Chapter 8
“THAT WAS INTENSE,” Henry says, shuffling over.
I twist around so I’m sitting upright and hold myself up on the front seat headrests. Trouble reaches over and pats my hand as he drives. Liss still hasn’t formed any words.
Trouble swerves right and I fall against Kean. “Sorry,” I say.
“You don’t have to say sorry, ever. That was… incredible. You just saved all our lives.”
I shrug. “Your turn next time.”
Kean cracks a half smile and looks at me strangely. I look down at my hands, inspecting them for scrapes and cuts but they seem good.
“Liss, can you pass me my bag?” I shove the siphon tube into the backpack and take out an antiseptic wipe because now I’m in an enclosed space, the stench of petrol is making my head fill with butterflies. Everyone is watching me. “What?” I say.
Everyone averts their eyes, except Liss. “Are there any Chupa Chups left?” she asks.
“Um...” I rifle through and pull out the plastic bag. Exactly five left. I pass her the packet so she can have first choice.
“You can have the last watermelon,” she says, holding out the lollypop to me.
I stare at her but keep wiping my hands clean. “Watermelon is your favourite.”
“I know.” She jabs it toward me, waving it in my face. “Take it.”
My eyebrows arch, but I take it anyway. Liss passes around the packet and then starts unwrapping one for Trouble, since he’s driving. She kneels on the seat and leans over, putting it straight into his mouth.
Trouble smiles and nods and gives an enthusiastic thumbs-up. And that makes me smile. Liss slumps back into her seat and stares out the window.
“I’m starting to like him,” Kean says, nodding at Trouble. “What’s his deal?”
“As far as I can tell,” I say, “he’s a Chinese baseball-playing stunt-driving card-shark with a knack for finding apples.”
“Huh.” Kean puts his Chupa Chup back in his mouth and stares at me for a few seconds before looking out the window.
I shove the antiseptic wipe into the old Chupa Chup bag and leave it in the foot well. For some reason I glance over at Henry’s legs. He notices instantly.
“How come they don’t work?” I ask. I can’t believe I just said that. It’s like shock has numbed my politically correct sensor. “Sorry.”
Henry grins. “I don’t care. It was like maybe um... two years ago, yeah Kean?”
Kean nods and looks back out the window.
“It was at Christmas. My family was up at Echuca and there was this swimming hole with one of those big swings that starts at the bank and then you swing out and jump into the water. Well, Kean had already done it and it was my turn. So I swing out, soar through the air and drop straight onto this log. You couldn’t see it, just under the surface. I fell funny, broke my back and they haven’t worked since.”
“That’s awful,” Liss says, leaning her cheek on the seat rest.
Henry shrugs. “Don’t need legs to play computer games.”
“Need working computers and electricity, though,” Kean says.
Henry waves his hand. “A minor blip. Besides, I don’t need them when I’ve got you for entertainment, Kean.”
Kean grins and the brothers clink Chupa Chups together like they’re doing a cheers with glasses.
Liss looks at me, but the scene beyond the windscreen distracts me. Trouble slows down and stops.
Since he doesn’t actually say trouble I assume it’s not life threatening. It’s not like a hundred infected people are circulating outside our windows. It’s just that a fallen truck blocks all five lanes of the Burnley Tunnel. We’ll have to go on foot. Foot and wheelchair wheels.
Beyond the truck it’s perfectly dark. A huge unexplored cave.
“Is there a way round?” Henry says.
Kean chews the last of his lollypop. “Not unless you want to go for a swim.”
“See what I mean?” Henry looks at me. “Pure entertainment.”
“Trouble doesn’t seem worried,” Kean says.
But I’m worried. It’s a few kilometres of pitch back in there, bound to be filled with infected. And we have a kid in a wheelchair. “There’s a raised ledge on the right hand side, maybe wide enough for his wheelchair.”
“Just say wheels,” Henry says. “It sounds cooler.”
“It’s pitch black in there,” I say. “If we get stuck...”
“I’ve got umbrellas and a lighter,” Kean says, taking up the slack where my words trail off. “What weapons have you got?”
I blink. “We don’t really have any.”
He glances across with a furrowed brow but says nothing.
“Although, Trouble has a baseball bat. We’ve got flammable aerosol and a lighter, so we can get blasts of light.”
Kean nods.
“We’re actually doing this... aren’t we?” Henry says, shaking his head.
“Just think of it as one of your games,” Kean says.
