by Mark Smith
‘We’ll wait out the afternoon here,’ Sarisi says, directing us into the shade of a cypress hedge that’s lost its shape. Branches fork out at odd angles and dry needles blanket the ground. Ash passes around a water bottle. There’s a thick layer of sediment in the bottom but we’re so thirsty we hardly care.
I look back the way we’ve come. All day I’ve had the feeling we’re being followed—something in the way the shadows move, like there’s someone watching, just out of sight. It makes me nervous.
‘What are you looking for?’ Ash asks.
‘Dunno. I keep thinking someone’s following us.’
‘You’re paranoid,’ he says, peering into the dust swirling in the wind. ‘There’s nothing out there.’
Willow sits with JT and me. Her face above her mask is black with dirt and her hair stands out like a scarecrow’s. She runs a finger along her bowstring and rests a hand on the bunched arrows by her side.
Each of us finds a spot to lie under the hedge. Willow crawls in next to me. I can’t remember when I last slept and even though I’m shit-scared now that we’re inside the fence, I drop into an exhausted sleep.
Again, I dream of Kas. I’m trying to run towards her across a stony field, but my bare feet are bloody and bruised. Just as I get close enough to touch her, Tusker appears and pulls her out of reach, his hands all over her, his mouth at her neck, kissing her. I wake with a start, hot and sweating.
It takes me a few seconds to get my bearings again, but the image of Kas being dragged away stays with me.
I’ve slept longer than I thought—it’s late afternoon. Without thinking, I walk to the other side of the hedge to take a piss. Above the wind, I hear a whirring sound, and a drone appears, heading straight for me. I dive for cover but it comes in low and hovers directly above me. Something fizzes past my shoulder, followed by the sound of metal hitting metal.
Willow has shot the drone with an arrow!
It spins in circles tilting wildly as it tries to right itself, but Willow has reloaded, and she’s hit it again. This arrow catches one of the propellers and the drone crashes to the ground. Sarisi hits it with a tree branch, breaking it into half a dozen pieces.
We stand above the mangled wreck. A tiny green light on the underbelly flashes then dies. We look at each other, trying to figure out the consequences of what we’ve done.
‘Would they have seen us?’ I ask.
‘Probably,’ Ash says. ‘I don’t know whether they record data or they transmit live. It looks pretty old-school, like it’s been patched together.’
‘Whatever,’ Sarisi says, ‘we’ll have to take a chance on getting down to the river in daylight.’
Willow has been standing off to the side. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says.
Sarisi smiles. ‘It’d already spotted Finn. You did the right thing.’
Willow stands a little taller. She retrieves the two arrows. One is snapped in half but the other one is fine.
There’s more urgency as Sarisi leads us through the paddock towards the river. We get some cover from the trellises strung with tomato plants, but they’ve already been stripped of their fruit and the leaves are starting to die off. Once we make it to the broad beans, we’re completely hidden. JT nudges me and points to the thick pods hanging off the plants around us. We start picking, grabbing handfuls, splitting the casings to find the fat, green beans inside. We haven’t eaten all day and we push handfuls into our mouths. The outer skin is bitter but the centre is sweet. We move along the rows on our hands and knees, picking madly and filling our pockets.
Ash goes ahead to check the best way to the water. The sun is beginning to drop in the west. It struggles to penetrate the dust lifting off the plains and everything around us is lit in an amber glow.
Ash returns with a worried look on his face.
‘What is it?’ Sarisi asks.
Ash signals us to move to the end of the row. He points. Five soldiers are clearly visible on the hill, standing above the remains of the drone. They disappear behind the hedge for a minute, then reappear, moving in slow, deliberate circles, checking the ground for tracks.
Sarisi leads us quickly back into the beans where we push through row after row, until the ground begins to drop towards the river. There’s a ten-metre gap between the last row and the red gums lining the bank. We sprint across and throw ourselves down the slope into the reeds. Our ankles sink in the mud, but we push out further until we’re wading in the shallows. The water is cool against our parched skin and I wet my hair and bunch it in my hands to pull it away from my face. Willow sinks chest-deep, and JT reaches a hand to her. She grabs hold and the two of them edge along parallel to the bank.
