Ghost Species

by James Bradley

  Out in the garden she crouches down and goes back to transplanting the potatoes. Sami hovers by the fence, his hands in his pocket, glancing around. Eventually he comes and stands close behind her.

  ‘I’m sorry about your mother,’ he says. She pauses. There is something awkward in his tone, as if he is searching for some point of connection. She remembers him as a boy, his restless energy and inability to be still. With a quick movement she shoves the trowel into the ground. ‘Thank you. How is Yassamin?’

  Sami shrugs. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a long time.’

  ‘But she’s okay?’

  Sami hesitates. ‘I think so.’

  Eve feels a little rush of relief at the news that Yassamin is all right. The disasters of recent months have come thick and fast.

  ‘Is she still in her apartment?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ he says, his voice flat and expressionless.

  ‘Lukas says it’s bad in the cities.’

  Sami looks down. ‘Yeah. It is. You have enough here, though, by the look of it.’

  Eve doesn’t reply. The past year has not been easy, and they have had to learn many things the hard way.

  ‘Trust Lukas to land on his feet,’ says Sami.

  That evening Sami joins them in the dining room. He is the last to arrive, and while they wait the others pepper Lukas and Eve with questions about him. When Sami walks in, though, they fall quiet, waiting while Lukas introduces him to those who have not met him, pointing to them and listing their names: Carla and Malla, Virat, Octavia, Tomas and Sophie, Otis and finally Callum, then pulls out a seat so he can sit next to him.

  Dinner is soup and bread, simple but filling. Sami eats quickly, avoiding Eve’s eye, but he cannot avoid the questions of the others. Where have you been? How is it down there? Is it true, have you seen, did you hear, they roll on and on. With every answer Sami grows more confident, more voluble, more like his old self. Finally somebody asks how he knows Lukas, and for a brief moment the two of them look at each other, something wordless passing between them, before Lukas looks away.

  Sami grins. ‘We went to school together.’

  Carla laughs. ‘Hard to imagine Lukas at school. When I met him at university he was already so serious.’

  Lukas leans back in his chair and folds his arms, his eyes fixed on Sami.

  Sami laughs. ‘He was just the same.’

  After they have eaten the others linger in the dining room for longer than usual, chatting and laughing and enjoying the novelty of Sami’s presence. But by nine the last of them make their excuses and retire to their rooms to read or sleep. Once the last of them is gone, Eve goes outside to check on the animals, grateful for the time alone. She returns to find Sami sitting on the step.

  ‘I heard you go out,’ he says.

  ‘I wanted to make sure the goats are okay.’

  ‘You look after them?’

  ‘We all do.’ She pauses. ‘They asked you a lot of questions.’

  Sami nods. ‘They did.’

  ‘You didn’t mind?’

  ‘I survived,’ he says, then grins. ‘I could murder a cigarette, though.’

  ‘You could ask Lukas.’

  Sami laughs. ‘I’m not sure he’d give away one of his stash for me.’

  Eve supresses a laugh. ‘Probably not.’

  Sami looks up at her, his black eyes liquid in the half-light. ‘It’s good to see you, Eve,’ he says.

  She smiles. ‘It’s good to see you as well.’

  Later, alone in her room, she listens to the sounds of the night. The distant lowing of the animals, the murmur of Malla’s voice from the next building, the soft creak of the bed in Tomas and Sophie’s room two doors away. What must it be, to have somebody to lie with like that, to share that private world? Sometimes she hears the sound of bodies moving with bodies, the stifled cries of release, so close to pain, and feels the gulf of an absence she is afraid to name. Touching her lip, she remembers that night with Sami, the feel of him close to her, wonders whether he remembers it as well.

  She wakes in the pre-dawn darkness to the sound of a car door in the distance, voices she does not know. Pulling a jumper on over her nightdress she hurries out into the hall and finds Sophie standing there, her legs bare beneath a stretched T-shirt.

