by John Marsden
We had three ways to get the four-wheeler past a fallen tree. One was to detour, one was to push the tree off the road, the other was to ride right over the top of it. The trunks were wet and slimy though, and they kept slipping out of our hands when we lifted them, and when I tried to ride over them the big fat wheels tended to slide all the way down the trunks and branches.
Before long my arms were aching. I was tiring fast, and we seemed to be taking forever to reach the border. Lee offered to swap but I didn’t think it was fair: he was the one who’d been up all night.
Then we got a good run of nearly a kilometre and suddenly we were there.
I’d never actually seen the border before. At this stage it was fairly rough. Apparently the highways and other roads were different – it was well marked, as you’d expect. But here it was pretty casual. Our track had almost faded away and was getting hard to follow. But a couple of strands of barbed wire, a splash of paint on trees either side of the path, and we were about to enter the occupied zone.
Apart from a trip to New Zealand during the war, this was the first time I’d left my own country. Except it was still hard for me to think of it as leaving my own country.
Gavin held up the bottom strand of wire and we rolled the bikes through. I had a quick whispered discussion with Lee.
‘How far from here?’
‘Not far at all. If we take the bikes another five minutes, then we better walk.’
‘It’ll be hard with the petrol.’
‘Well, the walk’s not much more than ten, fifteen minutes.’
‘Twenty with the drums,’ I thought.
We got going. Searching my mind, trying to find something that would help me feel better, trying to think of some advantage we might have, all I could come up with was that they mightn’t know of Lee’s existence. If they’d been searching the bush they should have given up by now. It wasn’t much to pin our hopes on, but it would have to do.
The track became little more than a walking path, covered by thick green grass. It sure wasn’t used very much. Time and time again the four-wheeler barely squeezed between the saplings. I had to keep ducking to avoid low branches, and I could feel Gavin behind me doing some fast swerving as several branches nearly wiped him out.
Lee glided to a halt under a big old gum tree and got off the Yamaha. He walked it into the bush and hid it. I got the drums off the back of the Polaris, then took it down the track another thirty metres and pushed it behind a tree. Without being told, Gavin covered it with bracken and branches.
We slung the rifles over our backs. Lee picked up two drums and Gavin and I got one each. I didn’t know how long Gavin would last with his but every bit helped. I glanced at him as we set off. He looked calm but how could any of us be calm, walking into a gully full of killers? I’d rather be getting a family of snakes out of the woodheap.
For the first few minutes we took no great care but then Lee signalled with a finger to his lips that we needed to get quiet. Gavin was falling behind but when I tried to take his drum he snarled at me and I snatched my hand back. I counted my fingers quickly, and he smiled. I felt proud of that – getting a smile out of Gavin was hard work sometimes.
We side-slid down a gully into the bed of an old creek. A little water was running along it. That was good as it helped wash away any noise we made. My arms felt like they were going to drop off. I couldn’t imagine how Gavin was still carrying his drum. Lee, in front, looked as steady and calm as ever. I think he had the leaking can though, as the smell of petrol kept wafting back over me.
The further we went, the slower Lee went. Soon he was stopping every five or ten metres to take a good look ahead. I realised in the middle of this just how quickly and easily I had slipped back into my wartime role. It was like the worries of my parents’ deaths and the financial hassles with the farm, even the really important things like the Legal Studies assignment I was planning to do this same lunchtime, all of it had dropped away. I was back with Lee, on our way to meet Homer, we were out there in the bush against a dangerous enemy, and in a weird sort of way it was comfortable. All my senses were functioning at maximum revs. I was wide awake. Somewhere along the way, during the last year or so, I’d become good at this stuff. Maybe I should join the Army.
While I was congratulating myself on my brilliant military skills I nearly ran into Lee’s back. He was behind a tree and he looked around and frowned when I bumped his petrol can. ‘How about we leave the fuel here and see if we can get a look at the set-up?’ he whispered.
