fbpx

TP18-Tank-St

Once Again (Tank Street)

You stand before the bridge. On your left is a building with a bulldozer-like façade.

You see yourself in the glass reflection of the building. Are you really that green? Your eyes are bloodshot, grey and lifeless. You have a sinking feeling that Mary’s scratch means you were doomed from the start…that the little girl was infected.

You look around. You’re alone. Your ankle aches, and your eyes blur over, but you’re feeling okay. Really. You’re feeling as if you could do just about anything.

With super human, stumbling strength, you limp down North Quarter Lane and have a desperate inclination to scale the façade. You’re reminded of the zombies who hung like human flags off the Landline artwork in Albert Street.

Could you do the same?

You approach the building façade, leap into the air, and feel the cold steel under your fingers. Whoa! You have made the first step. You stand on the slippery slope of the yellow awnings, and reach up for the next. Another leap, and you’ve made it. Now you’re in form.

Six awnings up, and you can see the view of Kurilpa Bridge. So many people crammed on the bridge, pressing into each other, screaming, trying to find their way to either end.

You let out a moan, something deep from inside your chest. Your thoughts are slowing down. All you can connect with are your body’s cravings for food.

You see a small figure approaching the bridge below. She’s staggering, limping.

Mary.

And then you realise what you have become: a zombie. And the people on the bridge are your only chance for survival if you want to live as the dead.

You gotta eat ‘em all.

 END