We can hear voices now. The soldiers have tracked us to the vegetable plots. Sarisi is beside us. She puts her fingers to her lips and passes us lengths of hollow reed she’s broken off. She puts one in her mouth, holds her nose and sinks below the surface.
Willow looks at me, her eyes flashing left and right, and I nod to reassure her. We can do this, I mouth. I loop my arm through hers, put the reed between my teeth and lower myself under the water.
I start by holding my breath but eventually I test the reed. It works. Willow is fretting next to me, pulling at my arm. I resurface and find her gasping for air. The voices are closer now and heavy boots crash along the bank. Willow is panicking, her breath coming in ragged bursts. I take her by the shoulders and force her to look at me. I put the reed back in her mouth and get her to breathe through it before we go under again. She’s still holding me but her grip is more relaxed.
I don’t know how long we stay like this. I resurface every couple of minutes to listen for the soldiers. The coolness of the river has become a deep cold that’s worked its way into my bones. The next time I come up, the others have surfaced too. We wait and listen for a few more minutes, but all we can hear are the movement of leaves in the breeze and the distant ringing of a bell.
‘Curfew,’ Sarisi says. ‘The lights will be on soon.’
We wade parallel to the bank for about fifty metres before struggling through the reeds like rats looking for dry land. We crawl into the space beneath the low branch of a red gum.
Willow is shivering and I can’t stop my teeth chattering. We hug each other for the body warmth.
‘What now?’ I stutter, struggling to control my breath.
‘We have to cross the river,’ Sarisi says. Her clothes stick to her, and I can see the bunched muscles of her arms.
‘What about the soldiers?’ I ask. I wish I could stop my body from shaking.
‘There are always people trying to raid the vegetable plots for extra food,’ she says. ‘The soldiers will probably stay and guard them.’
‘Do we swim across the river?’ JT says. He’s trying to control his voice too, but there’s a waver in it.
‘No,’ Ash replies. ‘We’re too cold, now. The bridges are all guarded, but we know a way. Let’s go.’
We stay below the high bank, climbing over debris and fallen branches. Eventually we pass under the first bridge and come out onto a path that seems safe to use now that night has fallen.
‘It’s an old bike track,’ Ash says.
Ahead of us, another bridge appears. When we get closer, I see it’s actually a huge pipe stretching across the river.
‘There’s a metal gantry along one side,’ Sarisi says. ‘It’s rusted out in places, so you have to watch your step, but it’s usually unguarded.’
‘Usually?’ I say.
‘Yeah, no guarantees.’
To access the crossing, we have to climb the bank. Sarisi tells us to wait. We sit and watch, wondering why we’re not crossing straightaway.
Then, as we look over the river towards the main part of town, the lights blink, blink again, and then hold. Everything on our side is left dark.
‘They’ve shut down most of the circuits to save power,’ Sarisi says. ‘They only light what they have to. All the factories start up for two hours.
’
‘Why don’t they use power during the day?’ I ask.
‘They can work outside then—farming mostly, and reinforcing the fences.’
There’s something beautiful about the patterns of light. They seem so strange after the years of darkness. But here they are, lighting streets and corners, houses and factories. The town looks like its own little galaxy. Even with all the chaos and fear rippling around us, it glows with hope and a sense of purpose. It’s mesmerising.
I turn and peer into the darkness behind us. The feeling of being watched hasn’t left me.
‘Come on,’ Sarisi says. ‘Time to move.’
The gantry is only a metre wide and every so often it disappears altogether where it’s rusted and fallen into the river. I try not to think of how far the drop might be. Willow is in front of me, her bow bobbing above her head. The gaps are mostly narrow enough to jump but a couple of them are too wide and we’re forced up onto the pipe, which is curved and slippery. We’re much more exposed up here.