We jump out and I shoulder my backpack. Kean whips out the wheelchair and sets it up for Henry. Liss follows me as I walk up to Trouble. He’s already got his bat out.
“Here’s the plan, Trouble. We...” I point to everyone. “Are going in there. Single file.” Liss jumps in behind me and we walk along showing him. He doesn’t do anything, just watches with sharp eyes. “Up along that walkway.” I point and then do a thumbs-up to see if he understood any of it.
Trouble grins and lifts his bat up.
“Yep, good. I think he kind of gets it.”
Trouble keeps scanning for... well... trouble. Liss and I stand at the tunnel entrance, peering in, as Henry and Kean roll up.
“Liss, can I have the deodorant and lighter?”
She rummages about in her pack.
“Who’s going first?” Kean asks, pushing Henry out of the rain.
Trouble leaps up onto the walkway and looks down at us, waiting.
“Guess that’s settled,” Kean says.
“Liss can go second, I’ll follow. Henry and you can bring up the rear?”
“Alright,” Kean says. “So Trouble’s got a bat. You’re in charge of light. Liss, do you want an umbrella?”
I answer for her. “No, she doesn’t.”
“Then an umbrella for Henry, the tyre iron for me and we’re set.”
To get Henry up onto the platform Trouble lifts him out of the chair and pulls him up, then me and Kean lift the wheelchair and roll it onto the concrete. I help Liss up, and me and Kean follow, shuffling around into our positions.
Trouble is looking at me for the sign to go.
I look down our line and then into the pitch dark. “We’ll go straight through. It’s going to dip down and then when it starts rising again we’ll know we’re on the home stretch. If there are infected in there hopefully they won’t be able to reach, us as long as we stay against the wall, ok?”
“Yes, sir.” Henry gives me a sharp salute and smiles. I know that smile: it’s hope. And it’s on me.
I take a deep breath. “Let’s not make any noise. They won’t be able to see us but they’ll hear us coming. And we can’t use the light unless we absolutely need it.” I hold Liss’ hand and nod at Trouble. He keeps the bat in his right arm and takes Liss’ free hand with his left. Even with everything going on, I feel this tiny blip of warmth inside me. Even if something happens to me, I get the sense that Trouble will look after Liss.
“Here we go,” Henry says, like we’re about to hop on a roller coaster at a theme park.
We edge our way into the dark; cool tiles against our back. I can hear dripping in the distance, slow and random. I remember reading somewhere that the tunnel is always leaking but it doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Not like the walls are going to suddenly burst and flood the whole thing. It’s cool down here too, our tiny sounds echo in the cavernous space: short breaths, careful footsteps, clothing dragging along the walls, Henry’s wheel chair.
/> As we edge deeper, the light from the entrance bleeds away until we’re in complete darkness. I can’t see my hands, can’t see my nose. It feels like we’re floating in space. The wall against our backs is the only guide.
Somewhere out there in the dark is a shuffling sound. I squeeze Liss’ hand tight, maybe for her, maybe for me.
I close my eyes because my vision can’t grasp onto anything and I keep imagining things. Henry is leaning forward with his hands out so that Kean doesn’t ram him right into me. Every now and then he bumps against me and it’s actually kind of reassuring. Just a tiny reminder that Liss and I aren’t in this darkness alone.
This is easily the scariest thing I’ve done since the outbreak. Running through a minefield of infected was nothing compared to this. Before, I had some kind of control because I could see everything I needed to avoid: obstacles, infected people. But now all I can do is listen and feel. Every sound seems amplified, and they shoot around like hundreds of tiny bouncy balls. I can’t be sure of which direction they come from. It’s completely overwhelming. I can’t be sure of anything.
The tunnel starts to level out which means we’re almost halfway through. Behind us a groan ripples through the airwaves. I turn my head sharply, following it.
“That’s close,” Kean whispers.
He’s right. I feel like it’s not just a passing comment. It’s a warning to be ready.
I move Liss’ hand to my jacket and she grips onto the hem. I raise the can and lighter, just in case, and keep sliding along the wall.
I can feel them out there, shuffling along the road, sliding against cars, invisible in the dark. And for a moment we’re not so different from the infected, we’re just more bodies shuffling along in the pitch black.
A groan cuts like a speeding bullet toward us. It’s coming from behind. Then footsteps, heavy ones, thudding and slapping with an eager pace. My heart clenches and I point the can toward the sound, angled away from the wall so I don’t singe Kean’s eyebrows if I use it.