  ‘There’s someone at the gate,’ she says, her face pale. Eve pushes past her and heads towards the door. Tomas is standing on the edge of the veranda, staring down; as she emerges he glances around, then back. The gate is open. Outside it, a pair of utes are parked on the track, their headlights illuminating the four figures advancing up the driveway.

  ‘Who are they?’ she asks Tomas.

  He shakes his head. ‘I don’t know,’ but before he can say more the screen swings open behind them and Lukas appears, pulling a T-shirt over his head, boots loose on his feet. He stares down the drive, his face set.

  ‘Fuck,’ he hisses under his breath.

  He grabs Tomas’s arm, pulls him towards himself. ‘Wake the others,’ he says.

  Tomas nods and takes off towards the other buildings. Lukas turns to Eve. ‘Stay back,’ he says. ‘I’ll handle this.’

  Eve waits until he is halfway down the drive and then steps down off the veranda and circles around so she can see what is going on. Lukas stops a little way from the gate and the men approach him. Two of them have rifles slung over their shoulders, and although their stance is deliberately loose, almost casual, there is no mistaking the threat contained within it. The largest of them grins.

  ‘Jesus,’ he says. ‘This place wasn’t easy to find.’

  Lukas stares at him. ‘Is there something you want?’

  The man nods. ‘My name’s Drago. We’re with the Security Council. We’re making an inventory of resources.’

  ‘What kind of resources?’

  Drago smiles. ‘Just the basics. Food. Weapons. Numbers of residents.’

  ‘I’m not sure those are any of your business,’ Lukas says. As Lukas speaks Eve is suddenly aware of the contrast between his lean frame and the heavy build of the four men.

  ‘The Council is handling security for the Provisional Government. There have been a few unfortunate incidents. We just want to make sure there aren’t more.’

  ‘We haven’t had any trouble here,’ says Lukas.

  Drago stares at him for a moment. ‘No?’ he says at last. ‘No saying what the future holds, though, is there?’

  There is a long silence. Lukas does not move. ‘If that’s everything, perhaps you should go,’ he says at last.

  Drago begins to reply, but then he notices something over Lukas’s shoulder. Eve turns to see that Sami has emerged from the house and is standing with Tomas and Virat and Carla.

  Drago stares at Sami for a second or two. Then he smiles unpleasantly and returns his attention to Lukas.

  ‘We’ll be back in a few days. We can chat more then,’ he says.

  Lukas doesn’t reply, just stands, staring, as Drago and his companions turn and walk back towards the utes.

  Lukas waits until the utes are gone, then turns and stalks back towards the house. Eve and the others follow him in. In the kitchen he ties his shoelaces, his motions swift, almost violent.

  ‘Who were they?’ asks Octavia.

  Lukas finishes tying his shoes.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Do you think this Security Council they say they work for is real?’ Tomas asks.

  Lukas turns and stares out the window.

  ‘Perhaps. Does it matter?’

  ‘But why come now? And so early in the morning.’

  ‘Because they wanted to catch us off guard,’ says Tomas. ‘See how many of us there are.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Lukas replies.

  ‘They had cars,’ Carla says. Lukas nods, his face troubled.

  ‘That means they have access to petrol,’ Tomas says. Since last summer fuel has been almost impossible to come by. The backup generator runs on diesel, bu
t heavy work now mostly relies on securing the loan of a horse. The question of what they will do when it comes time to plough the field again is one they have all discussed repeatedly.

  ‘How would they have petrol if they weren’t from the government?’ Eve asks.

  Lukas shrugs. ‘Who knows? The could have a cache of it somewhere. But it’s more likely it means the government has found a new supply.’

  ‘You think it’s the Chinese?’ Virat asks.

  Lukas looks at him. On the mainland the Chinese government has been annexing land for food production under the aegis of disaster relief, but until now there has been no word of them here on the island.

  ‘Maybe,’ he says. ‘Let me talk to some of the others.’

