Arcadium (5 page)

As if she can
hear my thoughts Liss pats me on the thigh like some kind of thank
you. I look down and she just stares back.

Another two
hours pass and I think I might have either fallen asleep, fainted,
or zoned out completely because I can’t hear anything anymore and
can’t pinpoint exactly when it went quiet. And it’s dead quiet. I
look at Liss and raise my eyebrows. “You hear anything?” I
whisper.

She shakes her
head.

It’s going to
take a whole truck load of courage to creep out of this bin because
the infected people could be anywhere out there. Plus Liss has to
go first really, and that’s my worst nightmare. I don’t even know
if I’ll be able to make her budge. It takes a special kind of
courage to climb out into the unknown.

There’s a loud
tapping on the bin, like someone’s knocking on a front door. We
both go tense.

“Trouble?” the
voice comes from just outside.

Me and Liss
look at each other.

The knock comes
again, four raps.

“Hello?” I
say.

The lid flips
open and the Chinese man sticks his face into the opening. He
smiles like he’s just won the lottery and beckons for us to come
out.

“Trouble,” he
says and frowns, shaking his head. I’m going to assume that means
no
trouble.

“Go Liss, get
out quick.” She wiggles out and I crawl behind her. It’s almost
dark now. Ugh, there are patches of infected blood everywhere but
the street is clear. I grab Liss’ hand and look at the man.

He leans down
and taps the wheely bin with his finger. “Ah… ha, ha, ha,” he says
and then taps his temple, nodding.

I have to keep
glancing around, I’m so paranoid but he’s as relaxed as anything.
“Um…” I nod back. “Thanks.”

He tips his
head and furrows his brow.

“English?” I
say.

The man just
stares back.

“Chinese?” I
point to him. “China?”

He nods and
smiles, tapping his palm against his chest. He looks at Liss and
does a double thumbs-up. She looks up at me, not sure what to make
of him.

“Well, we’d
better be going.” I wave goodbye so he’ll get the message and he
copies, nodding too.

I tug on Liss’
hand and we run across the road. I see a house with a small narrow
open window down its side. It’s totally a bathroom and bathrooms
nearly always have locks.

I drag Liss
through the garden, through the garden gate and hoist her up so she
can look through.

“Lock?” I
ask.

“Yep.”

“Going up.” I
push her and she scrabbles in. I hear a few thumps as she climbs
down something and I step up on the water tap to see in. She’s by
the door, checking the handle.

I boost myself
up, throw my backpack through first and then shimmy in. It’s a
pretty tight fit but not as bad as being crowded into a wheely bin
for an afternoon. We just need to sit in a safe space for a while
and process what just happened. Process and recover and move
on.

I have to do a
kind of half handstand on the sink counter and walk myself in. I
twist and collapse through. As soon as I’m on my feet I head
straight for the door to double check it’s locked. I press my ear
against the wood and listen. It’s quiet.

“Are you
alright?” I kneel down to Liss and check her over.

“Yeah,
you?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a spot
of blood on her back so I take out the antiseptic wipes. Liss looks
alarmed.

“Just to be
safe,” I say, wiping away the blood. Thankfully her skin does the
job of protecting her from infection, it’s only if it goes in your
eye or mouth or a cut or something that the trouble begins. I tuck
the soiled wipe beneath the sink in the back corner of the
cupboard.

Outside night
is falling and I’m not sure if I’m hot or cold. I close the window
and get out my water bottle.

“Who’s that
man?” Liss asks. Her hands are still trembling at her sides.

“The trouble
man?”

“Yeah,
Trouble.”

“I don’t know
but he came along at just the right time.” I take a few sips of
water and Liss copies.

“I think he’s
nice,” she says.

“Hey.” I point
my finger at her nose. “Stranger danger still applies in the
apocalypse.”

She nods. “I
know. He just seems nice, that’s all.”

“Lots of people
seem nice, but they’re not.”

A rumble of
thunder sounds somewhere in the distance and Liss grabs my arm.

