The Rule of Three

— 1 —

Jack gazed up at the stars, captivated by the serenity and majesty of the little pinpricks of light. As many times as he looked at the Milky Way, he never grew bored with it. He would spend hours searching out the constellations he knew, trying to name them.

Scorpius.

Canis Major.

The Southern Cross.

And a cluster of stars New Zealanders liked to call “The Pot”. Jack had been meaning to find out what its correct name was, but he’d never got around to it. Recently he had learnt about Pleiades, or what the Maori called Matariki, but he didn’t bother searching for that cluster of stars now. It only appeared from late May or early June.

He inhaled deeply, the fresh forest scents lacing the chill air. He loved it up here in the mountains, away from the rat race. As much as he loved technology, with its smartphones, flat screen TVs, computers, and all conceivable gadgets, all to make humanities wander through time easier, the wilderness was where he felt at peace, at home. Jack smirked. An eternal conflict.

When he thought about it, it was the silence he liked. That, and being able to see the galaxy spread across the night sky. In the wilderness, it was just him and nature. Nothing but the echoes of the stars. For three days he had enjoyed being off the grid. For three days he had let his mind wander. He had played out his favourite movie scenes in his head. Laughed. Cried at memories as he stepped one foot in front of the other. Through mud. Over tree roots. Often Jack had to duck under branches and squeeze through fallen trees. For kilometre after kilometre he had been at peace.

His wife, Dee, would often ask him why he liked to hike alone. The only answer he could ever come up with was: It’s like being a nomad again. Being one with yourself.

When he’d arrived at the hut earlier in the evening, he’d resisted the urge to make contact with Dee for as long as possible. He sighed and stretched out his knotted shoulders. He took one last look at the stars. Digging reluctantly into his pack, he pulled out his phone. It was time to reconnect and let her know he was okay.

Immediately after booting up, it alerted him to several messages. Looking at the screen, Jack saw that they were all from Dee, the first sent three days ago. He spent a few minutes scanning through them.

Jack frowned. He opened the last one.

He gasped. Really? A virus? Is this a joke?

Pushing the phone icon, he held his breath as the phone rang. It sounded distant and garbled. After what seemed like minutes, Dee answered.

“Jack? Thank God!” Without letting him answer, she continued, “Listen, it’s all over the news. They’ve closed all the airports, all the ports, everything is closing or closed down. You need to get home now, please, Jack. It’s horrible, it’s crazy, it’s…”

“Dee, slow down. What’s going on?”

“It’s some virus in the States. It started in Chicago. It’s already been reported in London, Paris, Sydney… everywhere!”

“Okay, so we go to the cabin and wait it out. We prepared for this.”

“It gets worse, Jack.”

“How?”

“There are rumours about it turning people into monsters.”

From the panic in Dee’s voice, Jack knew she was serious.

“Monsters? How?”

“Who knows. All I saw was blurry footage on the news. They want everyone to stay inside. Lock your doors.”

“What about Civil Defence?” Jack said, his eyes scrunching together. “What are they saying?”

“Same thing. Stay indoors. Wait.”

Jack pulled the phone away from his ear and looked out over the dark mountains.

Had they had finally done it? What so many people had imagined? Had they killed the world?

Whoever “they” were.

Was it true? Had the end of the world come? A virus outbreak? Monsters?

So many thoughts swam through his head. He loved movies, comics and sci fi. Jack had daydreamed about this sort of thing happening plenty of times. He had even convinced Dee to get an isolated cabin in the woods for this kind of eventuality.

But that was just a fantasy, right? This sort of thing doesn’t really happen, does it?

“Jack? Are you there? Babe!” Dee’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You have to come home. I need you.”

He looked at his phone, struggling to grasp what was happening. He took a couple of deep breaths, letting the air out of his lungs slowly. Finally, he held the phone back to his ear. “I don’t think the city will be safe for long. If the virus reaches New Zealand, it’ll turn bad, and fast. What about our cabin?”

“I think it’s already here. Th… There’ve been conflicting reports of it in Auckland.” Dee paused. Jack could just picture her running a hand through her hair as she sat on the couch, her legs tucked under her petite frame. “Come home, baby. We’ll pick up your mother and head to the cabin.”