  Although their gate is well back from the road and hidden behind a stand of wattles Lukas planted when he first bought the property, this is not the first time strangers have turned up on their doorstep. The first year after the Melt, when things were at their most chaotic, people came drifting up the road every day or two. Most were small groups, usually men, or men with a woman or two, but some were families, the adults hungry and scared, the children pale and exhausted. Lukas made sure they never came up the drive, but was always careful to offer them a loaf of bread and clean water or something they could spare. Once or twice they refused to leave, and there were words exchanged, or even blows, but they always moved on eventually.

  Since that first winter the numbers arriving at the gates have thinned, presumably because the scarcity of fuel means fewer people make the journey this far out. Even so, it is unusual for a month to go by without a wanderer or two turning up at the gate.

  Sometimes there are raids and thefts as well. In their first winter somebody stole the cattle from the high field. It was done under cover of dark, and in silence, and though none of them know who it was, Lukas and some of the others suspect one of the farmers further south. After that they were without milk for three weeks, until they convinced Jemima Rawson to let them buy one of her cows in exchange for a promise to help her work her fields when the summer came. Since then they have been careful to ensure the animals are checked hourly at night, but there are still incidents: a year ago somebody stole a trailerload of feed, and three months after that seven chickens disappeared overnight. Worse, though, are the acts of vandalism, the fences knocked down or crops destroyed. Whether these are kids from the surrounding farms or something more sinister nobody knows, but each time it happens they are left feeling angry, violated, a little less safe.

  Eve knows their neighbours share this sense of vulnerability. Since last summer there has been a market in the town every second Saturday, a place for them to bargain and trade what little they have. Yet its real value lies in the talk afterwards, the informal gathering of locals in the old pub, and the forum it creates for ideas and sharing.

  She knows many of them are wary of Lukas: he is too young, his manner too abrupt. But he has found a way to work with Jemima Rawson and her wife, and over the past few months he has discussed them pooling their resources more often. But all know their presence here is tenuous: last winter people chopped down the trees that lined the road up from the town, leaving the land broken, bare, and as the summer approaches the threat of fire is greater. They have all seen the images of what is happening elsewhere.

  This is different, though, and not just because the men were armed. Until now they have been protected by the chaos in the cities. But together with the reports of the Chinese on the mainland, these men and their talk of a provisional government suggest the world outside the valley is changing, and not for the better.

  That evening there is a meeting in the old hall in town. Gathered together, the people of the valley look rough and worn. Lukas has spoken to a number of them already, and they have all had similar visits. Before the Melt many were city dwellers; Lukas believes more than a few of them have not fully accepted the world has changed forever, meaning the reality of the new world frightens them, angers them, and no more so than tonight.

  Eve slips in late and takes a seat against the back wall, anxious to avoid the stares of the others. People are talking and shouting, their faces agitated, afraid. Finally Lukas stands up and calls for quiet. Gradually the hubbub subsides.

  ‘You all know why we’re here. And I know everybody is worried,’ Lukas says. ‘But we need to have a plan in case they come back.’

  ‘When they come back!’ interjects one of the women.

  Lukas nods. ‘When they come back. Because they will. I think we can count on that.’

  ‘Is it true they had guns?’ asks somebody at the back. Eve turns. It is Damon Brenner, who runs the vineyards up on the old Hill Road.

  Lukas hesitates just slightly. ‘Two of them had rifles. But I think we should assume they all have weapons. And that they’re prepared to use them.’

  At the back of the hall the door opens again and Sami appears. He closes the door quietly and takes an empty seat in the back row.

  ‘I thought the government was gone,’ says one of the others.

  Lukas looks at them. ‘It is. Or effectively at least. But that doesn’t mean there won’t be people trying to fill that vacuum. We need to take them seriously.’

  ‘Then what? We should just give them what they want?’

  ‘No. But we need to present a united front, force them to negotiate with us as a group. They need to understand they can’t just walk in here and take what they want.’

  There is a murmur of unease. ‘But what if they try to force us?’

  Lukas stands, staring at them. ‘Then we defend ourselves.’

