by wa5 » Fri Aug 19, 2016 11:53 pm
Friday the 13th. of course.
I came suddenly awake, as the fire grew in the Eastern sky. Scanning the area with the help of the rising light, I saw nobody. A howl came from across the water, perhaps its older echo had woken me?
I rechecked the position of the nights light. A six story apartment building just east of the train station, on Scott street, Part of the main street of Newcastle, less then 250 metres from the coast.
A white sheet fluttered from the small balcony, The days version of the nights light.
I had the address, Time to roll, it was going to be a long day.
As I drove back to my beach house, A plan started to coalesce.
It hinged on the Bushmaster, the armoured personnel carrier at the abandoned army roadblock.
First a good breakfast, Sausages from my precious freezer, eggs from the fridge, better hurry up and use all of those. Wash it down with orange juice. Probably wouldn't get another chance for a decent meal today. off to have a look at the APC.
One of two important tasks before I do. Sitting, rusty, near the loaders at Owens, were a set of forks. Found some rope in the back of one of the destroyed cruisers. Now, get moving.
Tear down the ramp, park near the forks, Tie one of them to the tow bar, and get moving, The group, growing again, I noticed, hadn't even made it a quarter of the way to me, before I was back in the drivers seat, rolling.
Tow the heavy tine up the ramp, and drop it a few hundred metres onto the sand.
I needed the other one, to complete the transformation of my loader to super heavy duty forklift. Let the group calm before returning for it.
North, to my old camp, I required some items from my shed, I hoped the crowds had thinned.
Changing vehicles at the camp, If I was heading back to my shed, I may as well return the Chrysler panels.
The parts storage cruiser started without any trouble, Transferring my guns and go bag to the new vehicle, was enough to work up a sweat, it was already well past thirty degrees and getting hotter. The little engle fridge gave up a cool bottle of water. Enjoying the water whilst cruising through the blackened bush, it almost felt like a normal day, Air conditioning whispering chilled air from the vents. Of course a creature had to charge the car. ruining the illusion.
I didn't even slow. The bull bar took the impact in its stride. the monster was a tall one, Naked, filthy, sunburn on top of sunburn, A woman. I think she might have worked at the local shop. On impact, her top half bent over the bull bar, She face planted onto the bonnet. and began to slide down the front of the vehicle. Slowly at first, She had been knocked senseless. By the time she came too, she had slipped half off the bonnet, she reached for the bull bar, to steady herself and begin the climb towards her lunch, sitting just behind the pesky glass in front of her.
The squawk that escaped her sounded just like a startled cockatoo. As she slid from the bonnet, her legs dragged ever closer to the left front wheel. The same moment her fingers gripped the black steel bar, the tyre gripped her foot.
In slow motion I saw her eyes change from vicious slits to wide surprised "Os". The Squawk was cut off as two tonnes of Toyotas' finest bounced over her. first the front wheel, than the back. I was in a rush, if the car hadn't killed her, I'd be back this way in about half an hour, I'd finish her then.
My property looked clear as i approached. No time to spare, straight to the shed. pull up, select reverse and start backing in.
Three of them shot out of the shed. and started bashing on the glass, Roll quickly forward, window down a little and pistol in the face of the first one, two shots in rapid succession. it dropped. As did its brother. The third one held back, A girl, her belly bloated, pregnant, straight black hair. The girl from the Volvo, Frannie was her name. I slammed the cruiser into reverse. Crunch, she bolted as I rolled towards her.
I didn't want to kill her, she was a pregnant woman, for God sake. I gave the cruiser all it had, catching her and knocking her asunder. Window all the way down and three bullet to the head.
Out of the car and double tap. Empty the rest of the clip into her belly.
She wasn't a pregnant Woman, she was a monster. In her belly was another monster. She was also holding me up from saving a human.
Into the shed. pull the doors shut, lock them. The place stunk like a dark back ally behind a pub. What was it about pissing on my property that they enjoyed so much?
No time to re attach the panels, drop enough of the barbed wire to get to the Chrysler, carefully place the panels where they wont get hurt.
On to my real goal. My chainsaw, a big Stihl 64cc farmboss, Heavy and expensive, but powerful and reliable. I filled it with the two stroke fuel I kept just for it. Setting it up in my vice, I filed its chain razor sharp. Both tasks would have been much easier with an intact work bench.
Along with a length of rope, headlight and my largest crowbar, they all went into the car.
Reset my barbed wire barrier, Time to go. Doors unlocked and nudge them open with the cruiser. Three more waiting outside. snapping and bashing at the glass, If I had time, I'd have dispatched them and secured the shed. Maybe later, if there was a later.