‘OK.’
I pointed to the drums, made a ‘stop’ gesture at Gavin, and mouthed, ‘You stay here, look after the petrol,’ and he nodded calmly. ‘What does he do with his fear?’ I asked myself. Occasionally it showed, but not often.
I knew he would be safe. He mucked around all the time when there was no pressure on, but he wouldn’t do anything stupid in a situation like this. And he’d be happy now that he had something important to do.
Lee and I left the creek and, unslinging our rifles, went a bit higher. I could see that the gully was opening out ahead. We moved carefully through the bush. Lee led me about three-quarters of the way up the ridge. It was steep country but quite bare. I was trying to stay calm and focused but I couldn’t help thinking that it was rare for us to be doing anything like this in broad daylight. Pretty dangerous.
We stopped about a thousand times. If sentries had caught Homer, we had to assume they would be out here somewhere. And probably more of them than before, now that they’d been spooked by Homer’s arrival. On the other hand he could have just walked into a couple of blokes coming back from a party in the nearest town. We didn’t know, but we always had to assume the worst.
At last I caught a glimpse of movement. I grabbed Lee from behind. He just nodded, to show he’d seen it too. We crouched slowly and shuffled into the rocks a bit further. I got up higher and found a friendly boulder, and from behind it realised I was looking down on the whole camp.
It was quite a set-up. There were four buildings that I could see, prefab places that looked like the demountable classrooms we had at school. They hadn’t made much effort to camouflage them. I could see only six soldiers, who were in a mixture of uniforms and T-shirts and jeans. But two of the soldiers were definitely on guard, outside a yellow building. Of the others, one was crouched in front of another building, having a smoke, two, both carrying rifles, were talking to each other at the side of the clearing, and the last was walking away into the bush. Luckily on the other side of the clearing. He too carried his rifle.
I pointed to the building that was guarded and Lee nodded. So that was where Homer and possibly Nick Greene were held. I assumed one of them at least was still alive, or there wouldn’t be any need for guards. So that was the good news.
Now that we were here, looking at the reality of it, my confidence started fading. We couldn’t just shoot these people out of hand. That’d be murder, wouldn’t it? Officially we weren’t at war with them anymore. And anyway, if we did start shooting we’d probably get killed. If there were twenty of them we were way outnumbered.
I slithered back a little and Lee joined me. ‘What do you think?’ I asked him.
‘It’s hard to say. Half of them could be out in the bush. But they’re not very organised. They looked like a mess this morning. Torches rushing around everywhere. Half a dozen guys with rifles could have picked them off easily.’ He looked at me then added, ‘Where do you want to set off the petrol?’
‘Over that way.’ I nodded to the other end, away from where Gavin was waiting. ‘Unless . . .’
‘Unless what?’
I’d been planning to detonate the petrol some distance off, to start a diversion. But now, looking at the landscape, I had a different idea.
It would be wild and it would be risky, but if it came off it could just reduce the odds a bit.
CHAPTER 13
IT TOOK FOREVER to get organised. We had to be so careful. On t
he one hand there was a sense of urgency, because every time I looked at the campsite I felt they were getting busier. In particular there was more and more movement around the yellow building where we assumed Homer and the Greene guy were held. I couldn’t work out what was going on, but I was getting bad vibes. As soldiers went in and out I imagined, or sensed, that they were acting cocky and aggressive. Kind of high-powered. Around the rest of the camp they seemed pretty lazy.
Then at about two o’clock a vehicle came in and parked quite close to the building. I had the feeling that it was going to be involved with Homer and Nick Greene in some way. My hunch was that it was going to take at least one of them away. I didn’t have any evidence for that. Just the way it was placed I guess, and the way the driver, when he got out, talked to a couple of soldiers, with a lot of gesturing at the demountable.
