How was I supposed to tell a woman, who had already lost so much she'd become trapped in her own mind, that her only son was about to be killed? Would she even understand the words? It could only make her worse. But I couldn't not tell her. He was her son. Her child. Her first baby. One of the few people she — we — had left.
Maybe she'd finally register what was going on. Maybe it would be something that finally broke through the veil of insanity she wore like a life jacket.
Or maybe it would be the thing that tipped her over the edge.
"It's Liam…"
"What about Liam? I sent him to the store with your father. Considering you two useless girls still haven't got my coffee." I stared at her, mouth hanging open.
"No. Mum that's not what—"
"Now come on. Why have we shut all the neighbours out?" I glanced through the window to my left, through the narrow gap where the curtains didn't quite meet, and saw a small cluster of people crowded around the front of our house.
So they'd come back.
And they looked agitated. Word of Liam's punishment must have already been spreading, along with anger that they wouldn't be able to dole out their own retribution.
But what did she mean 'shut them out'? Did she want to let them in? This was bad. She was worse than normal. Could she somehow tell what was happening? Was it driving her over the edge already?
"How can they be expected to stay for a nice dinner with us if you won't let them in?" Dinner? We hadn't eaten proper meals in twelve years, let alone had dinner guests. She shook her head at me and turned towards Gabby.
"Come on darling. Let them in."
"What? Are you crazy?" That was a stupid question, but I couldn't stop it as it threw itself out into the open. I didn't think she'd ever get to the point where she'd try to do something like this. Want to let murderous, deranged people into our house.
"Don't be ridiculous Rosa." My mind was frozen. At least I wasn't trying to kill us all. Usually some part of her would have been able to pick up on the hostility in the air. Would have listened if we said it was a bad idea. Would have had enough self-preservation and parental instincts to give up.
We backed away from the front entryway as the crowd outside turned violent once more. People started knocking on the walls, doors, windows, anything they could get to. Just to scare us. They talked louder, started to yell out at us. The things they said preyed on my anger. Made me want to punch back. But I couldn't.
"dirty terrorists" … "he deserves to die" … "they should all die" … "I bet they were behind the school bombing today" … "they should join him and die" … "terrorists" … "Xiets" … "die" … "die" …
Die.
I tried to block out the words, but that quickly became very difficult. Especially as they got louder. How could they think it was us who did that? Why would we do that? We would never hurt our own people. We got hurt enough by the Xiets. Did they all just forget that they were the reason my dad was gone? The reason why my mum seemed a million miles away? Why would I want to help them?
I would never.
"What can we do?" Gabby was staring at me. Her eyes pleading with me to help her — to help us. We had to do something.
"Mum, no!" Gabby called out, reaching for our mother's arms as she tried to go and open the door behind us. Mum struggled and pushed her aside. Gabby swallowed thickly, concern and fear painting her features even whiter than usual. Mum had never purposefully done anything that could hurt us before. The tension had to have been getting to her. She was getting too worked up with no way to handle it. And now it was set in her mind that she needed to let everybody in. The scary part was how likely she was to succeed.
I didn't know how to stop her. If I reached out for her she'd flail out and probably end up hurting both of us. I looked to Rae in panic. After a moment of hesitation he reached out and grabbed her around her middle. He pinned both of her arms to her sides in the process, effectively restraining her.
"What are you doing Rae? Let go of me. Now." Annoyance and frustration were building in her eyes. But behind it I could sense her fear. She was like a wild bird trapped behind a window, unable to comprehend why it was being held back. I couldn't think of a way to help her. Not without endangering us further. And that just wasn't an option.
"Rosa, I've got her. You need to go. Now."
Gabby grabbed hold of my wrist. "What does he mean go? Rosa, what the hell is going on?"
"I can't think," I managed to spit out of my stupefied mouth. Everything was happening too fast.
I heard a shattering sound and a scream ripped its way up my throat. I pushed Gabby in front of me and herded everyone into our tiny bathroom, flicking the lock behind me. At least now there was some kind of barrier against the hostility pouring through our now broken windows.
As we stood in silence — or as close as we could get with Mum struggling against Rae's hold, and the hand he had clamped over her mouth — I realised two things about the room I had so cleverly locked us all into.
One: it wasn't big enough.
I was sitting on top of the lid of the toilet, my arms wrapped around my folded legs in an attempt to keep them out of the way. Gabby, on the other side of the room, was awkwardly arching her back over the sink behind her. Rae could hardly fit between us with Mum struggling in his arms. He accidentally elbowed Gabby in the stomach and muttered a hushed apology.
Two: there was no other way out.
In order to get out we'd have to go past all the people who we could hear rummaging around our house.
I had effectively locked us in a cage.
The only good thing was that the lock still worked and was on our side. Though there was no telling how long it would hold for if they wanted to get to us in here. I had to hope they were just here to raid our stuff. To scare us. Send a message.
My eyes locked with Rae and I could see reflected in his the same thought that had to have been swimming around in mine. I had to get my family out.
And fast.