I put away my
water, climb into the bath and beckon for her. She lies on top of
me and I wrap my arms around her. We both stare up at the ceiling.
After a while I reach over for a towel and stuff it behind my head
as a pillow.

The lightening
comes through our small window and flashes over our scene like a
flickering bulb in a horror movie. I hug Liss tighter and soon it
begins to rain. It sounds like a huge crowd applauding and I
imagine it’s just for us. I imagine it’s all the people who got
caught up in this whole outbreak and had to leave, whether they
died naturally or became one of those things. I imagine they’re all
looking down on the world, rooting for the survivors and I just
hope that mum and dad aren’t up there already. But then again… I
may never find out. And I drift off to sleep feeling, just for a
moment, not so alone.

Chapter 4

I wake with a
crick in my neck, a cold back and Liss as my blanket. I poke her
and she grumbles, and then, as if remembering she’s in the middle
of an apocalypse, her head shoots up.

“Calm down,
it’s just me.”

Liss twists
around so she can see my face. “Do we have to go out there today?”
It’s her whiney voice but I can’t blame her after yesterday.

“Yes.”

“But they’re
out there.”

“They always
are. But haven’t I protected you so far?”

She looks away.
“Yes.”

“And is there
any reason I wouldn’t keep doing that?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll
keep on.” I rub my eyes. “It won’t always be like this, Liss.
Should we get some breakfast?”

Liss climbs out
of the bathtub and sits on the sink counter, swinging her legs
around. She’s watching me like it might be the last time she ever
sees me again. My limbs are all heavy… I think that might be an
adrenaline thing, or a being shoved into a cramped space thing or
maybe a combination of both.

I swear I had
more than my years allowance of adrenaline in one shot yesterday —
which, I might add, was super helpful seeing as I was stuck in a
bin and couldn’t run anywhere. Thanks a lot, body.

“I might have a
look around this house, see if there’s something to eat.” I press
my palm to my forehead. “I’ll go out, you lock the door behind me
and listen. When I give you the ok you can open it again.”

Liss nods and
stands behind the door. We’ve done this a few times and I know it’s
pretty risky going in blind but I didn’t hear any movement last
night and that’s usually a good sign its empty.

“Ready?”

Liss nods and
unlocks the door. She pauses, both hands clasping the handle.

I nod and try
to look calm, and Liss pulls the door open a crack so I can peer
through. I give her a thumbs-up and she pulls it open just enough
so I can slip out.

The door closes
behind me and I’m in a dim hallway, alone. There’s a painting on
the wall of some fruit, and I can’t tell if it’s leering at me or
just teasing me. I haven’t had fruit in that long.

To my right is
the front entrance, all closed up, and next to that is an open door
with a bedroom behind it. The double bed is still made perfectly,
not a crease on it. The décor is a weird brown and pink floral and
it reminds me of old people. On the bedside tables, all the photo
frames are face down.

I move on
slowly, passing an archway that opens up to the lounge room. This
screams old people too: brown shag carpet, reclining chairs and one
of those old TV’s with the huge backs on them.

The kitchen is
next; it’s a big open space with green-flecked benches around the
walls and a wooden table and chairs in the very middle. All the
other doors are closed so I pop open a cupboard hoping for food but
it’s all plates and cups. It’s weird how everyone organises their
kitchens so differently.

I pull open a
load of cupboards, exposing pots and pans and crystal wear, before
realising I’m not alone. There’s a low guttural growling, like a
defensive animal.

I look up
slowly, my hand still on the cupboard door.

It’s looking at
me, standing side on in an open archway that runs from the kitchen
to the joined lounge… the only place I didn’t check.

Cue my
oh
crap
response. When I step into a situation and it goes way way
bad, I find the first few seconds are given over to the oh crap
response… like I literally say the words in my head, but it’s more
than that. While I’m standing frozen for those few seconds my brain
goes wild noticing all these random details just before my body has
a chance to kick into action. It’s like a computer downloading
information at super speed.