The ute was a funny little green four wheel drive, a Suzuki, with a tray back. For a moment I got the sick idea that maybe it was there to take away a couple of bodies but I shook my head fast to get rid of that one. I couldn’t let myself think in those terms.
The car’s arrival showed at least one thing though, that there must be a driveable track going out to the north-west. I didn’t know if that information would be any use to us but I filed it in the back of my mind.
We spent nearly two hours watching to see what they were doing in the way of sentries. Boy, did that bring back memories of the war. Already, in the months since it had finished, I’d more or less forgotten these long, boring but tense periods of time. They were boring because you couldn’t move, you just stayed hidden in your spot, watching and listening and getting thirsty and hungry, and they were tense because your life was on the line and at any moment there could be a disaster. I think only people who have been there can understand what it’s like. From a distance I suppose war can seem exciting, but for every five minutes of wild head-spinning, gut-churning, nerve-charging action there’s a hundred hours of hard slogging and tedious work.
Anyway, as far as I could tell there was no real system of sentries. Instead there seemed to be guys out in the bush wandering around with their rifles, each with his own area to cover. Some were dangerous and some were slack. For example, some came into the campsite to talk to their mates and have a smoke, until the guy in charge pointed them back into the bush. But there were times when a whole large area would be unpatrolled for more than twenty minutes, even half an hour. It wasn’t much of a window of opportunity. But it was all we had.
At last I signalled to Lee that we should sneak out. It was hard to move for the first few minutes – I was so sore and cramped from being in the one spot. But I knew we couldn’t leave Gavin any longer.
When we got to the creek bed I couldn’t see him for a minute but then he dropped from a branch right above my head. Gave me a hell of a shock. No matter how long I was caught up in this fighting stuff I seemed to have trouble remembering a few basic rules, one of which was that you need to look above the level of your own eyes. I wished I could remember it. My chances of staying alive would increase quite a bit if I did.
I explained to the boys what I had in mind. They looked doubtful but I guess neither of them had any better ideas, because they didn’t say anything.
It meant using Gavin, which I didn’t like as a matter of principle, but it’s funny how when you’re desperate and everything’s on the line principles can fade fast from your memory. Of course he was happy to be involved, even if he wasn’t confident about my plan. I think he was too lonely and even scared to be on his own for hours more. He figured that being in the attack had to be better than spending more time alone. I wasn’t so sure I agreed, but we were fresh out of choices.
We had to do two trips with the drums. We left the leaking one till last, to cut the smell factor down. They really were too heavy for Gavin, and the ground was getting steeper, so Lee and I took one each.
It was an excruciating little journey. The trouble was, we couldn’t just move on a hundred metres, have a look round, and move on again. We had to go from one hiding place to another. Gavin was quite useful, because we could send him ahead to check that the way was clear. It was his job to find each new hiding place. And in the bush, in daylight, there aren’t actually a lot of hiding places for three people and two drums of petrol.
He did a pretty good job though. A couple of times he had us in situations where we really didn’t have enough cover. One was a hollow in the ground where we were expected to lie down and somehow be out of sight, and the other was a hollow tree that barely had enough room for him, let alone us two as well. But I think we were able to convey to him that we didn’t appreciate being turned into easy targets, and he soon got the message.
A hundred metres from the point I wanted to reach we holed up between a couple of grass trees. They were a bit prickly, but it was a good spot to wait. From there Lee could begin his journey to the other side of the gully, taking the drums, while Gavin and I went back to the gully to get the other two.
I had to take a short rest back there. I seemed to have no energy left. I wanted to get to Homer as soon as possible but I’d had no food, no water, and we’d been on the go all day. Gavin beckoned me down the creek bed a bit further and showed me a pool the size of a table. The water seemed clear enough and I drank it like a dog, head down and bum up, lapping away till I could feel it washing against my insides.