✽✽✽
Slowly the footsteps tramping through our house faded out until we finally heard what sounded like the front door slam shut, hinges creaking loudly. After a few moments of stillness I hesitantly turned the lock on the bathroom door and inched it open. Just a crack. Seeing no one waiting to murder me and my family, I opened the door to its full extent.
I held my breath and stepped out cautiously.
Mum finally got away from Rae, who's arms had gone slack as I moved from the room.
"What was that all about?" Her voice wavered and I pivoted to face her. Her jaw was shaking and her eyes shined with fear and confusion. She didn't understand what was happening. She only knew that it was bad and dangerous. That much even she couldn't deny anymore. However, her brain still refused to take in the full extent of what was happening. She wanted us to fix it. To give a simple answer that would make everything okay.
It hit me with the force of a swinging hammer that I should've been the one looking at her that way.
"Um…" Gabby's shaky voice trailed off, trying to think of an answer to give her that wouldn't just cause more pain.
"No. This is ridiculous. You girls have got some explaining to do when your father gets home." I tried not to flinch at that. He was never going to come back home. Why couldn't she at least get that? How was I supposed to accept what had happened — how was I ever supposed to move on from that searing pain — if she never let me forget?
Mum turned and went to her room, swinging the door shut hard behind her. Somehow she didn't notice the utter mess surrounding us. Our entire house had been completely ransacked.
As I looked around I was hyper aware of the absent radio static. The stupid, ugly, life saving machine was gone. A gaping hole in the living room displayed its lack of presence. Stepping towards mine and Gabby's room I could see that many of the books we'd stashed away were gone too. I stopped in my tracks, feeling like I'd been slapped in the face, and headed towards the kitc
hen in a panic. Rae followed quietly. I let out a breath of relief when I saw that the locked cupboard containing our supplies appeared to be untouched. Or, if not untouched, they couldn't get it open. And they didn't take it with them. I had vague memories of my father attaching it the ground and back wall, using a combination of glue and nails that he'd traded some of our old winter baby clothes for. I'd never been more grateful for his forward thinking. Even ten years after his death he still protected us.
"You really should get out of here. Now, before they come back." I looked up to where Rae stood in the doorway and tried to steady my breathing. The adrenaline that had been pumping though my veins was finally draining away.
He noticed the panic flaring in my eyes.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath and stepped towards me. He sat me down at the kitchen table and rubbed circles on my arms. Tried to calm my erratic heart beat.
"Breathe Rosa. Come on. Just take a deep breath."
Panic was a real bitch.
Terror was a real bitch.
I was beginning to think that life was a real bitch as well.
As if there wasn't enough going on at the moment. Now I couldn't even focus enough to figure out how to stay alive. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on Rae's voice and the soothing movements of his hands.
I blocked out everything that was happening, had happened, or could happen.
Would happen.
I couldn't think about that yet.
I wasn't sure how long we sat there, as I tried to shove everything into a box in the back of my head. But when I finally opened my eyes again the room had become considerably darker.
"Are you okay?" I looked to the doorway where Gabby stood, concern written all over her face. I nodded slowly. It wasn't like I had much of a choice. I was either okay or I was going to die.
She cleared her throat awkwardly, drawing my full attention.
"What did you mean when you said we had to go?" I wasn't sure which of us she was actually talking to anymore. The words we'd said, things we'd done… Everything from the past twelve hours was turning into one big blur in my head. Milky and impossible to decipher.
"Gabby. Look at what just happened. And it's only going to get worse. We can't just sit here until," my voice broke over the word and I stopped to clear my throat, procrastinating what I had to say next.
"Until Liam's gone and they come for us next."
"What do you mean?" She snapped, frustration and dread tinged her words.
"I mean we have to leave, Gabby. We have to get out of here."
FOUR
Seconds passed as Gabby just stood there and struggled to come to terms with the words I'd given her. The only answer I could provide. Then, like the flick of a switch, they must have settled in her mind. She glanced away for a breath and nodded before abandoning her post at the door frame. I assumed she had gone to pack some of her stuff, what little she had of necessity, and I jumped up to gather the supplies we'd gotten earlier in the day. Eager to do something to make this plan seem less hopeless.
I shook out my brain, doing my best to discard the bad thoughts, and unlocked the small unit that contained everything we had in the way of sustenance. I collected the three bottles of water nestled towards the back, thankful we'd managed to keep one relatively full from last weeks rations. I cursed to myself when I saw the neat little stack of water ration cards we'd yet to trade in. I supposed we would have to find a natural source somewhere. Not that I knew what that source was going to be, or where that somewhere was.
I stared at the cards a little longer and thought bitterly about the system we'd had in place for my whole life. I highly doubted the collection building was open. It never was for more than four hours a day. It had something to do with preventing overcrowding, or making sure they had the stock. Either way I wasn't going to delude myself into thinking they wanted to provide my terrorist ass with anything.
I sifted through the cupboards — if you could even call it that with the little amount of stuff we actually had to go through — in search of a bag. Before I could get too frantic an old backpack was dangling in my line of vision.
Rae, yet again, thought of everything.