  There is silence for a moment, then everybody talks at once. Although she could not say why, Eve feels some kind of line has been crossed. In the back row Sami stands up, and with a quick look at Lukas, heads back to the door and disappears.

  Once the meeting is over, Eve goes outside. Thinking Sami might still be waiting she looks around, but he is nowhere to be seen. Behind her people are beginning to drift out, but suddenly she wants to be alone, so she heads out onto the road and begins to walk.

  It is half an hour on foot to the house, but the night is mild, so she decides to go the long way, meaning it is almost an hour before she wanders back up the drive towards the house. Lukas is sitting on the veranda smoking a cigarette.

  He regards her thoughtfully as she climbs the stairs. He looks tired.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he asks.

  Eve shrugs. ‘Walking,’ she says. She turns and looks up at the vast span of the Milky Way. Since the lights of the cities have faded the stars have come back, brighter than ever.

  ‘I know it’s frightening, but we shouldn’t be surprised. Capitalism feeds on crisis. It was only a matter of time before it began to reshape itself.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll really hurt us if we don’t give them what they want?’

  Lukas doesn’t answer at once. Instead he looks past her.

  ‘I do. But we need to negotiate, make it hard for them.’

  ‘What if they decide they can just take it?’

  ‘Then we don’t let them.’

  Lukas takes a drag on his cigarette. ‘You don’t think it’s a coincidence?’ he asks.

  Confused, she shakes her head. ‘What?’

  ‘Sami turning up at the same time as Drago and his thugs.’

  She hesitates. ‘How could it be?’

  A wary look crosses his thin face. ‘Do you know where he is now?’

  Eve shakes her head.

  ‘You need to be careful of him,’ Lukas says.

  Eve doesn’t reply.

  ‘What is it?’ he asks.

  She turns to him. ‘You never told me why you stopped being friends.’

  Lukas snorts softly. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  Lukas nods. ‘After I finished school Sami lived with me for a while. I still had my parents’ house, but I was on my own, and I had a room to spare, so I let him have it.’
He pauses, thinking. ‘Sami was using by then; I think he’d been using for a while, and he used to borrow money off me, never pay it back, but that didn’t worry me. Anyway, one day I came home, and somebody had broken in, been through the place. They hadn’t taken much, but most of what was missing was jewellery that had belonged to my mother. I knew I should call the cops, but before I did I called Sami. Usually he answered straight away, but that night the phone rang twice, and then diverted to voicemail. He didn’t come home that night, or the next, but when he did, he acted surprised about the break-in, and when I asked him if he knew anything about it he got angry, told me he couldn’t believe I’d think it was him.’

  Lukas stops. Dropping the cigarette to the ground he grinds it out with his foot. ‘I told him to get out and not come back. It wasn’t the fact he’d taken the stuff that bothered me. It was the way he lied to me, the fact he thought I’d just believe him.’

  Eve doesn’t know what to say, and for a long time they sit in silence. Finally Lukas stands up. ‘He is what he is, Eve. Just don’t let him hurt you.’

  Once Lukas has gone she sits in silence on the front step for a long time. Lukas’s story has unsettled her. She knows Lukas well enough to know he is telling the truth. But would Sami have done such a thing? And if he did, does that mean he would do it again?

  Finally she stands up and walks out through the garden towards the goatshed. As she gets closer she can smell their warm, dusty scent. Eve checks the padlock then slides open the small window in the side. In the darkness their sleeping forms are almost invisible, but Eve is pleased to see her favourite, Smilla, outlined in the light from the window. Closing the window, she turns just in time to see a figure detach itself from the blackness of the trees on the far side of the field and move quickly towards the house.

  This time she knows it is Sami immediately: his thin figure and fast, forward-leaning walk are unmistakeable. He hurries to the fence that separates the field from the gardens around the house and, glancing around, swings a leg over it and darts inside. Eve knows she should find Lukas and tell him Sami is back, but something holds her back, and instead she just stands, staring after him at the dark shape of the house, the restless wind moving about her.