William Dietrich - Getting back

"Ordinary people can't handle this," Raven said. "They wouldn't understand."

"Understand that their system is run by blunderers?"

"Understand that sometimes mistakes are made, or sacrifices ordered, for society's greater good." She was talking about them, they knew.

"And sometimes lives are wasted because of venal stupidity and greed," Daniel countered. He'd been sour since the previous night.

Ethan was tired of the arguing. "Let's take what we can use on the trek and leave."

"No, don't take!" Oliver warned anxiously.

"I think he must have seen people pick up the plague from sifting through stuff, early on," Amaya speculated. She put her arms on Oliver's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "It's all right," she said to the Australian. "I've seen the ghosts too, and they want to help the living. They want the Australians to come back."

His look was puzzled. "They're coming back?"

"Us, Oliver. You, Daniel, Ethan, me. The new Australians." She did not include Raven.

He looked doubtful, but didn't interfere as they took some metal to try to fashion spearheads, two glass bottles to carry water, and a handful of rusty nails. The fact was, they couldn't travel with much more. The weight wasn't worth the benefit. No wonder nomadic warriors used to destroy more than they acquired, Daniel thought. How much could they steal? So they walked on, heeding Oliver's advice to camp well away in the bush. They joked about it, but they were all secretly relieved in the morning that no ghosts had come at night.

Dirt station tracks sometimes led east now. When they were encountered the party followed them, making good if monotonous time. When the crude roads turned a different direction the five of them continued east by striking cross-country, the idea of finding their own way no longer foreign. On and on, by compass and by sun, a ceaseless rhythm. The days blurred into weeks and the land became thick with grass, the trees taller. They realized they'd left the worst desert behind. Australia was getting greener.

The first river with actual water in it was like a deliverance. The water was brown and the current limpid, but by God it flowed- a real river! They plunged in, clothes and all, even dragging a reluctant Oliver in with them, and then shed their clothes and splashed each other like savages, the sand cool and yielding between their toes. There was no self-consciousness; they'd been together too long. Besides, Ethan and Amaya sometimes slept away from the others at night and were assumed to be making love. Raven, however, stayed on her own side of the fire, aloof and unhappy. Daniel dourly watched her.

They camped by the river for two days to wash, play, and recuperate. Ethan didn't want to leave.

"This is the first time I've really been happy since I crashed in this nightmare," he confided to Daniel. "Maybe we should just stay here for a while."

"And not get back?"

"Just take a break. What's our hurry? I'm finally having a good time."

"With Amaya."

"With the wilderness. What I came here for."

"The batteries on those boxes won't last forever. Raven says maybe a year. We have to signal before then if we're ever going to warn the world."

"So I have to walk again tomorrow?" The complaint was a deliberate imitation of a childish whine.

"Afraid so, mate. I'd rather stay in bed too."

"I hope we're getting close to that beach."

"We've found the sand. It's the ocean we're lacking."

Their first hamlet was a place called Urandangie, according to a weathered sign still hanging by a nail from the one standing corrugated steel wall of a collapsed building. It was a desolate portal to civilization. Most of the tiny town had burned down, either in a riot or subsequent brush fire, and what remained looked like it had been pillaged. Broken glass crunched amid the weeds that filled abandoned gravel streets. The loneliness was sad testimony to the chaos that must have descended on the continent when its inhabitants realized they'd been abandoned to plague. Oliver didn't want to pause. "Best to walk on," he said.

They initially agreed with him, but at the far edge of the town there was an old garage that looked inhabited. There were new boards on its sagging roof. Inside they saw heaps of collated junk: old fabric, rusting tools, salvaged bottles. Outside, a fire pit smoldered. Someone lived here, but had fled.

They looked uneasily at the curtain of dusty trees around the building. There was a clear sense of being watched.

"Do you think it could be the Warden's men?" Amaya asked.

"They wouldn't be hiding from us," Daniel said. "Maybe it's others like Oliver."

"Maybe we should help ourselves to their belongings," Ethan suggested practically. "They'll come out then."

"No," said Raven. "Maybe they're like us, and if we leave it alone they'll know we're not stealing." She raised her voice. "Come on out! We're peaceful! Maybe we can help you!"

There was no answer.

"Let's just go," Ethan said. "Oliver's right. This place is gloomy."

"No," Amaya said. "Raven's right. We need to help each other. I think we should camp here, away from their things, and wait for them."

The men looked around the bleak little town and then at Oliver.

"They're here," the Australian said. "I can feel them."

"What about the transmitter?" Daniel asked the others.

"We don't say anything about it until we've sized them up," Raven replied. "But we might want to invite them along. There's safety in numbers."

There was a small creek nearby and a stack of firewood. They built a fire, set up camp, and settled down to wait. The smell of their dinner drifted into the trees.

Their neighbors emerged at dusk. It was a man and a woman, both holding wooden staffs sharpened like spears. They approached cautiously, as if Daniel's group might spring on them at any moment, and they looked like the adventurers did, dressed in the dusty and faded synthetics they must have been wearing when dropped in the Outback. Their skin was clean and the man's beard neatly trimmed. The woman's hair was tied back. They were making an attempt at normality, but strain showed in their faces.

"Hungry?" Raven asked.

There was no reply.

"Quiet," Ethan observed.

"Why don't you eat with us?" Daniel offered.

The couple stood far enough away to bolt. "Who are you?" the man finally asked warily.

"Outback Adventurers, like you."

They started at that.

"We're just passing through," Raven added.

"You're the first women I've seen in a long time," the female said. "That's why we came out. Because you're women, but free."

"I'm Raven and this is Amaya. We're going east."

"To Exodus Port?"

"Sort of."

"We were told it doesn't exist," the man warned.

"And you are?" Daniel inquired.

"Peter. Peter Knowles, and this is Jessica Polarski. We've had a rough time and learned to be wary of strangers."

"I understand." He made introductions of his group. "And this is Oliver. He was born here."

The two newcomers looked in surprise at the tattered Australian companion. "I was always here," Oliver said proudly. "This place is mine."

"Somehow he survived the plague," Daniel explained.

"Is he your guide?"

"Sort of. He knows a lot of bush craft and we persuaded him to tag along. He's a little… eccentric, but I suppose we are too. What's your story?"

Peter sighed. "There were four of us, originally. We got lost, and then in trouble, and fell in with a nomad group. We thought they were hikers but then they said there's no way to get back and we had to join them. Except they were convicts! Thieves, murderers. It became this bizarre nightmare. They said there were morally impaired people being dumped all over Australia. They killed my friend for his gear and started raping his girlfriend."