17

Sunlight burst through the cracks in the curtains.

Ash’s eyes shot open as he rolled over. There was an empty space beside him.

Jerking upright, he kicked both legs over the end of the bed and went to look for Ivy. He found her downstairs, in the lounge room, curled up on an armchair.

“Hey,” she said, listening to the sound of his approaching footsteps. “I woke up hours ago and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I came down here.”

He’d only had a few hours sleep himself. Even though it had been heavenly to rest his bones on a solid mattress for the first time in weeks, Ash had slept poorly. However, his overly active mind had given him time to think things through.

He was determined – more so than ever – to survive the war. Someday he would be reunited with his army. Someday he would return home.

His first move would be to investigate Airlie Beach and find a means to make peaceful contact with the British troops, without putting his own head in the noose.

Ash had made his situation awfully complicated after murdering Hugh Edwin and Charles Mason, but he would find a way to redeem himself.

Besides, although Ivy was the reason for his situation, she was also the solution to the problem. Regardless of the blunder he had made, Ivy was still useful to him. Not only as a pilot of the RAAF, but also as a former Prime Minister’s granddaughter.

Better yet, everything Ivy had told him suggested she had a high profile.

He had spent the night mulling over ways to use Ivy to his advantage. At last, Ash had hatched a plan to earn back his dignity and aid his army. As if playing double agent, Ash would continue to work with Ivy and build common goals, even though his agenda would be quite the opposite. If he played his cards right, he might be able to pick her brain and pull out confidential information.

Surely someone with her profile would know something of value, right?

Although the thought was uncomfortable, showing Ivy kindness and affection would further cement their trust. With his façade still in place, Ash would have to up the ante and make her feel an emotional connection.

The stronger the bond she felt with him, the more likely she’d open up and reveal classified material.

Then it would simply be a matter of reaching out to the British Army with the insider knowledge. He would then lure Ivy into a false security, and hand her over in exchange for his freedom.

It was perhaps the only way to restore his honour.

Ash stepped towards Ivy and tried to rest a comforting hand on her. She flinched at first, startled by his sudden warmth, but she soon began to smile.

“I could really go for some breakfast.”

Ash clicked his fingers in agreement and helped Ivy up from her chair. He directed her into the kitchen and fetched her a can of tinned peaches from the pantry.

After handing Ivy a spoon, she took a whiff of the canned goods and pulled a face, but eventually began to tuck in. While she had breakfast, Ash took a moment to prepare himself for the day ahead.

He climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom, catching a glimpse of his reflection in a full-length mirror.

Ash was still wearing his commando uniform. It was filthy and covered in holes.

Knowing his attire would be risky to wear in public, he raided the wardrobes and found a pair of denim jeans and a black checked shirt. He undressed and put on the foreign clothing. At first, the jeans were a little too loose, but he found a belt to keep them in place. Ash also spotted a bottle of cheap cologne in the bathroom and held no reservations as he doused it over his body.

Once dressed, Ash slipped back into his shoes, picked up the Skye-Scroll tablet and joined Ivy at the breakfast table.

She was still struggling to get through the peaches.

“Are you sure these aren’t expired?” she asked. “They taste friggin’ foul.”

Ash peered over the table, examined them and typed a reply.

“They look perfectly fine to me.”

Ivy took another mouthful, and then took a deep sniff of the air.

“And what’s that smell? Are you wearing aftershave?”

“Do you like it?”

“You reek like a used car salesman,” she said, before adding. “No offence.”

“None taken.”

She was silent for some time, shovelling another spoonful of peaches from the tin.

“Aren’t you going to eat something?” she asked, sensing he was watching her.

“There is not much food left in the pantry, so I’m going into town today. I will see what I can find. Maybe I can find someone to help us.”

Ivy put the spoon down.

“Hold on,” she said, placing both hands on the table. “You’re actually thinking of going down there? To Airlie Beach?”

“Yes.”

“Are you asking for a death sentence?”

“We might have no choice. We can’t hide up here forever.”

“You said the main ports were swarming with bloody troops, Ash. We ought to lie low for a little longer.”