I dumped everything I'd grabbed through the open zip before slipping my arm through one of the straps, dimly aware that the other one was barely still attached to the main pocket. It fit uncomfortably over my bullet-proof vest.
It had only been by chance that I hadn't taken the thing off. Instead I'd hidden it underneath my jacket when we went to the prison with Liam. I hadn't wanted them to confiscate it, and wearing it openly, right in their faces, seemed a good way to do that. I was so thankful it hadn't been left out here.
There was a loud clatter from one of the other rooms and my legs steered me towards it on instinct.
"Mum you need to come with us. Come on. Think of it like a… like a camping trip." There was desperation in my sister's voice as she pleaded. I stopped at the closed door of my mother's room.
"Gabby. I have to wait here for your father and Liam. You know that. I can't, and I won't, go anywhere without them." There was a note of hysteria weaved into her words. She thought that we were going to force her to leave.
Gabby spoke too quietly for me to hear as I reached for the handle.
"No! You can't make me leave them!"
"Gabby," I called gently into the room, edging the door open further. "We need to go now."
The sense of finality that followed those words hurt me in a deep way that I hadn't expected. I would never come back here. I was leaving everything I'd ever known. The only place that had ever offered me any sort of safety.
I tried to focus on the good things that would come from this, at least theoretically. No more bombings. No more rations. A chance for things to be better. But at the same time I couldn't really believe it. For all I knew I was leading the few family members I had left right into the middle of a war zone. We could end up walking straight into our enemies outstretched arms.
Gabby rushed forward and wrapped her arms around our mother, and I stepped back, retreating into the doorway to give her space. Tears were slipping freely down her cheeks by the time she pushed her way past me and out of the room, grabbing the faded pink backpack from my shoulder in the process.
I stepped closer to Mum and was a little surprised when she wrapped her arms around me. For a moment it was like I was seven years old again and she was protecting me from the thunderous sound of bombs landing at the other end of the city. Her soothing voice just by my ear telling me it'd all be okay, Daddy would be home soon.
But I was soon snapped out of my thoughts.
"Have a fun camping trip honey. Take care of Gabby will you? She's not as good with the outdoorsy survival stuff." The genuine smile on her face scratched at the wounds on my heart. She had no idea that she would never see us again. And the idea of leaving her behind hurt.
Could I really do this?
Take her final two babies away from her?
"I won't let anything happen to her. I promise." I pulled out of her embrace, and after a lingering look, headed towards the kitchen, where I knew Gabby had gone and was waiting for me.
Before I could make it more than three steps Rae threw his arms around me.
"Just be safe. Please?" His voice was thick. I sniffed loudly.
"I promise. But you have to promise me as well."
He squeezed me tighter, and together we held on to each other, while the knowledge of what was happening tried to drive us apart.
"Of course. And I'll check up on your mum too."
I nodded past the tears.
Goodbyes hurt.
The idea that we would never see each other again made me not want to let go.
But I had to.
I unwrapped myself from his arms and stepped back. Wiped my hands over my cheeks and under my nose. Forced a smile I didn't really feel.
I turned away and stepped into the kitchen.
When I sa
w some of our meagre food supplies being put back into the cabinet I didn't even react.
"They're for Mum." I nodded, not surprised that Gabby would think of our mother's wellbeing before her own. She did it with me too. It had become second nature to her as she'd gotten older. And now that Mum wasn't coming with us… I almost wanted to leave her everything we had. But that wasn't very logical.
I grabbed our well-worn backpack from where Gabby had left it on the table and glanced around myself slowly. I knew this house too well. It didn't seem possible that we weren't coming back.
I could almost imagine my father sitting at the head of the table going over schoolwork with Liam. Mum humming to herself in the kitchen, trying to keep our spirits up while she worked on the dinner. Gabby and I would have been playing in our room with the few toys our family had managed to gather over the years.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked away tears, studying the frayed material clasped in my pale, dirtied fingers. That image was never going to happen again. One of those people was dead, another soon to be, one was lost in her memories, and the last two were not only older now, but they were never going to enter this house again. It was time to stop filling my head with these stupid memories. They wouldn't help me survive.
"We should probably go now, huh?" It should have been weird that my older sister was looking to me for guidance, but it had been my idea. And from the little experience we'd gained over the course of our lives, Mum hadn't been wrong. I was better at a lot of the survival stuff. My sister was the better fighter, and her heart definitely would make her a better caregiver. But what we needed right now weren't hugs and kisses, or punches and bullets.
What we needed was to get away quickly, quietly, and to not die.
"Yes. Before they all come back and decide it isn't only our radio they want." I hoped against everything my gut was telling me that they wouldn't hurt Mum. That they would consider her too feeble minded to be a threat.
After another quick goodbye with Rae we went out the back door that bordered the edge of Palla's populated space. There were a number of houses out this way that were kept largely unoccupied in an attempt to throw off any residential terrorist attacks. If Xiets decided to bomb houses we needed some kind of system to prevent ourselves from being so quickly blown up.
Bright Cold Day Page 4