“Kean?” I whisper.
Henry grabs my leg and we all stop.
It’s growing louder and faster, narrowing in on us.
“Kean?” I hiss.
Nothing.
My heart beats in my ears like it’s trying to explode out of my body.
“Light!” Kean says.
I flick on the lighter, aim the can and spray for just a few seconds. Fierce orange flame whooshes out, burning a bright path. I see it, the infected shadow up on the ledge. Maybe he followed us in. Maybe it doesn’t matter.
I also see Kean, way closer than expected. I lift my finger off the spray can and hear metal clatter to the ground. He swears. I think I just burnt his hand.
“I just dropped the tyre iron. I need light!”
I aim the spray away, out into the tunnel and this time I see two things I don’t like. First the infected person on the ledge with us is close, real close, and Kean’s just standing with raised fists. And second, as the flame spits out into the tunnel it reflects off all the shiny sets of eyes. Hungry faces look up at us from between shadowy cars and suddenly there’s noise everywhere. Groaning and moving sounds.
Something dark flashes past me, beneath the flame.
Trouble.
He darts to the back of the line and swings the bat. The infected head cracks against the wall and its body falls away.
“Kill the light!” Kean yells.
I lower the lighter and the darkness closes over us like water. “Go Liss, move!”
She’s making whimpering sounds but starts moving.
Arms swipe over the edge of the ledge, bony fingers slipping over our boots, bloody hands searching for a grip.
“Faster,” I say, pushing her along. “Henry?”
“Here.” His wheel is clattering against the wall.
“Kean?”
“Yep,” comes his reply.
“Trouble?” I call.
No reply.
“Trouble!” Kean calls back.
I step on a hand and the bones snap beneath me. Liss lets out a little scream and reels away from something. I push her onwards. The tunnel is beginning to angle upward.
“Are they up on the ledge?” I call back.
“Just that one,” Kean replies.
“One’s coming!” Liss screeches and tries to back into me. I shoot the flame out in front and a decaying face flashes up, just a meter away. I train the flame on its head and suddenly the infected woman’s long hair catches. She grabs wildly at Liss so I drop everything and dive for her, grabbing the front of her dress. The flame on her head lights up a small space around us as I twist and go down.
Liss is screaming like she doesn’t need air. My back hits the concrete ledge hard and I use the momentum to roll the woman off me and into the crowd of clawing hands.
For a moment I’ve lost the wall, and completely lost my bearings. Hands grab me from all sides and can’t tell which are friendly and which are not. I scrabble to my feet.
“Florence!”
I feel Liss’ small hand on my arm and she pulls me to the wall. I press my back against the wet tiles and run sideways. The infected lady’s flame head bobs away into the crowd and disappears.
Screeching, yelling and yelping fills the air. Henry and Kean are shouting. The infected know we’re here so there is no point in being silent anymore.
I just hope like hell there are no more infected up on this ledge because I dropped the can and lighter and now I’ve only got my fists.
My boots are being battered and I’m just crunching over flesh and bones. It’s so gross.
And suddenly we pass around a bend and I see the exit. I swear it takes my breath away, hovering like a sun breaking into the night. Grey light filters down to us and I glance back and catch Liss’ frightened expression. There’s a huge pile up of cars here, acting as a barrier to keep the infected in.
When I pass it I begin to run straight instead of flat against the wall. Liss and I burst out into the daylight. It’s still raining, but it’s just a spray of mist now. There are no infected on the other side of the car barrier... yet. I look over Liss, and my hands. All seems clean. Liss’ backpack is hanging open and I zip it up.
Henry and Kean burst out and stop when they see us. Kean’s out of breath and Henry’s clutching the blood soaked umbrella. I look around them, back into the tunnel. “Where’s Trouble?”
Kean looks back. Everyone does.
Seconds tick by and nothing.
Kean swears and calls his name.
Still nothing.
This cannot be happening. See, this is why I don’t hang around with other people. But this is Trouble. It doesn’t feel right to leave him. And he’s my backup for Liss. I can’t do it, can’t walk away. I know he wouldn’t leave us.
“Dammit,” I say, and I grab the umbrella off Henry.
“What are you going to do?” Liss grips my arm.
“I’m going back for him.”
She gives me this sad look.
“It’s Trouble. I have to.”
“I know,” she says.
That surprises me. But I shake it off. “Crap. I dropped the aerosol back there.”