Nearing the other side, Sarisi disappears towards the lights to check things out. We catch our breath and huddle next to the pipe until she whistles us across.
Stepping off the bridge is like entering a different world. The streetlights cast a hazy orange glow over the trees and buildings. This side of the river is lined with the red-brick walls of factories. We can hear the hum of machinery. We keep to the shadows for as long as we can, staying close to the water, until Sarisi turns into an unlit laneway between buildings. It opens onto a wide street, where the wrecks of cars have been pushed to the side to allow vehicles a clearway. A truck swings around the corner ahead of us, its headlights bouncing off broken glass and strips of metal pulled loose from the cars. We flatten ourselves against the wall, and the truck passes through the high gates of a factory further along the street.
‘Sileys,’ Sarisi says. JT and I exchange glances. ‘They bring them here every night while the power’s on. They’ll work until the lights go out. This is a slaughterhouse,’ she says, matter-of-factly.
‘So,’ I say, hardly daring to hope, ‘Kas and Daymu could be with them?’
‘Maybe. This is where the new arrivals usually work.’
‘They would’ve only been here a couple of weeks,’ JT says. I can hear the hope in his voice.
We cross the footpath to gain cover behind the car wrecks and run low and hard until we’re opposite the open gates. The truck is nowhere to be seen, but we can still hear the motor running.
‘You sure you want to do this?’ Sarisi asks. ‘If you’re caught here, there’ll be no escaping.’
JT and I nod. Ash is silent but the look on his face gives Sarisi her answer. Willow is focused on the gates. She doesn’t look nervous, but she’s breathing heavily.
‘How do we do this?’ I ask Sarisi.
‘We can get inside though the loading dock. There’s a corridor that passes the killing floor and leads to the boning room. If they’re here, that’s where they’ll most likely be.’
‘Sounds like you’ve been here before,’ JT says.
She looks away. ‘We can climb to a platform above the boning room,’ she says. ‘No use risking our skins if they’re not there.’
The street is deserted. One at a time, we run to the factory wall and slip inside the gates. As we get closer to the building, the stench of blood and shit fills our nostrils. We pull the rags over our mouths and noses and climb into the loading bay. It’s like entering hell, hot and reeking of death. We can hear the frantic squealing of animals.
‘Pigs,’ Sarisi says.
Inside, the air is even thicker. On one side there are narrow chutes for the animals but Sarisi signals us through the curtain of plastic strips hanging from the ceiling. Behind it, a series of passages, dark and sticky with blood, leads us further into the building. I slip and fall, feeling the thick liquid seep into my clothes. Even with my face covered, I gag every few seconds, the taste of broad beans filling my mouth. The squealing gets louder, echoing through the building.
At the end of a long, sloping passageway, Sarisi climbs a ladder and we follow. At the top, a rough wooden platform extends out over a brightly lit room.
There are soldiers with rifles at each end and about twenty people are spread out along a wide, stainless-steel bench. They watch a man wearing a heavy leather apron cut the meat from a pig carcass that hangs from a sliding rail above him. He grips the shoulder of the animal and slips the knife in, half pulling, half sawing the flesh until a bloodied lump drops onto the table. He slides the cut piece of meat along the line and the others go to work on it with long boning knives.
All the workers look alike: their hair is pulled up under plastic caps, masks cover their faces and their dark blue coveralls are splattered with blood and gristle. My eyes move over them, one at a time. They’re only ten metres away but half of them have their backs to us. I look at their body shape and height, trying to match them to Kas or Daymu.
Willow grabs my arm. She points to a gap in the boards. I put my cheek against the rough timber and peer through. Two figures are getting ready, pulling on their caps. Their masks are on a chair next to them. As one tilts her head back to bunch her hair in her hands, her birthmark catches the light. It’s Kas, and Daymu is next to her, climbing into too-big coveralls.
My heart leaps. They’re here! We’ve found them.
Then I notice a third figure standing on a step above them, arms crossed tight against her chest.
It’s Bridget Monahan.