The tall shop lady was trying to crawl off the road with broken limbs as I neared, I aimed the wheels at her head and rolled slowly over her. No time to check, I kept rolling.
Swap cars and gear. at the lookout. The bedroom troopie had a full tank. Pack water and food into the bug out pack. Get moving, I was nowhere near my goal yet.
back to Owens, grab the other tine. park it beside the other one. and on to the beach house to retrieve the loader. Almost nine, almost 40 degrees outside the cool 4x4.
Glad the loader had A/C
Check the tank, almost full, fit the tines, converting the loader into a giant forklift, capable of lifting any car and pushing any truck out of the way.
My plan was a little complex, I needed to get into Newcastle in a secure vehicle, just as importantly, I needed to find a secure way into the building. I didn't think the loader was ideal for that part of the plan. However, the big Volvo would be going into town first. With its forklift conversion, it would easily clear a path for the APC, if I could make it go. if not, find a plan B I guess.
Back through Owens, past the crowd, dispatching five of them as I rolled by. To the abandoned roadblock. kill the loader, observe. nothing moving nearby.
Pistol in one hand, Shotgun in the other, I made may way to the Bushmaster. The back door hanging ajar, carefully I entered, Empty. Lock the door behind me and check the controls. The area around the blockade gave the appearance of everything just falling apart. Dead soldiers, guns on the ground, trucks with boxes in the back, full of goodness knows what.. and an APC with keys in the ignition.
The army was fairly well funded, they didn't skimp on servicing their vehicles. The heavy duty batteries in the Bushmaster were up to the task, she fired up almost immediately, and settled to a friendly grumbling idle. both fuel gauges showing full, thankyou Army.
Shut her down and close the door behind me. she would be ideal for what I had planned, a pity I couldn't drive her into town straight away, but I had a feeling the roads would have some blockages.
I heard running foot steps from the West, Guns up, ready to fire, and make a bee line for the loader. I needn't have panicked. The monsters were on the other side of a ten foot high fence, they were inside the RAAF grounds. The nearest gate was almost a mile away, and not line of site, So I was safe from these guys.
Check around, No threats evident. I'd really like one of the soldiers guns. Saw one laying on the grass nearby, Felt a bit grotty after being on the ground for almost a fortnight, but I'd read they could sit in a barrel of mud for longer and still work ok.
Search around for some extra ammo, couple more guns on the ground and still hanging from dead soldiers, try one of the trucks. A wooden box, lid up, with loaded magazines in grease paper. grab ten, not sure I could carry more, and a handy camo backpack. throw in the mags find another box marked MRE on the way out of the truck ... A few of those wouldn't hurt. fill another back pack with them and throw both in the bushmaster. Fill another backpack with mags for the loader and get moving. South.
Stop at the roundabout and study the road ahead, two or three traffic snarls in the distance, lets have a look at this whiz bang plastic gun before I go any further. Find the safety, flick to off, find the mode selector (a wasted youth watching Rambo movies just paid off) symbols made sense, semi auto and full auto.
Open the door, get blasted by the heat. Single shot into an Ambulance across the road. keep pulling the trigger more shots. seems simple enough. flick the lever to full auto. BZZZZZZZT What the hell was that? Glass falling to the ground, the Ambulance tilting on rapidly deflating tyres. all in less than five seconds, try again, nothing, out of ammo, Think we'll give full auto a miss.
Flick on the safety, spend five minutes figuring out how to change the Mag and make the gun ready to fire. practice that a few more times. got it down to less than twenty seconds.
Onward. less than 100 metres south of the McDonalds roundabout came the first blockage. it would have taken tow truck operators hours to unstick them all.
I didnt care about damage, peoples property, law suits, the environment. The only thing that concerned me was making a bushmaster sized hole. The tines went through the windscreen of the Subaru like a knife through butter. The now broken Subie was unceremoniously dumped into the drain at the side of the road, Three more cars met the same fate. Then I lowered the bucked to the ground and pushed the remainder aside. The Bushmaster was a big machine, I wanted plenty of space.
Three more times I had to clear the road before I reached "the old road", that snaked around Fullerton Cove. I declined to use that route when I last passed this way, but any angry residents would not present a problem for the bit angry Tonka Toy.
Two cars were stalled on that road, I could have squeezed past, but I took the time to nudge them into the long grass.
Almost to Fern Bay I rejoined the main road. almost instantly the traffic blockages increased. Six times, the road was impassable before I hit Stockton Bridge.
Some dammed fool had parked trucks across the Northern entries to the crossing, Cars sat idle to the top of the structure, presumably down the other side as well. All four lanes were jammed with cars heading North, out of the city.