“And wait to die?”

“Hey now, I want to fight – same as you – but we can’t yet. We need reinforcements first, so we need to wait it out a little longer.”

“I’ll arm myself and stay off the main roads. I’ll be fine.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” she said, pushing back her chair and standing.

“It’s too dangerous for you.”

She chuckled. Her laughter was harsh, as if belittling him.

“Dangerous? It’s a good thing I’m a trained fighter then. I’m not some weak little girl that can’t defend herself. If you’re going, I’m damn well coming too.”

“You might have more experience in combat than I do, but you are injured and blinded. You can’t deny your vulnerability anymore.”

As predicted, she didn’t take kindly to his comments. Ivy nearly flipped the table, firing off at the mouth, relentlessly swearing at him. Ash waited. When she was finally finished, Ash typed in a strategic reply,

“I want you to stay here, because I care. I need to do this alone.”

“A Sydney boy like you wouldn’t stand a damn chance,” she snapped. “I know my way around Airlie Beach.”

“You can’t see.”

“Yeah, I friggin’ know that!” she screeched. “You don’t have to keep reminding me of my goddamn handicap. I’m already quite aware of it.”

“Then you will understand it’s not safe for you. I will not risk taking you with me.”

“This is bullshit. You’re leaving me on my own?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.”

Ivy looked like she wanted to challenge him, but she bit down on her tongue. His statement, of course, was hollow and empty – but she would never know. Without another word to say, Ivy turned around and felt her hands along the walls as she walked away. Ash then made his ascent up the stairs to the main bedroom and prepared for the day ahead.

He found a backpack in the wardrobe and loaded it up with some basic necessities – water, packaged food, a first-aid kit and his Skye-Scroll tablet. Lastly, he picked up his shotgun and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

Ash then walked back down the stairs and stopped by the lounge room before he made his departure. He found Ivy huddled up on the same armchair he’d found her in this morning. She heard him approaching. She turned away.

Not knowing what to say, Ash leaned forward and cupped a hand behind Ivy’s head, as if reassuring her that he would return.

Ivy said nothing, but the resentment was etched on her face.

Knowing he was only making matters worse, Ash exited the room and began walking down the hall towards the front door. With his gun at the ready, he stepped out of the house for the first time that morning.

The sun was warm, the breeze was light and the sky was flawlessly blue. With each breath, Ash caught the scent of spring flowers in bloom.

Jerking his head to the left, he spotted the car sitting idly under a purple flowered tree. Maybe there would be a spare key somewhere inside? Ash considered searching for it, but driving any kind of vehicle would be risky. He would be harder to detect on foot.

With one final glance towards the house, Ash looked to the road ahead and began his journey into the unknown.

***

He continued down the asphalt terrain, lost in the stillness.

Aside from the occasional rustling of leaves or call from a foreign bird, there was nothing but silence.

He walked with both hands wrapped around his weapon, ready to fight at any given moment. However, apart from a few abandoned homes left scattered across the headlands, there was nothing but trees.

The road seemed endlessly long and he didn’t have the slightest clue where he was going. Ash came to a stop, trying to find his bearings, but instead he heard a peaceful sound of tranquillity. He could hear the familiar echo of waves rolling onto the shore, perhaps in the not so far distance. Ash scanned his eyes through the towering trees, spying a steep incline to a possible lookout.

He briskly stepped towards it and began to climb. Once he reached the top, he stood up in the clearing. He took one look out towards the ocean before dropping his head back down again.

Ships were on the move. Hundreds of them.

Crouched down behind a small shrub, Ash carefully lifted his head and peered over, cautious not to give himself away.

Like something out of a history book, a countless number of sea vessels – all bearing the British flag – were sailing along the coast, southbound.

Ash then directed his eyes back to the main ports – it had been left deserted. All the boats and ships that had once harboured space at Airlie Beach were now leaving.

It left Ash with mixed feelings. Although fewer soldiers meant a smaller chance of being captured, the abrupt departure seemed unprecedented. Why not hold the ground they had taken over? Why were they already moving on?

Ash racked his brain for an answer, but alas the questions remained.

