Dusk was on them by the time they finished and the temperature was dropping.
‘Hungry?’ Gemma said, crouching down beside their shelter and opening her bag.
‘Starving. Got any marshmallows in there? I reckon I could build a fire.’
Gemma doubted that, although the thought of a fire was appealing. ‘Sorry, no. I could do a can of creamed rice?’
Alex’s face lit up. ‘Yum. My Mum makes a mean creamed rice pudding. She puts sultanas and cinnamon and stuff in it, it’s awesome.’
‘Well this is just a can,’ Gemma said. ‘Chocolate flavoured and it’s cold. Sorry.’
She handed him the can with a spoon.
‘What’re you having?’ Alex sat cross-legged beside her and ripped the top off the can.
Gemma peered at the bar in her hand. ‘Chocolate fudge protein bar,’ she said. ‘Probably tastes like arse.’
Alex snorted into his mouthful of rice and chuckled. ‘Tastes like arse…’
They ate in silence, each lost in their thoughts as they processed the day they’d just experienced. Gemma wondered for the millionth time what was happening home. Were Mark and Archie safe? Her parents?
From what she’d seen so far, things were turning to shit fast. It surprised her how quickly people had gone feral. Big Nick in the car park at work, the people at the train station. Such behaviour was not normal, but she knew it was not far from the surface for some people.
Being married to a cop for so long had given her many insights into human nature. When normal people discussed their day at work, they talked about meeting deadlines, or the copier breaking down, or restructures.
Mark’s work discussions revolved around dead bodies, violence and abuse, and the dregs of society. Lives destroyed by soulless beings who cared for nothing but themselves. Brazen acts of violence or theft by thugs who saw it all as theirs for the taking. He was constantly on the lookout, watching people around them, paranoid about the safety of his family, looking for the ulterior motives behind everything.
All of this had rubbed off on Gemma, who was exposed to it for so long that inevitably some of his habits became hers. She always found herself less trusting than her friends and colleagues, more conscious of her personal security. She was aware that it sometimes took the shine off things, but in other ways it paid dividends. She was always the one who parked in well-lit areas, never walked alone at night, and automatically assessed every person she met.
Perhaps with things the way they were such an approach would keep her safe.
Gemma stuck the empty wrapper in her bag and dug out a headlamp. She handed Alex the spare torch from the car.
‘I’m going to the toilet.’ She pointed behind the shelter. ‘That way. I’ll be back in a minute.’ The message in her voice was clear.
‘Sure thing.’ He nodded. ‘I’ll guard the castle.’
Peeing behind a bush was not a new experience, but today it felt different. Everything felt different. By the time Gemma was back at the shelter Alex had got himself ready. He’d put on his hoody and folded his bag into a makeshift pillow and sat with his knees up, like a kid waiting for instructions.
Gemma took a silver emergency blanket and a thin nylon poncho from her bag, and handed them to him. ‘Here, try and keep warm.’
He took them without protest, and watched as she pulled on her thermal top, rain jacket and beanie. She unfolded the ugly car seat blanket.
‘Are you always like this?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Ready for bed early?’
‘No…prepared. Calm.’
Gemma surprised herself by laughing. ‘Calm? I’m not calm, Alex, I’m just trying to get home.’
‘Well you’re a lot calmer than I am right now.’
She paused and looked at him. The torchlight threw long shadows around them. ‘Hey, we’ll be fine. We just need to stick together and watch each other’s backs, like we did today. You did good with that guy at the train station; he would’ve got my bag if you hadn’t been there.’
‘You punched him in the nuts.’
‘True, but if I’d been on my own I’d have been in real trouble with him. Stop doubting yourself.’
She crawled into the shelter and arranged the blanket. Alex waited for her to get organised before he followed suit.
‘You put your head that end,’ Gemma told him, ‘and I’ll go this end.’
She lay on half of the blanket and pulled the other half over her, resting her head on her bag. It was far from comfortable but at least they were sheltered from any wind and rain, and were as warm as she could hope for.
The darkness was complete once the lights were off, the kind of complete darkness you only got in the wild. It was hard to believe they were still in the city.
Gemma closed her eyes and took deep breaths. There were many things that were hard to believe today.
Twenty-Five
The first I knew of visitors was the sound of feet crunching on the gravel driveway.
I sat up with a jolt, unaware that I had even fallen asleep. The Rossi was across my lap and in seconds I was standing to the side of the ranch slider, the rifle in my hands. The moon was hiding behind a cloud so it was almost pitch-black outside, only the stars above giving some slight illumination. Jethro had padded into the lounge from his usual sleeping spot outside Archie’s door, and stood beside me, a low growl in his throat.
It took a few more seconds to get my bearings but when I did, I saw them.
Two dark figures were standing at the top of the drive, looking towards the house. Either scoping or waiting; it didn’t matter which, the bastards were on my property and that was a situation that needed to change.
I backed carefully away from the doors, confident that they couldn’t see me unless they had night vision goggles. I moved through the house, pausing at the hallway to listen. Nothing.
‘Jethro, stay,’ I whispered. I didn’t want to be tripping over him in the dark. He didn’t like it, but he stayed guard inside the house.