The Loader had some trouble shifting the heavy trucks, lucky there were smaller machines, not Semis, they might have beaten me.
In the end, I had to hook the tow chain onto the front of one of them and jerk it out of the way. with so many hiding places amongst the cars, I flew down the ladder and back up when hooking and un hooking the chain.
The bridge was tedious. spear the tines through the screen, back, half turn, hang car over the rail, drop the bucket and watch the car fall to oblivion. Yelling "Bombs away", was amusing for about two cars, then it just felt silly.
I was on auto pilot, but some things stayed with me. The Bright red Ferrari, a sculpture of power and noise, now an artificial Italian Reef. The Holden Commodore, with the caravan behind, that rotten thing put up a fight, took me five minutes to get it over the side, The car hanging in the breeze, the caravan refusing to follow. It would have been easier to get out and un hook them, but the audience I had attracted made that seem like a bad idea.
The R/T Charger, it was either an E38 with the Bathurst option or a great copy. Magenta paintwork sparkling in the sun. Chryslers Triple carburettored six pack screamer one of the few cars tough enough to be able to pull off a coat of pink paint. It didn't go over the side. I couldn't bring myself to do that. Ferraris were a dime a dozen. but Aussie muscle cars were something special. carefully I backed down the bridge with the Charger balancing on the tines. I placed her gently to the side of the road, hoping to return and give her the care she needed.
Back to the cookie cutter, spear, turn release, repeat.
It was midday by the time my wheels touched Kooragang Island. The road was blocked here too, but the road exiting under the bridge wasn't. I cleared enough room for the bushmaster to be able to back and turn through 180 degrees and followed the roads in the industrial area, half way across the island, no blocks until I rejoined the main road. that just saved two hours of mundane drudgery.
Traffic was bumper to bumper to the bridge that led off the island, to the area where I last saw Michael.
Fortunately the grass shoulder was mostly clear, I was on the bridge in less than ten minutes. More cars over the side, the environmental protection agency would have kittens if they saw what I was dumping in the water.
The blockade went another 300 metres to the intersection with the industrial highway.
Then it cleared.
East on the highway toward Newcastle. Through the outskirts of Mayfield, Tighes hill, Wickham, only a few blockages to slow me down, all easily dealt with.
Avoid the main street, turn onto Wharf road, North of the rail line that separated the city from the harbour. Hunter and Scott streets (same street, the name just changed for the last kilometre) was on the South side of the rail lines.
Wharf road, was chaos. bumper to bumper traffic, on the road, the gutter, jammed against the buildings, Blind panic and shear bat **** crazy had been here.
Back onto Hannel street (The southern end of the industrial highway, same road, different name) . and over the rail crossing.
Hmm, I wonder?
It appeared clear as far as I could see.
Bumping up the train line, no traffic snarls, no Trains, but a few creatures.
The Newcastle railway station was a stones throw from the apartment block I was seeking, but I had to exit before the station, It was the end of the line, end the track was surrounded on three sides by station platform, which rose about three feet above the rails, I wasn't sure the bush master could climb that well, it was a big heavy truck and I didn't want to get caught so close to the prize.
I simply reversed about fifty metres and demolished the brick fence that separated the lines from Wharf road.
I had to clear three more traffic snarls and I was in front of the building. As it seemed, were half the monsters of Newcastle.
At least a thousand, I recalled a pond in the foreshore park a short distance from where I sat, idling and worried.
I shut down the loader and heard her screaming to me. almost hoarse.
I chanced it and opened the door for a second, "I'll be back in an hour to get you, go inside and be quiet"
It was her who was drawing them, and making my job harder.
"don't go she rasped", "I'll be about an hour" I yelled "keep quiet".
She was scared and desperate, My words had little effect. it must have broken her heart when I turned and left. There was simply no safe way from the loader to the building, even with the bushmaster, I wasn't sure I could do it.
Before I left, I evened the odds a little. The creatures were very obliging by crowding around my machine, they obviously hadn't been in touch with their Northern neighbours, or they would have skedaddled.
The street ran red with their blood, I made pass after pass, I quit counting at twenty runs.
The got a little shy towards the last few passes. I must have killed or disabled over half their number.
I headed for the APC. it took an hour to reach it. more MREs and a lot more Ammo into the back of the truck. I also found a chest full of water canteens, Thinking back to her croaky voice, they might be handy too.
The APC was just like a big car. Slip in into "D", point and shoot. it took me a while to find the Air Conditioning controls, it wasnt icy cold, but it helped keep the cab comfortable.