Liss takes off her backpack. “I picked it up when you were fighting that lady.” She pulls it out of her bag and I just about die from admiration.
“Oh, Liss. Good job. Really good job.” I look back at the tunnel. “I don’t suppose you picked up the lighter too?”
Liss bites her lip and shakes her head. Great, all I can do right now is deodorise the enemy.
“I’ve got one.” Kean holds it up. “I’m coming with you.”
“But Liss and Henry...” I say.
“Can wait here.”
“No. Not here.” I shake my head looking around. I see a bright red door. “In here.” I pull it open and it’s some kind of fire equipment room. Small and free of infected. “Quick.”
I close the door on Liss and Henry, and chuck Kean the aerosol.
“Sorry for burning you,” I say, and dart back into the darkness.
I grip the umbrella and slide my other hand against the tiles.
“What’s the plan?” Kean whispers behind me. When it gets really dark Kean puts his hand on my shoulder. I can feel the lighter in his grip.
“Find him and go from there.” I wait a few seconds before calling out, “Trouble?” The infected scrabble back to ledge but we’re still out of reach. They can only claw at our feet.
We step carefully and keep yelling. A few minutes later I hear something that sounds like hah, hah, hah. It repeats over and over like a beacon.
“Trouble?”
He stops making the funny noise and calls back. “Trouble!”
“Where is he?” Kean says. “Where’s his voice coming from?”
“Oh my God.” I grip onto Kean’s arm and we stop. “I think he’s out in the tunnel.” I look at Kean but I see nothing, just blank darkness where his green eyes and freckled skin and crazy hair should be. “Light?”
Kean flicks on the lighter and aims the spray into the tunnel. It blazes out over the scene. At our feet, infected people swarm like we’re the band and they’re stuck in the mosh pit. Hordes of them. My heart stops when I see Trouble. He’s standing on the roof of a yellow car, far from the ledge. Completely surrounded by infected. It takes a moment for him to register the light, and he looks over. This is bad. I see it in his face.
Kean cuts the light. We stand, infected jostling and bumping at our feet.
“What now?” he asks.
I’m still clutching Kean’s arm. “You want to distract them? I’ve got an idea.”
“Yeah, how?”
“Use the light, make noise. I’ll sneak this way.”
All Trouble needs is some light and he can get back up here. That’s what I want to give him.
I squeeze Kean’s forearm. “Give me twenty seconds then go crazy, try and draw them deeper into the tunnel.”
“Got it. Go.”
I scramble over the carpet of broken arms, dragging myself along the wall as quick as I can. Then I turn stealth and creep along quietly. I count out loud in my head and pause, silently hiding. Right on time Kean lights up the air and starts yelling and jumping. The infected turn and converge on his display, totally forgetting about me.
Kean is making just enough light for me to see what I need and he’s drawing away the infected perfectly. I fill my lungs with air and slip down onto the road. God this is insane.
I duck behind a car and creep round the other side. The driver’s door is open and I reach in.
An infected man brushes past and I tense, but he’s completely dazzled by the display and doesn’t even notice me. I reach my hands over the wheel and flick all the levers. Nothing happens. I grope around and suddenly the entire tunnel goes pitch black again.
“I’m out of light,” Kean yells. Then he starts singing something at the top of his voice. I hear the sound but not the words.
I keep searching with my hands, blindly waving them about, pressing buttons and flicking dials, testing everything they touch. And then my hand hits something that clinks. I touch it with my fingertips: keys.
Please, please, please, please. I push them forward in the ignition and something whirs alive in the car. As soon as I hear it, I stop pushing. I don’t want to start it. The clock lights up on the dashboard, dazzling green and I see what I need: a click dial on the dashboard. I flick it to full beam and light sears out into the dark, glowing over everything. The infected, Kean, Trouble. Everything.
Kean and Trouble freeze.
The infected spin and rush toward the light, toward me, moving like a tsunami. I look at Trouble one last time and our eyes connect. He holds his bat high and as the infected move he slides down out of my view.
And now I run. Even though the light is pointing away from me I can see just enough. I’m in the middle of the road, swerving between cars and infected people, poking out with the umbrella. One infected gets the umbrella to its stomach and to my surprise it goes straight through its gut and lodges in the cavity. I shove it away and launch myself back up to the ledge, slamming my cheek against the wall.
“Kean!” I scream. “I’m up.” But then I realise he can probably see me.
For a moment there’s nothing but aggravated moans. I peer down, ignoring the hands groping at my ankles. I can see Kean but not Trouble.
