towels while I packed some sandwiches and fruit and then we took four of the dogs and walked to the river.
It was a short walk. Our house was only a ten minute walk from the river’s edge. The water was cold as we jumped in but the day was heating up so we hardly complained, still I squealed when I dived in and Jack groaned, “Oh my cluster!” as he walked in up past his waist.
We splashed around for a while and then Jack turned to the dogs, which were sitting obediently on the grassy bank and whistled.
“Come on, kids,” he called and all the dogs, save one, dove into the water and started to play and splash about. Jack threw sticks for them that they swam to and fetched. I went to the one left on the bank and tried to coax him in.
Ghost was my favourite, he was a large wolfhound, all grey and shaggy and brave as a lion. Ever since my encounter with the Turned, Ghost came with me everywhere and he was so loyal, never wandering or running off to chase wallabies or anything. But the big wuss hated water. He stood on the bank and paced back and forth as I called to him, encouraging him to jump in. He tested the water with one paw and pulled it out shaking it vigorously. I went to him and cupped water onto his head with my hands; he looked at me as if I was the greatest betrayer since Judas.
Jack took my photo with Ghost as I ladled water on his head.
“Come on,” Jack called out. “He’ll come in if he sees us having fun.”
Placing my camera down he dove again and I followed. Jack and I were in water that came to my shoulder and Jack’s chest when Jack gathered me in an embrace and held me tightly. I don’t quite know what caused him to hug me just then but I hardly fought him. I returned the embrace and felt him bury his face in my neck. Then there was a great splash and I turned to see Ghost floundering towards us, when he reached us he nudged his head between us and almost ushered me away. Jack let go of me and laughed so hard I thought he might faint. When Ghost had me back on the shore he shook himself off all over me and then sat down staring at Jack.
“It seems I have a defender of my honour.” I called to Jack.
Jack smiled and bowed to Ghost and then flopped backwards into the water.
We went home after lunch and lounged around the house, my swimmers were wet and cool and I had not taken them off. I lounged on a sun chair in the yard alone except for Ghost. I heard Jack approach and call for Ghost then I heard something thump on the ground and my guard was gone bought off it seemed by a bone.
Jack kneeled down beside the chair. “Kate.”
I had my eyes closed and opened them when he spoke. I smiled at him. “Yes.” I replied.
I saw him hesitate and then he took the plunge and kissed me. It was quick and wholly unsatisfying, but it was a start. He stayed above me looking into my eyes, his face inches from mine. Suddenly I was the nervous one. I had wanted that kiss for so long and here he was above me, we were both ready, we both knew that this was what we wanted and yet I felt like I had lead limbs, like the air around me had tripled in weight was holding me in place. Neither of us moved for what felt like ages but was it actually was only a few seconds. I then found my strength and I raised my hand and gently brushed his beard with my fingertips. It seemed to break the spell that was over us and we both leaned forward and shared the kiss that I had dreamed about. How do describe such a thing, how can you describe the moment in your life when everything seems to just work for you and everything you have ever done suddenly comes down to one moment in time.
When it was over I felt warm and smiled and couldn’t stop, Jack laughed nervously and admitted.
“I have wanted to do that for so very long.” He smiled. That smile, if my heart had never melted before it did just then. We kissed again and continued to for some afterward. Later, he carried me inside and we made love on his bed. So is that the end of my story? Does it end with sex? Hardly. That is not the ending; that was just the end of the beginning. Our life was fated to be interesting and sometimes hard but they are stories for another day. For now, time and security would make sure that our farm was the first of many that grew around us. Our children who would have children, would grow up under the watchful of eye of their father and grandfather and they all would know how it started. Of the one man who stood defiantly when all else seemed lost in despair.
My Jack is gone now and I am not long after him but we have lived a life that we could never have dreamed of in the years before the Turning. It’s strange to think that I owe everything wonderful in my life to an event that shattered the world.
