And All the Stars (7 page)

"Maybe," Madeleine said, unable to not smile a
little.

"Cheerful, compact and zippy?" Noi asked, tucking
the food box in the boot. "Is that
what you're trying to tell me?"

"Fuel-efficient, can go for hours," Gav responded,
blush competing with an ever-widening grin. But that faded to solemn consideration. "Want me to come back for you two? We're getting pretty well organised, and we've sworn off re-enacting
Lord of the Flies
. You can even have an exemption to the uniform
rules."

"I'm waiting for my cousin," Madeleine said, and
was horrified to find tears suddenly pricking her eyes. "He was – I should wait a couple more
days."

"I'll stick with Madeleine," Noi said immediately. "It'll give me a chance to go through
the kitchens here."

"Exchange numbers," Fisher ordered, sitting
sideways on one of the front seats.

"And call us without delay if there is a need,"
Nash added, his candy-cream voice rich with concern and reassurance.

It took only a few moments to bump phones and contact-pass
numbers, Twitter handles, email addresses. Pan added a quick explanation of their school's location, perhaps
fifteen minutes away by foot.

"All right now?" Noi asked, waving as Gav pulled
his apple-green chick magnet away from the curb.

"Yeah. Sorry – I
really hero-worshipped my cousin when I was a kid, and I...just wish I
knew."

Noi was silent and, aware of inadvertently prodding a wound,
Madeleine turned and surveyed the long building jutting out into the bay. She wasn't quite sure why Noi had stayed with
her, and, as usual, she had an overwhelming desire to find some space to
herself and draw. But Noi and her
reasons for being there brought forth a competing impulse.

"How many apartments are there on this wharf?"

"Not a clue. A
few hundred, I guess."

"If around a quarter of that school survived, there must
be other people here. Probably Greens
who can't get about yet."

"Probably."

"Is there some kind of security office which would have
keys?"

The shorter girl stared at the enormity of the wharf, then
let out her breath and resurrected her wry smile. "Never pictured myself as a ministering
angel. But I'm game if you are."

"Last thing I want to do," Madeleine said. "We'd better get started."

"Science Boy must live on this site," Noi said, as
Madeleine fumbled with keys. The girl
waved the tablet computer she'd brought along. "No wonder he fell down – no sleep."

"Did you find what's the best thing for Greens?"

"I found a big argument over it." Noi fell silent as Madeleine slotted one of
the master keys into the lock and turned. The door opened an inch, then caught on a chain as sound spilled out: a
television, the now-familiar voice of an Australian Broadcasting Corporation
presenter based in Canberra. And a
smell.

"Should we knock again?"

"Not if you want to get through this entire building
this century. Watch out." After the Building Manager's office, they'd
taken a side-trip to a maintenance room in the garage for, as Noi put it, a
Ministering Angel Toolkit. This included
an upright, three-shelf trolley they'd stacked with food, and a red and black
pair of bolt cutters, which nipped through the chain effortlessly.

Madeleine pushed the door open, but neither of them made any
move. The full impact of the smell was
enough to guess what was inside.

"We're going to have to check," Noi said. "If we're doing this properly."

Before Madeleine could say anything the girl lifted her chin
and walked into the apartment. Madeleine
followed, calling out "Hello?" in case the smell hadn't told the
whole story.

Two people were on the couch, sitting snugged together
beneath a blanket, one man's head resting on the other's shoulder. They looked to have been in their fifties or sixties,
and Madeleine could almost think them peacefully asleep if not for the waxy
pallor, and the single fly which had found its way into the apartment, to spin
joyfully in the corner of the smaller man's mouth.

Gulping, and then trying not to breathe, Madeleine looked
away and found Noi opening the nearest door.

"Look in all the rooms, check the hot plates, turn off
any running water, the TV, then out," the girl said, with a fixed
determination.

"Hot plates?"

"Kitchen rules," Noi replied, shrugging. "But it's worth thinking fire
prevention."

