The sun was reaching its peak, and she enjoyed the warmth of its rays. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last time she would feel them on her skin. She couldn’t help but think she was on her farewell drive, taking in her last sight of the world they had lost. Dee wound down her window and let the wind blow through her hair, enjoying the sensation. Jack always said to enjoy the little things.
They broke the world and ripped my life apart. I’m going to do my best to take back what’s mine.
Don’t give up hope, Jack. It’s all we got left.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jack fought against the strong undertow and currents, and kicked to the surface, pulling George with him. He cradled the child in a lifesaver’s embrace and gulped for air. The added weight of George and his hiking pack, combining with the turbulence from the spillway, forced Jack back down under the muddy water. Realising the pack had to go, he struggled to remove it while trying to keep himself and George afloat. Finally the pack slipped off his shoulders. He watched as it bobbed in the swirling river, the current sweeping it away toward the bank. He would miss it. It had been a good friend for some years now, since Dee had given it to him as a gift.
The cacophony of screeches and howls broke into his thoughts as the torrent drove him away from the dam, lessening the roar of flowing water. He closed his eyes briefly, cursing silently. For a second there, everything had been normal. When he opened them again, he couldn’t miss the monsters. They were racing along the tops of the steep cliffs on either side, keeping up with his and George’s progress downstream. The thick undergrowth barely slowed them, as they took to the trees, swinging from branch to branch instead.
Jack kicked with his legs, willing the current to move him down the river faster. The sun was getting quite high in the sky now. He hoped it would force the monsters back to their nest. As he floated, the monsters continued their relentless pursuit, screeching at him from both sides. Every now and then he heard the almighty bellow of the leader. He could just picture it, weird bark skin and spiked shoulders, and the grotesque child-head trophies. Jack couldn't see him, but he would never get the sight of the two children’s heads on either side of his head out of his mind.
Frantically, he searched for a way out. They had made it this far. Alive, bruised, broken, and injured — well, he was — but alive. He didn’t want to give up now. He had fought to break away from his cocoon. He had found some salvation in George. He had discovered the reason behind their capture. They had escaped. All this would be for nothing if he didn’t find a way for them to reach safety.
Feeling George nestled into his chest, hanging on to him for any sort of comfort, confirmed it. He was thankful. Thankful for this chance at redemption. Jack looked around for a way out. He had trained as a lifesaver in his youth, but with all the trauma his body had gone through, he wouldn’t last much longer in the river.
Farther down the river, he could still see the limestone cliffs soaring high. But lower down, little pockets of bank had eroded away to form muddy coves covered in a thick tangled mess of tree roots and scrub. He could see the bright green of his hiking pack floating close by.
As far as Jack could see, there weren’t any monsters in the scrub. Their screeches sounded close, though. He really needed to get out of the river. Risking it, he kicked for shore, toward one of the muddy coves and his pack. Pushing George in front of him, he pulled his exhausted body out of the river, hooking his leg through the strap of his pack as he did so. To have any chance at survival, he needed his pack. Cold water dripped of his head, splattering onto the mud. Having trouble focusing on his immediate surroundings, he realised the last few days were beginning to take their toll. Wiping some of the water out of his eyes, he crawled under the mess of roots. Exhausted, he leant up against the tree. Looking down at the thick mud coating his legs and arms gave Jack an idea. Scooping up handfuls of mud, he started to coat George with it.
“Sorry, buddy. I know it’s cold and gross, but we need to hide from the monsters, okay?”
Jack made sure the kid was completely covered before doing himself. Maybe it will work. It was worth a shot.
The creatures clearly had excellent vision and a heightened sense of smell, not to mention exceptional hearing. As exhausted as he was, he knew that if he wanted any chance of getting down the river, they had to hide out for now and rest.
For now they had achieved the impossible: they had escaped the hell of that place.
Since learning of the virus, Jack had been trying to get home to Dee. They had always had a “what if?” plan. But no amount of planning and preparation had prepared him for the horrors that now hunted him. He had always been a keen outdoors type, and had learnt the hard way that you needed to be prepared for anything.
One spring day, a day hike turned into a three day nightmare. The weather was cool, clear and crisp as he set off on his six-hour return hike up one of the many valleys cutting their way through the mountains close to his home.
The trip up the valley passed with no incidents. On the return journey, he slipped on a wet rock and caught his boot on a tree root. The result was that he broke his ankle as he tumbled down a steep ravine.
Jack shouted for help until he lost his voice. He had broken the cardinal rule: he hadn’t told anyone of his intentions.
With little hope of rescue, Jack spent the next three days crawling out of the ravine, and then farther down the river to the more popular walking tracks. A very surprised group of elderly hikers found an extremely dehydrated and hungry Jack.
The relief had been immense. He had learned his lesson. Now he followed a strict code of conduct.
Always be prepared.
Sounds of the monsters scrambling through the bush reached Jack. He prayed for his mud trick to work. The closest monster let out a screech. He held George’s hand tight as the mud-covered kid snuggled into him, shaking in fear. Closer now, the screeching intensified. He struggled to keep himself from shaking in fear.
Go away… go away… go away…
A screech right above him nearly made him contemplate jumping back into the flowing water. Opening his eyes, he checked his escape route. Looking out at the river, Jack couldn’t believe his eyes.
A large motorboat was slowly making its way up the river, back toward the dam. He wanted to yell out a warning to the tall, brown-haired figure. It was hard to tell, but Jack thought he looked to be only a teenager.
The figure glanced from side to side, watching the howling monsters on top of the cliffs. Jack could see he was being careful to keep the boat in the middle of the river.
With a horrific screech, the creature above Jack tore off after the boat, following it back toward the nest.
Holding a shaking George, Jack rocked him back and forth, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay, they’ve gone for now,” he whispered. “We’re going to eat the last of my food, then we’re going to have to get back in the river, all right?”
George whimpered into his chest.
Watching the disappearing boat, Jack wondered what the hell the kid on the boat was thinking?
Has the whole world gone mad?
Dee stared at the Hydro Dam as Ben pulled to the side of the road and brought the 4x4 to stop. She could see the dam stretching across the river, a high cliff dropping away on the opposite bank.
A small electrical substation nestled against the side of the bank she stood on, and beyond, a road stretched across the dam wall, following its curvature.