Part one can be found here: Snow Angels – Pt. 1
The red Mini bounced and rocked as they hurtled down the dirt track; red clay earth splattering the side of the car.
‘Fucking Mini, why the fuck did you get a Mini?’ he screamed in a rhetorical outburst. He’d told her that a Mini was an idiotic choice for Australia. Parts were a nightmare; the petrol tank was tiny and the suspension couldn’t cope with the dirt tracks which webbed across the outback.
The last town had been nearly 2 hours back and the gauge was running on red. The orange horizon ahead got closer, and the smoke got denser. He could barely see the road anymore, but it still felt safer than what they’d come from.
They burst through the smoke into an ashen and desolate landscape. The trees and shrubs had been scorched into annihilation. There was nothing moving on the ground or in the air. The red dirt was covered in the ash of a fire that has swept as far as they could see.
In this wasteland there was nothing for the plague victims to feast on, no humans, no wildlife. They’d wither and die with nothing to sustain them. Like any other physical being They drove for hours into the twisted fairytale world, where ash has replaced the beauty of snow, where the tranquility of Narnia had its foundation in destruction.
The car spluttered to a stop and they were stranded, ‘we can’t stay here’ Cormac said, walking around to the passenger door, he held it open for Florence. She looked up at him, then took his hand and they began walking.
Since they’d filled the tank the road had been covered with ash, the only markers for its existence had been the slight depression where it had sunken slightly more in the gutter. Cormac kicked up clouds of white and Florence giggled. It had been her first reaction since she entered the unit, so he kicked up more sending her into fits of laughter until the began to chock on the ash.
They wandered on until the sun set, walking in the pitch black through the darkness, shouting into the night. Cormac made them sleep for a while, fitful moments of unconsciousness, interrupted by dreams full of gnashing of teeth and bloodshot eyes. At daybreak they finished their water bottle and ate the last of their food.
Through that day the temperature soared, and they staggered on, knowing forward was their only hope. Then Florence lay down on her back, stretched out her arms and legs, then swept them over the surface of the ash. Cormac smiled, got down beside her and together they made snow angels in the ash.
Cormac woke with a masked man looking down at him, he jumped up and looked for Florence who was standing behind a group just behind the man. In his hands was a flamethrower, a little flame dancing near the nozzle. They’d found it or been found – Salvation was here.