“I’m here,” Kean calls. “I’m coming. Trouble’s up too.”
I put my hand to my chest and let out my breath. They say it’s good luck to hold your breath all the way through a tunnel. I’m pretty sure I’ve been holding my breath since we stepped into the darkness, so I’m going to go ahead and believe it.
Something claws at me and I kick out with my foot, crunching it in the head.
Kean reaches me, and steps past. He locks his fingers in mine and looks back. Trouble switches the bat to his other hand and reaches for me. We clasp on and move, hand in hand like one of those paper cut out things they make you do in primary school art class, away from the light.
With our backs pressed hard up against the wall, we sidestep all the way out into the grey light. Kean goes right to the edge for a safety check while I collect Liss and Henry. When I open the door they peer out like little animals. Liss sees me and tackles me with a hug. I hold the door open so Henry can roll himself out. Liss leaves me and grabs Trouble’s hand.
“Alright you two. For the next five minutes you’re lookouts.” I point to the end of the walkway. “Over there. Any movement drop and don’t make a sound.”
Liss and Henry head over to the spot and I pick up Trouble’s arm, inspecting it for bites, scratches or marks. Anything that might indicate he’s infected. I don’t know what happened to him down on the road and I’m not taking any chances. Although I’m not quite sure what I’ll do if I find something. “Help me,” I say to Kean. “Make sure he’s got no bites or scratches.”
Kean begins inspecting Trouble’s other arm. Trouble lets us, but he glances between me and Kean, looking confused. I smile and nod at him, hoping it’s a universal sign for it’s ok.
I push his t-shirt sleeve up higher and I see he’s got a tattoo on his arm. Nothing fancy, it’s just a date: sometime not long before the outbreak. Trouble glances at it and his eyes linger on the ink. I feel his arm muscles tense beneath my hands. And then he leans forward and removes his shirt so we can check everywhere else.
“Looks fine,” Kean says.
“You have to check the bottom half.”
Trouble looks between us, and points to his legs. I nod and turn away, letting Kean deal with the bare legs.
A minute later Kean calls out, “Ok, he’s good.”
Thank god for that.
“What about you?” Kean says.
“What about me?”
“You were down on the road too.”
True. I pull off my jacket and Kean looks at my arms. He looks up finally.
“Are you serious?”
He just stares back.
“Liss, come here.”
Liss and Trouble swap places. Kean is still looking at my arm; he picks it up in his warm fingers and touches the side of my hand. “What’s that?”
“A scar.”
“What from?” he asks, running a finger over it. Suddenly he pulls back like he’s just seen a do not touch sign.
“My rollerblading phase. Ok, now turn around,” I say. “Liss can do the rest.”
Kean obliges and wanders over to Henry and Trouble. Liss checks over my skin for bites, even though I know I wasn’t bitten.
“All good,” Liss says.
I put everything back on and slide into my leather jacket.
“Flo?”
“Yeah?”
“Can they come with us?”
I look over at the boys. Trouble is leaning on his baseball bat, watching Kean spin Henry in circles on the end of the ledge. “If they want to, I guess.”
I stand with
Liss and Henry, watching Trouble and Kean scope out cars. The sky is clearing; the sombre grey giving way to patches of blue. It seems the further we travel the more difficult it becomes. There are more infected people than I’d ever bargained for and I don’t know how much more I can take. Every time someone almost dies it’s like cutting a limb off. I can feel myself growing attached to the others; mostly Trouble, but there’s something endearing about the way Kean and Henry keep on going.
I can’t look back at the tunnel. I just have the image of Trouble, standing on the car and completely surrounded, stuck in my head. I wonder what would have happened if we’d left him? Would the old me have left him? I don’t like to think of the answer.
A car starts and we all look up. Our new ride is an old purple hatchback.
After Kean sorts out the wheelchair business he hops in the front passenger seat. Liss slides in next to Henry and I take the window seat.
Trouble steers the car into a clear lane and we roll away. Liss and Henry are having some kind of conversation about a kids TV show and the irrepressible smile is back on Trouble’s face.
Everyone is on a high, but I just feel quiet. There are big thick concrete walls on either side of the freeway. I stare out the window, hugging my backpack. Suddenly the sun breaks out of the clouds and I see the ghost of my reflection in the window.
Kean is watching me through the wing mirror. I look over but he doesn’t flinch away. He just watches me as the world slides by around us.