If the first trip had been tough the second was a nightmare. I knew it would be of course. Maybe that’s why I felt so stuffed before we started. But even so. Again I got Gavin to range on ahead but this time I had to carry both the drums, with a rifle across my back that got heavier with each step. At least one of the drums felt only half full now. I wondered if Lee had taken both his drums together, like he’d planned, or whether he’d given up and done them one by one.
And then suddenly we were in trouble. I’d just joined Gavin between a couple of smallish boulders, neither of which offered much cover. I could see the problem though. There wasn’t anywhere else for quite a way. But just as I got to him I heard footsteps coming towards us, at a slightly higher level.
They sounded like they were about fifty metres away. I tapped Gavin on the shoulder and gestured to him to be quiet. He looked up at me, anxiously, but with an expression of . . . I don’t know what exactly, but he didn’t take his eyes off me for the next few minutes. The steps got slowly closer and closer. I was sweating, feeling like a trapped fox, about to gnaw my leg off so I could escape. I knew there was no-one to defend us here. International law didn’t stretch this far into the bush.
I shuffled around to get my rifle off my back. God, if I had to fire it here, there would be hell to pay. I’d probably be signing the death warrants of Homer and the Greene guy. And probably Lee’s as well. But what else could I do? If he found us, if we let him capture us, that’d probably result in death warrants all round.
I had to manoeuvre the rifle around Gavin’s head. There wasn’t much room. The steps were so close and somehow the sounds were getting magnified in my head. I shifted my position slightly. I couldn’t work the bolt on the rifle as it would make too much noise. Still, I’d have a moment. He’d be so shocked that he’d take a second or two to react, surely?
He was right at the rocks. He stopped. It was like he knew we were there, just a metre away now. He’d lean forward, turn his head slightly to the right and see us. That’d be the end. I could imagine it so clearly. I even knew what his face would look like. His shocked hard face, the face of a killer. I raised the rifle another few inches. What was he doing? Why the delay? Was he trying to torture us? I heard a funny noise. A gushing of water, quite a strong stream. A pungent smell drifted into the space between the rocks. At the same time a bubbling darkish pool started to spread towards Gavin’s feet.
Any other time I might have got the giggles. My eyes locked on to Gavin’s. Luckily we were both too scared to laugh. Then I started to feel revolted by the smell. Working on a farm, you see everything
, you smell everything, you get used to anything, but somehow this really made me feel disgusted.
Maybe it wiped out the smell of the petrol for him though. Maybe he didn’t have much sense of smell. Who knows? They say kids have a stronger sense of smell than adults.
The gushing stopped. I distinctly heard his zipper go up. That’s how close he was. Then the footsteps started again and he went on his way.
Gavin, with a mixture of joke disgust and real disgust, showed me how the urine had reached his shoe and wet the side of it. I made a face then put my finger to my lips. We still weren’t safe from this guy, not by a big margin.
But he didn’t come back. After about fifteen minutes we crawled out, looking around like wombats sniffing the evening air, and set off again. I hoped Lee wasn’t getting too worried. We hadn’t worked out what to do if he got no signal from me. We should have. We already had enough problems.
It was another fifteen minutes before we got to the grass trees. And as we got the pair of drums into place, we started to lose control of the situation. It was like we’d triggered trouble. We hadn’t of course, it was just coincidence, but I’ve never been too sure about this coincidence thing. My friend Robyn used to have some joke about coincidence being God’s way of telling you to wake up. Except I don’t think Robyn saw it as a joke. She was pretty religious. Maybe it wasn’t a joke.
In this case though, it was more likely to be the devil telling us to wake up. Because suddenly it looked like they were going to do something with Homer and the other guy. The man in charge strode out of one hut, yelled a few orders, and the next minute half a dozen soldiers had lined up in a little squad in the middle of the clearing. They did it pretty efficiently too. I wasn’t wildly happy about that. I’d almost been forgetting that they were in some way members of a military force. I’d been trying to convince myself that they were slack but they didn’t look slack while this guy was in charge.