Afterfall

John sat down at the desk with the radio, sipping from a mug of hot black coffee to warm up. It was from some cheap brand that he'd never heard of before, and the taste was horrible, but it’s all he had left. And it was even worse, now that the last of the milk had gone bad. Still, it was better than nothing, if only for the warmth it offered. It was early morning, so the windows were still frosted over, and the room was still heating up after he loaded up the fireplace with a small amount of kindling and a large log. It had almost gone out the night before, and that could have been a death sentence. He cursed himself for his carelessness, he could have frozen in the night, and he’d never have known.

“You’re an idiot, John!” He cursed at himself again, but even the sound of his own voice felt strange after more than a month alone in this small cabin. It was literally one room, and relatively small at that. It wasn’t perfectly insulated for the cold the whole world was now experiencing, but it was enough to avoid freezing to death.

Unfortunately, most people hadn’t been quite so lucky. He’d already found far too many bodies frozen solid, even when covered in a dozen blankets. It just didn’t help at a certain point. Blankets trap body heat, but if there wasn’t much heat to trap, all you were doing was prolonging your suffering. Far better to fall into a five-meter snow drift and never come out, he figured. John shook his head once more to push away the images from his mind. But he’d seen enough bodies by that point to know that he’d never get their expressions and distorted features out of his head. Then again, those memories barely featured in the top ten list of horrors he’d witnessed since the first snow more than a month earlier.

He sat listening in to the short-wave frequency that had kept him sane these last weeks. The chatter wasn’t always interesting, and it usually consisted of nearly identical weather reports, and updates. But it was another human voice to counter act the silence. A voice that wasn't his own was a blessing he'd come to appreciate whenever he could. John couldn’t believe how much he missed the everyday sounds of the old world, hell even the sounds of animals rustling outside had fallen mostly silent since the night of the first blizzard. But now there was nothing, and John wondered just how many animals, big or small, had managed to survive. After all, Australian animals were hardly suited to the cold.

A voice came over the radio at last signalling a start to his usual check in with the fellow group of survivors. He recognised the man's voice immediately, “Good morning, everyone, it’s time for another check in!” 'Highlands' said through the radio.

“Roger that!” John said into the radio, acknowledging that he was listening, followed by a dozen other voices just moments later.

‘Highlands’ took in a deep breath, then said, “I’m glad everyone is still alive, I don’t want to hear about anyone else dropping off the network. Now, it’s time for a quick weather report. It looks like a clear day in the southern highlands. The wife said she saw blue out there, but it’s hard to be sure. It’s not snowing this morning, and it looks like we might finally be getting a break from the blizzard.” That was welcome news to John and the rest of the group, although ‘Highlands’ report was someway away from his location in the Gippsland foothills in Victoria. Still, they tended to share similar weather, so he glanced through the still frosted window to get a better look. True enough, the snow had let up for him as well. There was no sign of blue sky, but it was warmer than it had been for three weeks.

They’d shared a few conversations over the last month, but ‘Highlands’ preferred to spend less time on the radio than most, and more time with his family. He couldn’t blame the man, but for John, it was his only company in those lonely freezing weeks since it all began. He had a vague idea where ‘Highlands’ was based on the identifier he used. John had visited Kangaroo Valley many years earlier, and he concluded that the mountains and forests might offer a little more protection from the weather than a lot of areas. Of course, his contact outside of Australia was limited except for a man he’d spoken to early one morning that called himself ‘Church’. ‘Church’ had been a preacher, but people usually gave their identifiers based on their location, and judging by the man’s accent, he figured he had to be somewhere on the other side of the Tasman Sea.

In either case, they might as well have been on the other side of the planet as far as John was concerned. Travel in the weeks since the blizzard hit had been all but impossible. Hell, even John spent only an hour at a time out in the weather. But firewood, water, and food were essential. He might still have a decent supply of tinned food and energy bars thanks to the ‘prepper’ mindset of the cabin’s previous owner, but if he relied on them too heavily, he’d run out in six months easily. The thought had crossed his mind more than once that someone this prepared might have also put a bunker down somewhere nearby as well, but he hadn’t seen any sign of it, not that he’d had too many chances to look.

Because of the cold, there was no time to mess around outside. Any thoughts of searching for a bunker that might or might not exist was quickly pushed aside. Instead, John listed off all the things he had to do that day, grateful that he might have a few hours more than normal to have a look for other potential food sources other than small game and pine nettles, they had to be living off something. While he planned out his day, he took in the weather reports, and the general sense that the worst of the cold was passing nearly everywhere. Another man that he’d spoken with a few times began as soon as ‘Highlands’ was done.

“We’re doing okay out in the desert.” ‘Bourke’ announced, “Only light snow overnight, but that wind is still ice cold. The rocky sands are still covered in three feet of white powder, and it is not going anywhere any time soon. I reckon I’ll get three hours out there today; it seems to be a few degrees warmer.”

He continued to outline is plans and chores for the day, just as ‘Highlands’ had done, it seemed silly to John at first, but he’d come to realise what it was. It had fostered a sense of connection with people that had hunkered down and isolated when the cold really set in. It gave them a sense of accountability to each other, like doing the work they could was in some way contributing to an imagined community they were building now that everything else was gone.

Well, not gone! Not completely! John knew, but civilization as they all knew it was certainly dead. If people had survived in any given area, there weren’t many, and some of the stories people had told since it all started were just horrific. Hell, John had plenty of his own experiences to draw on there, that fuckin’ truck with half a dozen school age girls locked in tiny cages on the back that had passed him on the highway when he was fleeing town. How they hadn’t frozen was beyond his imagination, but then again, global temperatures didn’t really plummet until the blizzard hit in the second week.