Kas is so close I could reach out and touch her. I roll onto my side and stare at JT. He’s seen them too. We point to show Sarisi, and she nods before pulling us towards the ladder. I don’t want to leave Kas, but we have to work out what to do next. We retrace our steps to the loading bay, the stench rolling over us in hot waves. Dropping into the yard we creep around the corner to where the truck is parked by the side entrance. There’s no sign of the driver.
‘This is where they’ll come out,’ Sarisi says. ‘The factory lights will be off by then. There’ll be a couple of torches but mostly they’ll rely on the truck headlights. They’re blinding when you walk towards them. It’s our best chance to get to Kas and Daymu.’
‘But how?’ JT asks. ‘Those soldiers were armed.’
‘We’ll take out the headlights. The rest is up to you,’ Sarisi says.
She leads us through a maze of rotting wooden pallets to a spot where the factory wall has collapsed. Bricks are scattered on the ground. ‘We’ll use these,’ she says.
‘Bricks against bullets,’ I say. ‘I don’t like our chances.’
‘Have you got a better idea?’ she asks.
I don’t. I’m not thinking clearly after seeing Kas. I lean against the wall and drag clean air into my lungs.
Sarisi outlines her plan. JT, Willow and I will hide inside the entrance. We’ll signal when Kas and Daymu approach and grab them when Sarisi and Ash take out the headlights with the bricks. Then we run.
We all know it’s a shit plan. The only thing we have going for us is the element of surprise. Otherwise, we’re outgunned and outnumbered. They could raise the alarm and within ten minutes have half the army chasing us through a town we’re not familiar with.
We agree to meet back at the pipe over the river.
Ash pulls JT aside and puts a hand on his shoulder. ‘Get her,’ he implores. ‘Get Daymu.’
JT, Willow and I pull rags over our faces again and slip through the entrance, making our way along a wide corridor that ends in a staircase. They will have to come down it from the boning room. We hide along the side, crouching in the dark, and wait. The small space concentrates the stench that seems to inhabit every corner of the building. It hangs in the air and makes us gag.
Time drags. It must be close to lights out. My stomach aches for food and my legs cramp from squatting against the wall. My throat is dry and I’d give anything for even a mouthful of water.
Willow sits next to me. She punch
es her thighs to stop her legs shaking. She looks up at me and my heart burns with the sight of her. Her lips are tight and she scrapes the hair back behind her ears. She rests the bow across her knees and fits an arrow into place.
After what seems an eternity, the hum of machinery slows and grinds to a halt. The whole building seems to shudder with an exhausted sigh. We jump to our feet. Adrenaline courses through me. Boots thump down the wooden stairs, and two soldiers walk out through the doors to the truck. The engine rumbles to life and the building plunges into momentary darkness before the corridor is flooded with the headlights from the truck.
More footsteps on the stairs above us, moving past in twos and threes. From the shadows, we search their faces for Kas and Daymu. They’re at the back of the group, which is now spread out along the corridor.
Suddenly, there’s the sound of breaking glass and everything is black again. Ash and Sarisi have taken out the headlights. There’s shouting and confusion as bodies collide. We elbow our way into the crowd. JT grabs Daymu, and I put my arm around Kas. She swings wildly with her fist and connects below my ribs. I’m half-winded but I pull her into a headlock and whisper, ‘Kas! It’s me.’
Her body jerks with the sound of my voice and I pull her back below the stairs where Willow waits. Daymu and JT land on top of us.
There’s more shouting and screaming in the corridor now, and sweeping beams of torchlight. The Sileys barge towards the door, knocking aside anyone in their way. Outside, rifle fire rips the air. We cringe back into the dark, our bodies hot and sweaty and stinking of meat.
The corridor empties out. I can imagine the Sileys running blind, trying to find the gates, tripping over each other at the chance at freedom.
Kas finds my face in the dark. She squeezes her hands against my cheeks, her mouth close to mine. ‘I knew you’d come,’ she says. ‘I knew you would.’