“Okay. Good idea.” He was thinking fast now. “Call her and let her know what’s happening. Fill up as much water as possible into any available container, get our bug-out bags, and gather as much food as you can.” Jack smiled. “Dee?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Love you too, baby. Hurry!”

“Okay.” Jack’s phone crackled. “And lock up!” He spent a few seconds watching the reception bars on the screen, waiting for them to come back on, but they remained blank. After a moment, the ‘no signal’ icon flashed.

Jack pivoted and looked over to Mt Te Aroha. It was only four kilometres away and he could clearly see the tall communications tower that dominated the skyline. He should have perfect reception.

Grumbling to himself, Jack slipped the phone into his pocket.

Emptying out his pack, he found his headlamp. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the tension building, like a violinist playing strained and suspenseful music. He hurried over to fill his water bladder up at the basin, catching his reflection in the mirror as he did so. He ran a hand through his dark hair and couldn’t help but notice the worried look in his blue eyes.

Pack light, for we travel far and swift.

Glancing over his trail map one last time, he decided to take the shorter but steeper track down to the car park. This is going to be a tough hike, thought Jack as he slammed the hut door behind him.

Jogging down the trail, he thought back to the day he and Dee had met.

It was the height of summer. A hazy glare bounced off the trees in the valley, and Jack could see and smell the pollen coming off the poplar trees. Taking a breath, Jack heard two excited voices coming up the trail, the roar of the waterfall and the gurgling of the stream no match for the high-pitched excitement. Looking, he saw her for the first time. Petite, pixie-cut brown hair, bright blue eyes and a gorgeous smile. And when she turned towards him, he could see a tattoo of flowers creeping up her arm.

Jack turned away shyly, but still managed to smile at her.

Enjoying his lunch, he listened as the two girls took in the view, snapped photos and chatted. He was pleased when they sat close by to eat their lunch.

He was readying himself to leave when he felt the air change. “Do you know how far that trail goes?”

The voice was almost sing-song, its sweet tones music to his ears.

Jack looked in the direction Pixie-hair was pointing. “As far north as north goes.”

Pixie-hair laughed. “Isn’t it ‘as far south as south goes’?”

Jack smiled. “Yeah, but I know nothing.”

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Diana, but my friends call me Dee.”

Jack grinned, his cheeks hurting. “James, but everyone calls me Jack.”

It was hard going. Down, down, down. He hated down. His knee joints ground with every step. He could feel the lactic acid building. He gritted his teeth. He picked his way over the gnarled tree roots that twisted over the trail and dodged granite boulders. He hurried past evidence of the area’s gold mining past. Boilers and steam compressors rusting away in their steel frames. Other relics sat amongst the undergrowth, all but forgotten. Jack ignored it all. His focus was on Dee. On getting down from these mountains safely. As he jogged down the trail, he could hear the hoot of owls, the squawks of kakariki and the coos of wood pigeons as they searched for their meals. Normally he would stop and watch them, fascinated by their routine. Not tonight.

The trail finally flattened out as he came up to the swing bridge. Without even glancing at the view, Jack jogged on.

Only one more hour.

Those countless times he’d hiked this trail were really helping him in the darkness.

Forty minutes later he arrived at the car park. He fumbled for his keys as he ran up to his SUV. Finally getting them in hand, he unlocked the door, slung his backpack onto the passenger seat and jumped in. Jamming the key into the ignition, he started the engine, whacked it into gear and sped off, tyres spinning in the loose gravel.

I’m coming, darling. I’m nearly there.

With one hand on the wheel, he turned on his phone, tapped the phone icon and put it on speaker. Nothing but garbled sound emitted from it. Looking at the bars, Jack swore in frustration. “CRAP! SHITTY SHIT!”

He leant over and turned the volume up on the car stereo. A strange monotone beep filled the silence. Frowning, he scanned through all the FM stations. Nothing. His pulse quickening, Jack switched to AM, and heard an emergency broadcast. He listened to it a few times but got no actual details of the virus. It was just the announcer advising people to stay indoors. Jack ran a sweaty hand through his hair. Letting out a breath, he turned the radio off in frustration.