Unrelenting

The street was dark, and the air silent. Long shadows started to melt together. Jen peered round the corner and down the street. The melting shadows were cutting out the sunlight, making it difficult to see what was lying ahead. Regardless of how many times she travelled this road, Jen always checked. Especially at dusk. When things were more difficult to make out.

"Looks clear" she breathed. A huff of agreement greeted her. "Well, you have a look". Scotson took her spot and peered around the corner. His tongue-filled grin and wagging tail confirmed her analysis.

"That's what I thought" she grinned back at him. "Let's go, then".

Without a sound they slipped round the corner and vanished up the street. Jen was so grateful for her companion. Silent and alert, he had kept her safe from so many incidents. Without his hearing and smell she would have missed golden food opportunities and been caught far too many times for her to count. They padded softly up the street. It had been so long since anyone ventured to this part of town. She hadn't had an incident past Scott's St for, gosh, maybe 6 months, now. But habits die hard. Especially in these times. Brisbane hadn't been the same since the emergency. Thinking they were saving themselves everyone had pitched in to help and do their part. Little did they know the treachery stalking behind the scenes. And so they all willingly walked to their deaths. Small numbers started dying at first, then thousands. The worst week was 500 million deaths world wide. It was all down hill from there. Nothing could have prepared them for this. The bodies piling up in the streets. The starvation. The stench: bodies and garbage and bodies. That's not a smell you're likely to forget.

Jen had been alone during that time. In the poorer part of town, she knew she had to get out before lawlessness broke out. Not that it would be around for long. Millions were dying by the day. But the chaos was astounding. Ever hopeful, Jen had tried to form alliances and create a safety net around her neighbourhood. But people were either too stupid, scared, or brainwashed.

"It doesn't have to be every man for himself!", she'd yelled at one meeting, "to be safe you need numbers. We need to get along. We're all trying to do the same thing."

But one by one they'd left. That evening she grabbed the go bags and left. That journey had been the hardest to date. She'd learnt the hard way not to travel at night. And how invaluable Scotson was. She marvelled at his elemental understanding of the situation. After she had gotten over her confusion. He had acted towards her in a way she had never seen before. Wondering if she would have to abandon him or put him down, she acquiesced to his violent, barking commands at the last second. He'd then snuggled up to her and in her shock she faintly registered the sound of voices coming around the corner. Barely breathing she crouched lower and pushed herself as far into the wall as she could go. Willing herself to fade into it. For it to swallow her up. She'd waited a good 10 minutes after they had gone. Moving only when Scotson licked her leg and jolted her out of her terror. She cried and hugged him.

"I'm sorry!" she'd wept. "I'm a stupid human. Thank you." He just looked at her. She'd got up and on they had went. She wasn't even sure where she was going. Eventually they ended up at their current hide out. A mansion in the expensive part of town. Going where there were less people and securer houses. High fences. Cameras. Hills that gave views and lookout posts. She wondered why these homes were abandoned. They were the perfect safe place. Jen had always wanted her own pool, marble tiles and white-washed walls; just not at the end of civilization. After scoping the place out for a week to make sure it was abandoned (they’d hid in a bush; it had rained, they'd slept in the mud, been eaten by mozzies) they crept in. They didn't even sleep in the house the first night. They curled up in the dog shed. But eventually they ventured inside. So excited to finally be in a safe place they had eaten, showered, and Slept for 14 hours. Jen had wept from relief and exhaustion.

Scotson’s whine jolted her out of her reverie. Last check point before the house. Jen checked over her shoulder before whistling a tune. A voice greeted her in answer:

"Hands in the air, rock a-bye your bear. Bear's now asleep. Shh, shh, shh."

Jen ran to the back of the property and through the hole in the fence. Past the pool and up the back stairs.

"Mum!" squealed an excited voice. Poppy jumped up and down at the top of the stairs. Jen barrelled into her, scooping her up in a massive hug on the way inside. She closed and locked the back doors, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You were a long time!" said Poppy.

"I had to go further this time, sweetheart."

"Why?"

"It's getting harder to find things we need."

"Why?"

"Because other people get to them first."

"Why?"

Jen laughed and hugged her. Relieved her daughter was obviously OK after being by herself for so long. Not something Jen had decided to do lightly. The 3 times she tried to take Poppy with her they had almost been captured. It had been pure dumb luck they escaped. All three times. Jen wasn't stupid enough to tempt fate a fourth time. So Jen decided that teaching Poppy to look after herself at home was easier. And safer. For all of them. It had taken a good six months to get it right. Jen had marvelled at Poppy's instinct and ingenuity. She came up with solutions Jen hadn't thought of, and once you turned it into a game, even Jen half forgot their lives were at stake. Jen’s anxiety had skyrocketed the first few times she left Poppy during training. Yet every time she came back Poppy was playing the game exactly as she had to. Some times Poppy didn't want to play along, but the situation called for carrying on, regardless. Their first night apart was a disaster. Jen had restrained herself from running to Poppy's cries, but by 2am couldn't take any more. They slept in the same room for a month after that. And Jen adjusted the training to slowly reintroduce the night-time stuff. Scotson was a godsend, as usual. A master at calming Poppy and knowing when she needed to be pushed just that little bit more. He was Jen’s back-up plan. His little knapsack held all the things Poppy would need if something was to happen to Jen. Scotson knew where to go. Poppy knew she could trust him. It was the only contingency plan Jen had for Poppy, and she prayed hard every time she left that she wouldn’t need to implement it. There’d been fights and tantrums and tears. But for a four-year-old living through such a situation, Jen was so proud of her daughter.

"Ready to see what I got?"

"Yeah!" yelled Poppy, jumping up and down.

Jen unpacked her backpack. Food and supplies fell over the table.

"A Wiggles book!" shouted Poppy, "some colouring pencils. It’s a colouring book!"

Jen couldn't leave it behind. It might not be essential, but she wanted to give Poppy as much normality as she possibly could.

"And I got you something else."

She whistled to Scotson who trotted over. Out of his knapsack she pulled a tiny blue, velvet bag. She undid the drawstring, and lifted out a delicate gold chain with a heart-shaped locket. Poppy squealed, "I love it!"

"Now you have to remember I love you", said Jen as she put it on Poppy, "coz you can see it."

"Forever and ever", repeated Poppy, determined to do so.