We flew west for another thirty minutes or so. No one said much. I think the adrenalin was starting to wear off, and exhaustion was taking over.

The sun was almost completely below the horizon now. And it was already pretty dark thanks to the dust storm. The dust seemed to have thinned out a bit up in the mountain range. But back out on the western plains, heading directly for the Australian outback, it was thicker than ever.

Daniel said that we’d have to land before sunset because it would be too difficult to land in the dark. And it would be impossible to know if where we landed was safe. We needed to find a suitable location while we could still see.

“Where should we go?” he asked. “Any ideas?”

“I don’t know,” Kenji said. “I don’t really know this area at all. My only advice would be to avoid any towns.”

“Yeah. And major highways,” Jack added.

I didn’t say anything. I was too tired to think, too tired to speak.

“Well, I suppose we need water,” Maria said. “Maybe we should head for a river? The Murray-Darling river system flows through this area. It’s the biggest river system in Australia.”

“Is it fresh water?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Well, that’s a start.”

Daniel checked his GPS device. He found an isolated stretch of the river that was far away from any towns or population centers. But unfortunately we’d never make it there before sunset.

We’d have to set down for the night.

Daniel picked out a hill situated in an isolated area of farmland. It was in the middle of absolute nowhere. We landed without incident and prepared to spend the night in the chopper. We closed the cabin doors and made sure Daniel and Kenji slept right next to the machine guns in case they had to use them during the night. It seemed unlikely that anyone or anything would sneak up on us all the way out in the middle of nowhere, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

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What we didn’t plan on was that the hill we had chosen was at the top of a valley. And that the valley led down towards a rural town. We were still safe from the infected. But we could hear them. Even all the way out in the middle of the countryside. Their screaming howl was funneled up through the valley. The noise seemed to be amplified. Even with the cabin doors shut and all the windows shut we could still hear them. The screaming and the moaning and the howling travelled up the valley in the dead of the night and kept us awake. At one point I thought I could hear gunshots. But I couldn’t be sure. Maybe I was just hearing things. My imagination was running wild. Maybe there were survivors down there. Maybe they were trapped. Surrounded.

During the night, Daniel retrieved something from the storage compartment in the cockpit.

It was Doctor Hunter’s computer.

“You brought it with us?” I asked.

“Yeah, of course. It’s way too valuable to leave behind. There’s gotta be some information on here somewhere.”

We opened it up, eager to learn as much as we could about what was going on. Maybe we would find out if Kim was all right. Maybe there was something on there about the vaccine we’d heard Doctor West mention.

There were so many questions. And we were hungry for answers.

Daniel turned the computer on and Doctor Hunter’s email account appeared on the screen. My eyes read down the list of his latest emails, scanning the headings.

Test Subject Zero.

Nano-virus.

Mutations.

Outbreak.

Christmas Island Facility.

Tokyo Strain.

Nevada Facility.

All the emails had been sent in the last couple of days.

“Jesus, what the hell is all this?” Maria asked. “Mutations? What the hell is the Tokyo strain?”

“I don’t know,” Daniel replied.

“Click on Test Subject Zero,” Jack said. “I need to know if my sister is all right.”

Daniel clicked on the email and it opened immediately. It began to load more video attachments, more interviews but then the screen went blank. And the computer powered down. The battery had died.

Everyone deflated.

“Don’t worry,” Daniel said. “We can recharge it when we get back to my camp.”

But that was so far away, I thought. Thousands of miles. Who knew what stood between us and the camp. How the hell would we even get there? I did not feel like walking all that way. We’d never make it.

And besides, we hadn’t even discussed our plans yet. We hadn’t made any decisions. Even though the camp was the logical choice, I still thought we should talk about stuff like that as a group first, before we made any commitments.

I guess all that could wait ‘till tomorrow.

Right now there was nothing to do except sleep. But even in my state of exhaustion I was finding that difficult.

Daniel and Kenji took turns keeping watch during the night. Jack and Maria passed out pretty much straightaway. And not long after that Maria started snoring.

I was up in the co-pilot’s seat, pretending to sleep. But no matter how hard I tried, and no matter how many sheep I counted in my head, I couldn’t drift off. So I sat there in the dark. And I listened to the sounds of the infected as their screams were amplified and broadcasted over this lonely part of the countryside.