Alone

Brent eyed the brewing storm on the horizon with more than a little concern. He had a problem: he was out of fuel, not to mention food and water. The motor yacht was at the mercy of the wind and currents.

He sighed dejectedly. He recalled the events leading up to this moment:

It had been 8 long years since he had last seen any other human being alive. Everyone was dead.

He looked at the golden heart-shaped locket in his hand, and remembered Gwen, his girlfriend. He had bought it to give to her on their third anniversary. He had planned it for weeks: dinner at 8 at the best Italian restaurant in town and then a walk along the promenade under the silvery moonlight until they reach their favourite spot where he would take out the locket, nestled in a box and wrapped in pretty paper, and present it to her.

But that hadn’t happened. Instead, just days before his plan could be carried out, the government had ordered a lockdown: everyone was to remain at home and anyone caught out in the streets would be arrested and fined. A deadly pandemic had rapidly swept across the world. He was forced to delay his plans.

No-one recovered from the plague. Everyone who got it died within a few days. Hospitals quickly became overwhelmed. Infrastructures rapidly collapsed. Fear gripped the world as the soaring numbers of cases and deaths were announced on the news channels and social media. Within a few short weeks the world had fallen silent.

He had initially been in daily contact with Gwen. She was terrified of losing her family. So was he. And then he did. First his mother, then his brother and finally his father had succumbed to the disease within days of each other. With the hospitals, ambulances and mortuaries swamped, no-one came to collect the bodies of his family members and he was forced to bury them in their back garden.

After that, Brent couldn’t bear to stay any longer at home. He had lost contact with Gwen at the time and spent some weeks searching for her. She wasn’t at her family home, nor at any of the places she would normally have frequented. He later checked even the hospitals and mortuaries, but was repulsed by the stench of death there.

It wasn’t long before Brent had noticed just how quiet the streets were. He hadn’t seen anyone alive since he had left home. There were no other vehicles driving about, no noise from people’s houses, no-one watching telly or listening to music. There was no sound of conversation in people’s gardens or the streets. Just silence.

Where is everyone? They can’t all be dead! Only then did Brent wonder why he had managed to survive. How come I didn’t get sick?

Suddenly feeling very alone and scared, Brent yelled at the top of his voice: “Is anyone still here?” He listened as his voice echoed away into nothing. “HELLLOOOOO! ANYBODY! PLEEASE!!” But there was only more silence. “AARGH!”

In a haze of fear and despondency and in the months that followed, Brent continued searching for Gwen and other survivors. He gradually made his way city to town, encountering only the dead. Plants and animals, both wild and domestic, rapidly took over neighbourhoods and the city centres.

He survived on what had been left behind, at first whatever he could find in the supermarkets or in people’s cupboards. Later, he picked whatever fruit and vegetables he could find from abandoned vegetable gardens and plots. He used a rifle to shoot for meat, or fished and trapped. When the electricity stopped working, fire kept him warm and cooked his food. Fuel was obtained from petrol stations wherever he went. When the car he was driving broke down, he had simply found another vehicle to use, usually by finding one parked at someone’s home and locating the keys in the house.

At night, he slept in either a motel or an unoccupied house. He avoided those still occupied by the dead. Sometimes he would stay there for days or weeks at a time while he searched the area.

About two years later, he discovered a ham radio in someone’s backyard cabin, complete with aerial. He idly switched it on and was surprised that it still worked. Encouraged, he sat down and dialled through the frequencies. “Hello? Is anyone out there? If you can hear, me, please, please answer. I’m all alone,” his voice cracked with both emotion and lack of use. He moved into the house that day and spent the rest of the winter, calling out on every channel, hopeful that someone would answer him and help him find Gwen.

After that he managed to find a portable radio kit, which meant he could continue his nightly routine of channel hopping while still being able to move from place to place during the day. Brent kept up this routine for the next 5 years, hearing only static in reply. He had begun to lose hope, but couldn’t bring himself to stop searching. Maybe Gwen was still out there somewhere.

He was shocked when he finally got a response. He had started out as he had done every night before: “This is Brent Davies, calling for anyone still out there. If you copy please respond to Channel 7,” he said dully. The first four times there was the usual static but on the fifth channel, the radio suddenly barked back, cheerfully: “Brent Davies, this is Keoki! Boy am I so happy to hear you!”

For a moment Brent froze, unable to believe his ears.

“Brent? Are you still there?” the voice crackling over the radio snapped him back to himself.

“Yes, yes! Sorry. It’s been a while. A long while since I… uh… since I heard from anyone. Oh my gosh! I can hardly believe it!” he managed to reply.