He watched as the fleet rolled by the headland, but before long he climbed back down and resumed his journey into the town. More than forty minutes later, he saw the first signs of civilisation as buildings and businesses came into view. However, the streets were empty. There wasn’t a single person in sight.

He had researched Airlie Beach as a location more than a thousand times, and it had always been described as a buzzing town, often overcrowded with tourists.

But today? Nothing. It was hauntingly empty.

He kept off the main roads and tried his best to conceal himself in the shadows – which was much easier said than done in the morning sunlight. Ash kept his senses sharp as he tried to detect movement, but Airlie Beach had been left abandoned.

Another half an hour crawled by. He was well in the heart of the city now, seeing the streets overflowing with litter, debris and empty shell casings. Many of the surrounding buildings had also been destroyed – nothing more than piles of rubble – but even the ones still standing had been broken into. Dozens of stores had been looted, with windows no more than shattered glass.

Despite the ruins, the traffic lights were still operational, indicating there was still power available within the city.

At last, the iconic beach was now in full view.

The palm trees appeared to be dying, the ferns browning at the ends and wilting to the side. He continued on and tucked away the gun for the first time that morning. In fact, he decided to chance walking on the main roads. Ash stepped towards the shore, eyeing large vessels beached upon the sand.

In plain sight, the vessels appeared to be enormous cylinder-shaped canisters, with one lone door at the very end. There were four of them, but one of the canisters had its door left open. Ash peered inside, keen to get a closer look, but they were empty. Only a few stray wires remained inside.

Perplexed, Ash scoped the outside of the canister to see a British Army emblem engraved on the exterior, along with an acronym; ‘B.A.I.’

He looked over them for a second time, but then Ash realised he had seen them once before – several weeks ago. During his first night on the island, Ash had seen strange objects floating under the water. The Australians had tried to destroy them, but the cylinders had seemingly opened fire.

When Ash had asked Ivy if he’d known what they were, she told them they’d been British submarines, but now he knew for certain they were not.

The cylinders were foreign to him. Ash had never seen anything like it.

By his best guess, they were underwater capsules, probably used for transporting precious cargo. The cylinders were unsuitable for harbouring soldiers. Yet still, they had washed up on the beach. What had been inside them?

Although Ash was only a commando, he often kept tabs on the latest pieces of equipment in the British military – but there had never been a mention of B.A.I capsules.

He lingered by the beach for a few more moments before departing to the main port. Keeping a steady pace, Ash followed street signs leading to Abell Port Marina.

He’d reached his destination in minutes, but it too, was a disaster zone.

Only war-torn boats remained, and a strong stench of smoke and pollution clung to the air. He tossed down his backpack and tried to gather his thoughts. It was now, without doubt, he knew he’d missed a golden opportunity to re-join his army.

The British were gone, and he had no idea where they were headed to next.

Ash placed both hands behind his head and exhaled deeply. Every glimmer of hope had been shot down at its inception.

Turning his head to the left, Ash spotted a rare patch of green grass upon a hill, but the centre had been freshly soiled over with a billboard erected in the middle.

Picking up his backpack once more, he edged closer to it, curious to read the sign. He was only a few metres away when he stopped. There was something sticking up through the topsoil.

A hand. A human hand.

He stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet and falling to the ground. Heart pounding in his chest, Ash squinted his eyes and read the billboard. It boasted,

Here lie the fallen enemies.

A mass grave. No doubt about it.

The British had made landfall some time ago, and clearly, they had left no survivors. Ash sprung back to his feet, dusted himself off and tried to process the discovery. He had reason to believe the grave contained civilians – where else could everyone be? It was possible the British had taken prisoners, but clearly the rest of them had been laid to waste.

Ash turned around, not daring to look back.

Although he had killed many soldiers during his time in service, the murder of innocent civilians seemed heinously wrong. Besides, it had never been a part of the mission. Ash and his comrades were instructed to take control of Airlie Beach but had been specifically told to bring no harm to the local citizens – apparently, the plans had changed.

Fighting through his repulsion, Ash turned around and made his departure.