I stopped at Fern Bay and took a drink of water, and tried to figure out the maze of diff locks and transfer case positions. Once I had it figured out, I started rolling again. Trying to turn the big machine through a half circle at the southern end of Stockton bridge was rather difficult. Luckily, the rugged machine didn't complain when I accidentally backed into a few cars.
just as I finished the turn, I noticed the screen, and the switches for all the cameras, front, rear, infra red.
I made it to the apartment building two hours after I left, Surveying the road out front, they had called in reinforcements. At least as many newcomers replaced the ones I had killed.
Hammer down and rolling over a seemingly inexhaustible supply of bloodthirsty killers.
By clearing them, I was laying out a feast for their friends, but I needed to get them away from the front of the building.
After countless passes, they started to get a little shy.
Time to act. I reversed toward the glass foyer at a forty five degree angle. The glass was inset a little from the front of the building, I fitted snugly into the corner, a triangle of free space between me and the glass.
I could just squeeze past the outward opening rear door, semi safe in my triangle courtyard. Soon enough one crawled under the truck, I shot it in the head as it appeared in my little space. Again and again this happened, until the dead formed a plug.
With a new magazine I shot out some of the thick glass, enough to crawl through, into the still secure foyer.
Like a lot of apartment buildings, The entry hall in this one held nothing more than some mailboxes, an elevator with a dead display, and the ground floor entrance to the fire escape. Good, that was just what I was looking for.
Throwing all my kit ahead of me, I closed the Bushmaster and gingerly climbed through the glass.
Predictably, the Fire door couldn't accessed from my side without a special key. Absolutely crazy design, I never could figure how it was legal.
The crowd was getting rather interested in what I was doing, They started pounding on the inch think glass, just as I fired up the chainsaw.
I only needed a hole big enough for my arm to fit . so I could tap the release from the inside. I cut fairly low on the door, so I had to reach up at an awkward angle to hit the release. Just in case they got in behind me.
Shine my light into the darkness, No movement, The stairwell was safe at this point.
Guns, backpacks, chainsaw, pry bar and me through the door into the darkness, pull the door closed behind me. Some cracks radiating out from my improvised entry point. Not good. Perhaps my disappearance through the door would calm them.
Scan around, "To Car Park" on another door, only other way was up the stairs. Decided to check the car park, perhaps having another way out would be a good thing. Carefully push on the release bar. Ease open the door, just an inch or two. Nothing, silence. Block the door with my chainsaw, and creep into the car spaces for a quick reconnoitre. Two exits, A large roller shutter for the vehicular traffic. Locked in the down position, with no visible means of overriding it. Also a fire escape door, between the roller door and the wall, by my reckoning, right beside the glass foyer. A last resort only.
Back into the stairway and close the door. I decided to check the stairs before lugging up my gear. After a not so quick climb to 6, I found it was all clear.
Wandering back to the ground floor and my kit, I thought about my next move, Walking into an ambush, or having the same sneak up behind me would be unfortunate, so close to the prize.
The upper fire escape doors were not able to be opened from inside the stair case, That little key again. But could be easily opened from the other side, by human or beast, just rub up against the release bar and voila, Kloster Parts Technician Salad is on the menu.
I really just wanted to get to whoever needed my help, but it payed to be careful. Back to the garage. There were around twenty cars in there. I broke into half of them. Retrieving the spare tyres. I used them to wedge the doors shut, simply laying them between the door and the stair rail on all six floors.
Time to go to work.
The chainsaw echoed madly in the stair well, cutting a arm sized hole into the fire door. An emaciated arm shot through the hole, as my hearing returned, I could make out growling. The door clicked and moved in an inch or two as the creature leaned on the release. Glad for the tyre, I stamped down on the arm, breaking it. Its opposite number appeared, It two got broken. as it retreated, I followed with the Steyr, hearing a yelp, even though my ears were ringing from the heavy riffles report.
My headlight picked three monsters in the darkened hallway, though mounds on the floor suggested there had been more. two more shots and they were all down. No other movement. .22 double tap. Check the rest of the hallway, human remains gnawed clean, they must have been living off each other since it all went to hell.
Take a guess at the correct apartment and knock on the door, A hoarse weak voice, vaguely familiar asked "Who is it"?
Really?
"Your knight in shining armour" I answered, She opened the door
And Collapsed.
"Who can it be knocking at my door?
Go 'way, don't come 'round here no more.
"Can't you see that it's late at night?
I'm very tired, and I'm not feeling right.
All I wish is to be alone;
Stay away, don't you invade my home.
Best off if you hang outside,
Don't come in, I'll only run and hide."
Who can it be now. Men at Work.