“Yeah, me too” said Keoki. “Hey, I’m based on the island of Nauru, in the South Pacific. I’ve been gathering survivors from all over the world. There are about a hundred of us here,” explained Keoki. “And now I’ve found you!” he added joyfully. “Come to us. We would welcome you.”

Nauru? Other people? There are other people still alive? Brent was incredulous. He’d been alone for so long he’d all but given up hope of evert finding anyone again.

“Ok. Wow! That’s… that’s awesome! Wow! Yes, I’ll come. Of course I’ll come. I’ll get there somehow.”

It had taken him several months to find a suitable, useable boat, a motor yacht, and to prepare for the sea crossing. He initially had no idea where Nauru was, how how to sail a boat or even to navigate there, but after consulting maps and books from the library and taking several practice runs, he finally left the harbour loaded with food, water and fuel and feeling confident he could do it.

Except he hadn’t counted on just how rough the ocean storms could get. He had already been blown off course and spent too much time trying to get back on track. His food and water had run out. Now as the boat’s engines spluttered and died, another storm was about to hit.

He pocketed the locket and frantically securing everything he could find. Then he pointed the bow straight toward the storm and waited for it. A few minutes later it hit with a ferocity that took him by surprise. When the mast snapped off, he tied the wheel and took cover below deck, strapping himself to the bunk and resigning himself to his fate. The storm raged for three days, tossing the yacht in every direction possible. It was all he could do to hold on.

On the third night, delirious and weak from hunger, thirst and exhaustion, he untied himself and tried to get up, but a large wave suddenly tumbled the yacht violently. He hit his head hard and lost consciousness. Somehow the boat didn’t sink, but came to rest on its keel again.

When he came to again, the sun was shining brightly through a white curtain gently waving in the warm breeze. It felt like a dream. He must in heaven. It took him a few moments to realise that he was in fact in a bed…with a drip in his arm. How did I get here?

He tried to sit up but his head pounded so painfully he lay back down. His loud groan attracted the attention of a nurse who quickly came to his side. “You’re awake!” she stated with excitement. She called out. Suddenly there was a great flurry of activity in which several people made an appearance by his bedside.

Still groggy he tried to make sense of what was happening, but instead he began to cry: with relief that he had found people alive; with grief for all the people he’d lost and seen dead; and from the ordeal of the sea journey and 8 years of lonely survival. He. Was. No. Longer. ALONE!

A week later, Brent was well enough to leave the small hospital. He felt like he was in a dream as he walked through the bustling village in the middle of the great ocean. He had made it to Nauru!

A young man came running up to him. “Brent!” he called out breathlessly. “I’m so happy to see you up and about, my man! I’m Keoki,” he said enthusiastically, sticking out his hand. Brent stared at him for a few minutes, uncomprehending. Then he remembered.

“You’re the guy on the radio!” He shook Keoki’s hand as Keoki nodded furiously with a wide toothy grin on his face. “Welcome, my friend,” he replied, “Come and meet everyone.”

As the young man turned to go, Brent asked him, “So, why Nauru? What’s so special about this place?”

Keoki stopped and was silent for a moment. Turning back to Brent with sadness in his face, he replied, “Because of my Dad. This was his home. He was investigating the virus that eventually killed him and everyone else. I want to continue his legacy and find out why only a few of us survived and I’m gathering everyone I can find so that we can re-build our world together again.”

Brent followed the young man to the crowd that was gathered for lunch. Keoki introduced Brent to them and they all welcomed him with enthusiasm.

A woman approached him from behind. “Brent? Is that you, Brent?” she exclaimed.

Brent turned to face her, his eyes nearly popping as he recognised her. “Gwen! How did you…? When did you…? How is this possible?” he stammered, shocked. “I thought I’d never find you. I’ve been looking for you since… since that day”.

“I came with my Dad to Hawaii after my mother succumbed to the illness,” explained Gwen. “Something to do with business, he told me at the time. But then it all went crazy there too and I was left all alone for a long time before Keoki found me and brought me here.”

They stood studying at each other for a moment, then Brent, full of emotion, embraced Gwen. After several minutes, he remembered the locket. “I got this for you, before everything went to pieces,” he said, opening his hand to reveal the golden heart-shaped locket. “This wasn’t how I planned it,” he said apologetically.

Gwen took the locket and looked up at his eyes. “It’s beautiful!” she said with her eyes filling with tears and a smile on her face. After fastening it around her neck, Brent kissed her long and hard, forgetting the crowd.

Everyone suddenly cheered and clapped. Keoki quietened them to make an announcement.

“Welcome, Brent. We survived! We will re-build together. And looking at you two, it won’t be long before we’ll repopulate the world again!” he smiled impishly.

Brent laughed. He couldn’t be happier.