Madeleine moved to obey, finding no active hot plates, no
running water, and no visible way to turn the television off. The remote was probably somewhere on the
couch, and she felt bizarrely that it would be impolite to go hunting for it,
disrespectful to disturb the dead. And
she didn't want to touch. But Noi
spotted a discreet cord, a wall switch, and was reaching for that when Madeleine
said:

"Wait."

The TV showed a van crammed full of people and personal belongings
driving toward a roadblock. The thin hum
of the engine dropped, then picked up again. Then a tinkle, breaking glass, and the van screeched to a stop. Little chopped-off noises followed as it
hastily reversed, turned, and accelerated away, one headlight punched out.

"Where is that?" Madeleine asked. "That's not here, is it?"

"That's everywhere," Noi flicked the power
switch. "Come on."

Madeleine wanted to protest that Australians wouldn't do
that, but couldn't. She followed Noi out
and closed the door as the shorter girl wrote "D2" on a diagram she'd
found in the building manager's office.

"I guess so long as we stay in the city centre we won't
have to worry about that," Madeleine. "Everyone here would have to already be infected. Teaming up with that school is probably still
a good idea, though."

"No, I'm glad you said no to that. Here." Noi picked up the tablet computer and passed it to Madeleine, then began
pushing their trolley toward the next door.

The tablet was displaying a very recent post on the
BlueGreen
site titled "Blues
dangerous?" It was a summary of
stories of Blues hurting people, with repeats of the surge, or jolts of
'invisible lightning'. And two
incidents, one in Singapore, the other in Norway, of Green survivors, thought to
be recovering, who had been found dead after coming into contact with a Blue.

"I'd rather give it a few days," Noi said, as she
rapped on the new door. "See what
happens."

Madeleine read through the article in silence, then fumbled
for the keys, painfully conscious of the patch of midnight and stars below her
left eye, of the whole of her body feeling like velvet beneath the concealing
dress. There was a lot still to learn
about being Blue.

ooOoo

The apartments at Finger Wharf were grouped into two long
parallel buildings, joined by a connecting roof over a massive central
throughway where modern metal and glass sat strangely mixed with wooden
walkways and arching old-fashioned conveyer belts preserved as
decorations. There was a hotel nearest
the street, and a smaller separate building enjoying the prime views at the
northern end. Three hundred apartments,
a hundred hotel rooms. Noi and Madeleine
rapped on doors until their knuckles were sore, and then they used the blunt
end of the keys, their shouts hello becoming cursory as they toured through
death.

Most of the world – or at least this portion of Sydney – had
died curled up on the couch, watching television. These were much easier to deal with than the
handful who, like Madeleine, had ended up in their showers, finding some
comfort from the pelting water. They
were usually at least partially naked, the marbling of flesh and the beginnings
of bloat difficult not to look at when reaching to shut off the water. The splashing left Madeleine feeling
contaminated.

In one apartment the windows and door were so effectively
sealed with tape and plastic that Madeleine swore she could hear the room
inhale when they broke through. She had
to wonder whether it was the stain or suffocation which had killed the small
family inside. In a different apartment
there were nearly a dozen people, with empty bottles – champagne, beer –
everywhere, and a partially-eaten sheet cake where someone had roughly scrubbed
off 'Birthday', and spelled out 'Apocalypse' with shining silver cachous.

Death had not come all at once. Most Blues had died quickly, but many of the
Greens had obviously lingered over the past three days, so the sick-sweet aroma
of rot was not always present, though there were often other smells. Bowels relaxed in death. A couple of times pungent incense made their
eyes sting. In one bedroom scented
candles still burned, set all around three little beds and three tiny occupants
tucked up with toys, and favourite books. Noi and Madeleine blew out the candles, and found the mother in a
bathtub of blood.

Out in the hall, Noi marked off the apartment, then slumped
to the ground, and Madeleine joined her, shuddering.

"How long ago do you think she did that?" she asked
the shorter girl. "An hour? Two? If we'd started at the other end of the building we could have saved
her."