Along the way, he spied a grocery store. Although the doors had been kicked in, with evident signs of a robbery, Ash could still see some items stocked on the shelves. Without hesitation he stepped inside and helped himself to the edible products.

Ash stuffed as much food and water into his backpack that he could carry. He found mostly tinned or packaged food, but there were some golden finds amongst the necessities – including coffee, caramel fudge and two ripened bananas.

He then scavenged through a number of different stores along the way and managed to pick up a pocket knife and a functioning torch.

Before long, two hours flew by and Ash had raided several buildings, finding destruction everywhere he turned, without the slightest sign of another human being.

However, just as he prepared to leave the town and return to the house, a noise beckoned from down the road.

The sound of some kind of power saw or electronic tool in operation could be heard from within a used car warehouse, less than twenty-five metres away from him.

Keen to investigate, Ash pulled out his gun and cocked the forearm.

With heightened senses, he crept towards the warehouse. There was a distinctive beam of light pouring from the crack in the roller door, followed by several bright flashes.

Maybe there were some survivors after all.

Ash was in two minds about prying into enemy territory, but his curiosity got the better of him. Now just metres away, Ash stepped behind the roller door and carefully peered through the crack.

At first, he saw nothing but rusting cars – that had surely seen better days – but the noise from within had grown significantly louder, before fading into a deathly silence.

Suddenly, a burst of sparks appeared from the far corner of the warehouse.

There was something operating an angle grinder, but it was not human.

A chill ran over Ash’s shoulders, struggling to process what he was seeing – it was pushing twelve foot, with an appearance of thick titanium, complete with four limbs and a head. It was a machine of some kind, but it was living.

Ash watched as the machine placed down the grinder, made some adjustments and then picked up a blowtorch. Pieces of metal began to fuse together.

Although he couldn’t quite explain what it was, the machine had all the characteristics of a functioning robot, although it seemed far more advanced than anything he’d ever seen.

Even its head had human-like features, complete with a grill for a mouth, a metallic bulb for a nose and two purple lights for eyes. And then, Ash spied the lettering on the machine’s torso. It read, ‘B.A.I-BOT,’ with the British Army emblem underneath it.

Whatever it was, it belonged to the Brits. Clearly, the machine had once occupied the space within one of the four capsules washed up on Airlie Beach.

As sparks continued to fly, Ash ducked his head down and continued to watch, unable to tear his eyes away.

The machine was constructing something, seemingly out of old car parts. Ash couldn’t quite work out what it was trying to build, so he repositioned himself from a different angle behind the roller door to gain a better view.

The machine finally placed down the blowtorch and then used its intricate fingers to adjust some wiring around its creation.

The longer Ash looked at it, the clearer it became – the machine had built something in the same size and dimensions of itself, and it too had four limbs and a head.

The machine was replicating itself, with whatever materials it could find.

Although Ash didn’t make a sound, he felt a hit of adrenaline run riot through his body. In that moment, the machine jerked its head towards the roller door. Ash froze, not daring to move, but he changed his mind as the machine suddenly raised a fist out in front of itself.

Ash ducked out of the way just as a fireball slammed into the roller door. The intense heat left Ash’s skin searing in pain, even though it had narrowly missed him.

Heavy thuds could be heard edging closer to the entrance of the warehouse. Ash wasted no time as he legged it, running harder than he ever had before.

Risking a glance over his shoulder, he saw the machine had emerged from the warehouse and was preparing to open fire again.

Like aiming a gun on a moving target, the machine shifted its fist through the air as he tried to direct it at Ash. He discharged his own gun at the machine while running. Missed.

Ash managed to dart behind a corner just as another fireball skimmed by. Gritting his teeth, Ash pumped his body to work a little harder as he ran away from the main road, hoping to conceal himself amongst the nearby trees.

By luck, the machine chose not to pursue him, and Ash was in the clear.

Although his body was trembling from the shock, he knew he had to keep moving, or risk a likely death. Ash continued to run, but he failed to understand what he had just witnessed.

His feet hit the pavement a little harder than usual, feeling a surge of animosity deep from within.

It was then, a crushing truth became clear – his own army had deceived him.