The infected
man’s head is twisted towards me, eyes glaring and lips snarling.
My old people guess is confirmed. He’s wearing a cardigan and brown
pants, his face has deep wrinkles and what’s left of his hair is a
puff of white. He actually kind of looks like a mad scientist the
way his hair sticks out at odd angles.

The infected
man and I seem to jump into action at the same time. I back away,
pulling out one the chairs, just as he charges. And man does he
come flying, he must hate that I’m in his house. I lift the chair
and use it to kind of joust him. We lock together for a moment and
he swipes wildly at me. I lean away out of his reach and put all my
effort into shoving him back. He stumbles and I throw the chair
after him but he gets up so quick.

I reach into
the cupboards firing some dinner plates at his head but every
single one misses and smashes against the wall with a loud crash.
Liss must be freaking out.

I dive under
the table as he hurtles toward me, and it’s like being in a cell
with wooden bars. Mad scientist man reaches in, saliva dripping
from his mouth, and I kick out. I crush his hand against his chest
and I hear some bones snap but it’s not enough. I need to go for
the head and I need to go for the kill. This is one I can’t run
away from.

There’s
something surreal about fighting an old infected man in his
kitchen. It’s like a video game and that’s the only way I can make
sense of it. Like I’m the main character and he’s just another
pixel-created enemy in my way.

He actually
catches my boot and pulls me out a bit, trying to manoeuvre into a
biting position. My hand flies back, pushing away the other two
chairs and I see it. The perfect weapon is sitting in the cupboard
on the bottom shelf: a giant frying pan.

I slam my hand
back, find the handle and fling it up as the man’s head comes down
to chew on my leg. It makes an almighty clank and a spray of blood
showers across the table. I drop the frying pan and reach for
another one, crawling out the other side of the table. This is the
part I hate… but it’s just like a video game… just a game… no
consequences… no laws… no right or wrong.

I run around
the table and slam the new frying pan into the man’s head. He’s
already reeling from the first hit and this one bends him back over
the sink. Now I really go for it, hammering the frying pan against
his skull. It makes weird squelching sounds and his hands are
having some kind of spasm attacks. On the third whack his head
caves in but I keep going until he stops moving. His infected blood
is draining into the sink, trickling away.

When I stop
there’s not much head left, it’s just flesh and bone and bits of
brain. I drop the pan in the sink over his mashed head and check my
hands. There’s a light spray of blood and I grab a tea towel.

I’m still
catching my breath when all my senses return. Liss is screaming,
banging up against the bathroom door, but I just stand for a minute
in the still kitchen, running a list of expletives through my head
as I clean my shaky hands.

I flick the
rest of the cupboards open, grab a plastic shopping bag and pull
out some tins. I do it so fast I’m not even looking at the labels
and when it’s half full I go and unlock the front door. “Liss, open
up,” I call.

The screaming
stops and the door pops open a crack. Her wide grey eyes are
staring out at me. “You’re not dead?”

I put my hand
on my hip and roll my eyes. “Have you no faith in me, little
sis?”

She blinks.

“Backpacks?
Lets go.”

She throws me
my bag and we escape into the front yard. I was going to get her to
check the bathroom cupboards for stuff we might need but I decide
that the quicker we get out, the quicker I leave it all behind.

“Hang on,” I
say. The front fence is a decent height so I kneel on the damp
grass. “Can you get the antiseptic wipes out? And the can
opener.”

I feel Liss
unzip my backpack and rummage around. She hands me a wipe and I run
it all over my hands, in every crevice and sneaky space. I run it
under my nails too. Most of the blood is gone already; it’s just a
precaution. The last thing I need is to wipe my mouth and infect
myself with left over blood. “You want to open us some tins?” I try
to hide my shaking hands from Liss.

“What do you
want?” she asks.

“Whatever.
Surprise me.” I check over my arms and chest. “How’s my face?”

Liss inspects
it. “Still needs some work.”

“Oh, ha, ha.
Any blood?”

“No.” She
stares at me. “What happened?”

I think of
lying but there’s no point. “The owner happened. He was in the
kitchen.”

“But you
won?”