"Or just delayed her."

Madeleine hunched her shoulders, then pulled off her sandals
and massaged her arches. Velvet against
velvet. Over two hours, and so much more
left.

"I thought we'd find more people. How can they have had one in five come
through at that boarding school, while in forty apartments we were too late for
the sole survivor?"

"One in five healthy teenagers with Science Boy playing
head nurse," Noi pointed out. "We're trying to Nightingale the wrong demographic."

"Do you want to go on?"

With a sigh, Noi nodded. "Yeah. I'd obsess about it
if we stopped now. About things like
that family, except with one of the kids still alive instead. But eat something – don't let the hunger
catch up."

They snacked on some of the nuts and dried fruit they'd
brought along to offer to survivors, and Madeleine browsed
BlueGreen
while Noi sent some texts. There was an
entire section devoted to Rushcutters Bay Grammar, one of a half-dozen 'major
studies' cobbled together by whoever happened to have access to a large number
of infected people.

"Looks like we're not being very original," Noi
said, and held up her phone to show a Twitter feed for #
checkyourneighbors
.

Madeleine could wish for fewer neighbours, but nodded and
stood up. "My cousin's apartment's
the last on this row. We can put me down
as a survivor."

"One less door to thump on, anyway."

There was a merciful run of empty apartments, and they moved
on to the next level up.

"
Who is it?
"

The words had a horror movie quality, the barely audible
sound sending Madeleine flinching backward, the keys she'd been lifting to the
lock jangling.

"Hello!" Noi called out, with only a suggestion of
a gulp. "We're checking for
sur
– for anyone who needs help. We have some food and bottled water, or we
can bring milk if you want it."

"
I don't need anything.
"

It was a woman, her voice hoarse, frantic. Madeleine and Noi exchanged worried glances.

"We can leave some things out here for you, if you'd
like," Madeleine offered. "You
don't have to open the door while we're here."

"Go
away
."

"All right. Sorry
for – uh, we'll be in apartment 222 later, if you, um..." Madeleine trailed off as a thump made the
door shake, as if the woman had hit it. "We're going now."

Noi hurriedly pushed the trolley down the walkway to the next
door, then clutched Madeleine's arm.

"I don't know whether to laugh or scream," she
whispered. "What the hell?"

"Maybe she somehow managed to avoid the stain. Of course she wouldn't want to open the
door."

"She could have just said that." But Noi shrugged off her annoyance. "I guess we can at least chalk up
another survivor."

"We still don't know everything that the dust does to
people. She could be something new,
changed in other ways."

"Don't say that after you told her your apartment
number. Let's get on – I'm wanting some
distance."

Madeleine rapped at the new door, far less casually, and
called for longer than had become habit, before making a quick, nervous sortie
and heading for the next apartment.

"
Wait.
"

The strained voice was worse for being louder, sharper, and
it was impossible not to jump, Noi even letting out a tiny, cut-off shriek as
they spun in unison to see the previous door had opened, though there was no
sign of a person.

"
Take him away.
"

The faintest suggestion of movement followed, then nothing.

"I am freaking the shit out right now," Noi said,
under her voice. "Are you freaking
the shit out?"

"I'm...really looking for an excuse not to go in
there," Madeleine said.

They approached the door like nervous horses, ready to shy at
a moment's notice. Madeleine moved to
peer around the corner, changed her mind and backed to the limit of the
walkway, against the railing, so she wouldn't be in reach of anything which
might be just inside the door.

"Can't see anyone," Noi murmured, craning for a
look down an airy, white hall. She
hefted the bolt cutters, adding: "It's going to turn out to be some scared
little old lady and I'm going to look like the bad guy waving these around, and
yet..."

"Let's get this over with."

Madeleine picked up a bottle of water, on the theory that it
might make a distracting projectile, and followed Noi in. One of the smaller apartments, very neat and
tidy, with the windows wide open, sheer curtains rippling. No-one in sight. Two doors shut, one open. Competing scents: pine, and rot.