The back door opened silently and I padded along the side of the house to the turning area. The night air was cool on my skin and I could hear stealthy footsteps coming my way. Stealthy, that is, aside from the crunch of gravel.
I waited silently, my mouth half open so I could hear better. The footsteps stopped a few metres away, followed by a whispered conversation. The problem with whispering when you want to be covert is that it sounds unnatural, so you’re better off talking in low tones. Whispers are squeaky and audible.
I could easily hear these two clowns, and both sounded like uneducated thugs.
‘Check the door, bro.’
‘Ow, gimme the torch, I can’t see.’
‘Don’t turn it on G, someone’ll see it.’
There was a flicker of light around the corner of the house.
‘Ow fuck G, what’re you doing?’
‘I can’t see, bro. It’s too dark.’
‘Fuck bro, you’re a egg. Turn it off or I’ll fuckin’ slap you, G.’
I had heard enough. These weren’t lost travellers looking for help. In one swift move I stepped around the corner of the house, lighting them up with the LED torch duct-taped under the barrel.
They both reeled back, trying to block the blinding light with their arms. A pair of scruffy Maori boys, late teens, one with a gang bandanna hanging from the waist of his low-slung jeans. The one holding their torch dropped it in fright and let out a squeal.
‘Get your fuckin’ hands up,’ I snarled. Four hands shot skywards and they automatically dropped their heads away from the light.
‘Ow, turn it off bro,’ one of them whined. ‘I can’t see.’
‘You could see well enough to come on my property and try to break in,’ I said. ‘So you can see well enough to get the fuck off it again.’
‘We weren’t even breaking in, G,’ the other one said. ‘We’re looking for our uncle’s place.’
‘Bullshit. Turn around and get walking.’
The mouthier one started to lower his hands, trying to look defiant.
‘Or what?’ His tone was challenging.
There was a round in the chamber but I levered the action anyway, popping out the unused round. There’s nothing more intimidating than the clack-clack of a gun being racked.
‘Or I’ll blow your fuckin’ arse away,’ I told him, ‘and no one will bat an eye.’
The second guy had jumped with fright and put his hands out, as if they were going to stop a load of lead.
‘Don’t shoot,’ he was whining, ‘ow mister, don’t shoot! I ain’t even got a gun!’
The leader was the stauncher of the two, but he started to back up. They began to move back towards the driveway and I stayed several metres away, wary of being jumped. I had made my mind up; if they had a crack, I would drop them.
We got to the drive and I herded them down, the torch lighting the way. I could hear the animals in the paddocks, probably disturbed by the unexpected activity at night. The two boys kept walking, the leader gradually lowering his hands as he went.
‘Keep your hands up, shithead.’
‘Ow, you all tough coz you got a gun eh.’ He made a scoffing sound. ‘What a fuckin’ egg, G.’
‘Hey boy.’
He turned around and I hooked him in the face with a good left. He staggered back, putting a hand to his face and cursing. I trained the Rossi back on his chest, the torch blinding him.
‘I’m not tough because I’ve got a gun,’ I said. ‘And I’m not your G, dickhead. Keep walking.’
I followed them to the end of the drive and out to the road. The road was empty.
‘How’d you get here?’
‘Up around the corner,’ the second guy said. ‘Got a car.’
‘Go.’
They moved off again, both with their hands in the air. We reached the next road and I saw an old Subaru with primer paint on one door half off the road.
‘Stop there.’ They stopped and half turned towards me. I kept the gun up. ‘You pricks get something in your head. Things are turning to shit right now, and you think that means you’ve got free reign to go thieving and do what the fuck you want, right?’
Neither of them said anything. I took their silence as agreement.
‘What it really means is that people have to look after their own shit. So take me. I’m a normal dude. I don’t go looking for trouble. But if trouble comes looking for me?’ I let out a low whistle. ‘By Jesus, trouble better be ready for a scrap, because I am.’
I let that sink in for a moment.
‘How many eyes do you think are on you right now?’
The second guy gave a small shrug; I could tell he was listening properly.
‘Trust me, I’m not alone here. And the others around here? None of them will give a fuck if I blow you away right now. So this is your one and only chance; get the fuck outta here and don’t come back. If I see you back here again then it’s open season. Understand?’
The second guy nodded his agreement. The leader stayed staunch, but nodded anyway.
‘Where are you boys from?’
‘Meremere,’ the second guy said without hesitation.
I knew the place. Further south, off State Highway One, it was a shit-box town with plenty of state housing and fuck-all going for it. Thieves from Meremere were transient between there and south Auckland, and it had a strong gang element. It didn’t surprise me that they were already taking advantage of the situation.
‘You got five seconds,’ I told them. ‘If you’re still here then I’ll start shooting.’
They started edging away.
‘Go!’
They ran for the car. It took longer than five seconds but they took off with a wheel spin and a spray of dirt and gravel, and I stayed where I was until I could no longer hear the car.
I killed the torch and stood in the silence, catching my breath. I could feel sweat on my back and under my arms. I hated gangsters and I hated the fact they had violated our property.
I was happy that they had gone, but the question was, would they return?