Of course, there were stories and rumours, plenty of conspiracy theories to go around about what had caused all of it. But that just made it obvious to John that people had no idea. There were reports of powerful solar flares in the weeks leading up to the new 'Snowball Earth’ as the others had called it. It was unlikely to be a coincidence, and it probably had at least something to do with it. But ‘Church’ was convinced that this was God’s modern day ‘flood’ and there was no coming back from this one.

“You’re up ‘Gippsland’!” ‘Bourke’ said once he was finished with his list.

“Roger that!” John said as he leaned closer and spoke into the old-fashioned microphone, “I haven’t been outside yet this morning to check properly, the fire nearly went out overnight, so I’ve been spending the morning trying to work out why or if it was just my own incompetence. For now, I’m assuming the latter. In any case, it feels a few degrees warmer than it was this time last week. The light seems brighter as well so the clouds aren’t as heavy. I didn’t get to check out the mount yesterday because it started to snow while I was getting the traps organised, but I should get down there today if the weather holds. I’ll update the condition of the coastal area tomorrow.” John then slid the notepad closer and started listing off his work tasks for the day, “I think it’s the same here as ‘Bourke’, I’ll probably get a bit more time outside than I’ve been getting. So, I’ll use that to check the traps and gather some firewood from sources a bit further away. I’m also still looking for a few alternative food sources other than small game and I’m happy to take in any suggestions.”

‘Highlands’ then said, “Keep an eye out for moss and lichen, some of them can be pretty good. You might want to be careful before you consume too much though. Some of them could cause problems. Same with mushrooms if you start to get any with the warmer weather.”

“Roger that!” John said in response, grateful for the other man’s experience and knowledge. He’d been a huge help in getting the snare traps built that now fed him most nights. “I figure the rabbits must be eating something, so I’ll do some exploring around the river. Thanks for the tip on the moss and lichen. We might lose most of the bigger game, but there are still plenty of rabbits around, so things might turn out okay.” He paused for a moment while his mind focused on his plans. It was better than letting his thoughts wander back to the horrific memories and nightmares that haunted his sleep. After a moment, he said, “Other than that, I’ll need to organise some drinking water and pack some snow for the ice box as well. That should chew up three or four hours. That’s me for the day.”

“Thanks for the report!” ‘Bourke’ said, before asking, “How have you been holding up mate?”

“Same shit, different day!” John replied flatly, not bothering to hide the sense of isolation, and the loneliness.

“Yeah, I hear you mate.” ‘Bourke’ added, “Hang in there.”

“Will do.” He said in acknowledgement, before turning the focus onto the next person, “Over to you ‘Dusty’.”

“Thanks!” The familiar female voice said, before launching into her report and plans. John stood and started pulling on his boots and coat, still listening, but preparing what he needed for the day ahead. He’d always offer the others the same curtesy they extended to him. It was the least he could do. ‘Dusty’ he knew was a middle-aged woman that lived somewhere north of Port Augusta. An area that was once one of the hottest places on earth. Now it was covered in snow just like everywhere else. They’d been a source of one of the more horrific stories John had heard since the world froze over. Apparently, a group of men had stormed the high school that the teenage girl attended just a day or so after it started snowing. Everyone thought the cold was temporary, that it would pass, but these people didn’t. They shot and killed most of the teenage boys before kidnapping as many of the girls as they could. Most according to ‘Dusty’ had been thirteen or younger, a similar age to her daughter, John figured.

It had shocked John, but it wasn’t at all a surprise given the things he’d seen before fleeing civilization. Lucky for ‘Dusty’ and her daughter, she had pulled her from school that day and just started driving north. Apparently, someone she worked with had a farm that she knew about, and lucky for them it had been well stocked when they arrived, and the root cellar was well insulated with an old burner that used to be used for garbage disposal. John never asked what happened to the girls that had been less fortunate, he knew it would just make him angry to hear about it. Especially having seen something similar while leaving his own hometown. He already lost enough sleep knowing he could do nothing about it.

John was already dressed and ready to go by the time ‘Alice’ completed her report from the former red centre of the country twenty minutes later. He then leaned closer to the radio and gave a quick acknowledgement, so they knew he’d been listening, before standing to get on with the day.

The cabin itself truly was a lucky find, containing just a single living space with a small kitchen, a bed in the corner of the room next to a desk with the radio on it, and a couple of lounge chairs in front of an old fireplace. There was also a small bathroom that he barely used, except for the toilet. He'd managed to stop the pipes from blocking and bursting with the regular application of anti-freeze but he still preferred not to use it if he could avoid it. The place was small, but that also made it easy to heat. He knew he’d been lucky to find the place, but there were also other farmsteads nearby that he’d been slowly clearing and gathering supplies from to keep building his reserves. Unfortunately most were completely unsuitable for just one person, and God knows if that would ever change.

Thankfully the fire was going properly once again, and there didn’t appear to be any leaks or cold spots so it probably was his own inattentiveness that had caused the problem. Still, it reminded him that he needed to clean out the chimney at some point and get rid of the excess ash. But it could wait for another day. He tossed another log on the fireplace to keep it going until he got back, then headed for the front door. He pulled on his thick fur jacket before gathering the rifle, slinging it over his shoulder before heading out into the cold. The chill was instant when he opened the door, but it was easily ten or more degrees warmer than it had been for the last three weeks.