Twenty-Six
Dawn was finally breaking when Gemma prodded Alex’s shoulder. He stirred, scrunched up like a child, and kept his eyes shut.
‘Alex, time to get up.’
When he finally opened his eyes he saw her kneeling beside him. She was fully dressed and her bag was strapped closed, ready to go.
‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered, rolling over gingerly and yawning. ‘Did you even go to sleep?’
‘Barely. Maybe an hour or two all up.’
She didn’t want to tell him that while he was snoring away she had stirred at every noise, every change in temperature, every minute movement in the air. Her body ached from the exertions of the day before and from the cold, hard ground. She was hungry and thirsty and felt like she’d been hit by a bus.
While Alex fluffed about getting himself ready she took down the bivvy and folded the tarps. To free herself from carrying a bag in her hand, she used a bungy to secure the rolled tarps to her day pack. She folded the two blankets and put them with the torch and rope beside Alex’s bag, letting him know he could carry them today.
She rinsed her mouth out and drank some more water. She had started yesterday with three 500mL bottles, and two were now empty. She would need to find a water source today and refill to avoid dehydrating. The food supplies were also nearly gone. She knew a person could last three days without water and three weeks without food, but she had no plans to test that theory.
Gemma left Alex to sort out his own gear while she stretched her legs and walked around, trying to ease some of the stiffness that had set in overnight. She could hear the sheep in the paddock some distance away, and smelt smoke in the air. She could hear Alex urinating on leaves behind a tree, sighing to himself. She guessed he wasn’t a morning person.
She rolled her shoulders, hearing a crack in her neck, wondering what Mark and Archie were doing. Hopefully they were safely asleep and not stressing about her, although she knew they would be.
She would give anything to cuddle her little boy right now. She felt her eyes prickling as she thought about him; she knew he would be missing her, even though he was in safe hands with Mark.
She swallowed hard, determined to hold her composure. She had cried enough in the night; no need to continue now when she needed to focus.
‘We need to get home,’ she said, turning to Alex.
He was putting his day pack on and nodded. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Here.’ She held out half a Snickers bar to him. ‘Don’t forget your breakfast.’
He gave a wry smile and took it. ‘Thanks.’
They set off with Gemma in the lead, the grey dawn giving enough light to make their way back to the road and follow that through the park. She noticed that some of the vehicles parked up had fogged windows, a sure sign that people had bunked there for the night. She wondered if any of them were equipped in any way for such an outing.
She saw a young couple moving around beside a campervan decked out with hire company signage and a flag that she didn’t recognise. She caught a sweet, pungent smell in the air and saw the guy puffing on a small pipe. They both looked warily at her and Alex as they passed nearby. She gave them a short nod and kept walking.
The trees were dropping their leaves and the park was a blaze of colour. Autumn was definitely here. Archie loved playing in the leaves, rolling around and throwing them in the air with the carefree abandonment of the young. Just the thought of it gave Gemma a spur to keep going.
Passing the large gas barbecues in the picnic area, Gemma noticed a drink fountain and they stopped to refill their bottles. She took a long drink herself and washed her face, the cold water shocking her skin into life. She waited while Alex did the same, keeping watch for any unwanted visitors.
They walked in silence to the edge of the park and took a path between houses out to the street. What was normally a busy thorou
ghfare at any time of the day was almost empty. There were cars parked outside some of the houses, and there was a taxi van smashed into the side of a sedan in the middle of an intersection further along. Broken glass was scattered around the collision site and a random single sneaker lay nearby.
Gemma took stock of their surroundings, realising after a few moments that despite the apparent quiet of the neighbourhood, people were in fact up and about. Lights glowed in some windows and she saw the odd person moving around their property. A siren yelped somewhere in the distance.
She didn’t need to check the map just yet – the short-term aim was to head south towards Manukau. The most direct route would be to cross the Manukau Harbour from Onehunga to Mangere Bridge, which would carry them on through Otahuhu and Papatoetoe. She knew they were high crime areas and wanted to avoid them if possible.
The slightly longer but probably less risky option was to cut east towards the motorway. Beyond that was Ellerslie, Mount Wellington and Otara. From there they could drop straight down into Manukau where Alex would hopefully make it home.
They had discussed it briefly last night and tried to work out a plan of attack, but Alex didn’t have a strong opinion either way and seemed happy for Gemma to make the decisions. At least that gave her some freedom but she wasn’t entirely happy with carrying all the responsibility either. This was more Mark’s thing than hers; she had the feeling he would’ve been in his element, planning then executing their escape from the city.
Gemma wasn’t sure that she was the right person for this situation, but she did know that right now the best thing they could do was to keep moving. Every step they took was one step closer to home. With that in mind, she broke from the cover of the walkway and crossed the street. Alex trotted behind her and she gave him an encouraging smile when he joined her on the footpath.
‘You okay?’ she said.
He nodded and hitched his bag on his shoulders. He looked cold and tired and unhappy. Gemma gave him another smile, hoping to boost his spirits; she didn’t have the time or energy to babysit him if he was going to be a sad sack.
Early Warning (Book 1): Martial Law Page 10