Nature of Ash, The

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Nature of Ash, The Page 17

by Hager, Mandy


  First thing I do is check Mikey, who’s hunched against my hip, still whimpering. He’s freaked, but there’s no obvious sign of injury, no blood. I shuffle round and work his blindfold off, while Trav does the same for Jiao. Once we can all see again, my blood pressure falls a tad. It’s truly hateful being blind.

  I lean down to study the tape around Mikey’s wrists. ‘I might be able to tear it with my teeth. I’ll give it a try, eh, mate?’

  His eyes are two dark holes beneath his brows. He’s way too quiet. Doesn’t even answer, just nods his head. I hope to god he’s not been mashed inside.

  I lie down behind him in a cloud of ammonia. His pants are sopping, and the tape’s soaked in piss as well. It’s the absolute pits. I start to gnaw, but achieve nothing except a clicking jaw. The whole process so disgusting I want to gag. But I try another tactic, using my front teeth to tear off tiny slivers of tape. Soon I’m on a roll, tearing and spitting, tearing and spitting. Worrying why Mikey’s so quiet.

  It feels like hours before I’ve weakened the tape enough. My teeth and jaws ache like hell. ‘Jeezus, Mikey, do some of the work. Pull your hands apart,’ I say. He flaps his arms a little, not even bloody trying. ‘Come on, you big fat fairy, put some frickin’ muscle in.’

  He growls like a cornered dog, but nothing more.

  ‘Mikey,’ Jiao says. ‘Please try.’ She uses a real tragic little-girl voice. Shuffles over and kisses him on the nose. ‘And please, once you’re free, could you save me too?’

  Mikey shoves forward that stubborn jaw of his and puts the pressure on. He strains some more. Is chuffing like a steam engine when, at last, he breaks the tape around his wrists and frees his hands. Halle-bloody-lujah! Within five minutes he’s released Jiao and she’s sorted both Trav and me.

  I try the doors, but it’s no surprise to find they’re locked. We’re stuck in here, four shit-scared sitting ducks.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  WITH NO CLUE AS TO WHERE we’re going or who our captors are, there’s no sensible explanation for what is happening or what the hell will happen next. If it’s something to do with Mum, why all the heavy shit? Or if it’s, say, some kind of opportunistic kidnap, surely it’s obvious none of us has any valuables? Though, just in case, I’ve stashed the cash from Erich in my undies. Fingers crossed they won’t be desperate enough to look there.

  The only thing it could be — and this scares the crap out of me — is some bigotry against Mikey or Jiao. But who even knew where we were? Unless it’s Bitchface. Yeah. She’s the one person who’s both mean and screwy enough to jack up a plan like this. Trouble is, that brings us to her dad again — and Mum. But why? Our theories go round and round in circles. The only thing we do agree on, once it’s clear Mikey is dozing, is that from now on we’ll refer to Mum as Grace. The poor little shit is confused enough without suddenly having a mother resurrected from the dead. The more we talk, the more I have a nagging sense that she’s the most obvious explanation for this charming little jaunt.

  We must have been in the truck for over an hour when we feel it slow, turn sharply, then come to a stop. I’m so terrified I can hardly breathe. But the engine’s still running and the vehicle soon starts moving again, though the motion has changed. It feels like we’re driving over grassland now, not on a road at all.

  Bloody hell. If they take us out and execute us here, no one will ever know.

  ‘We need a plan.’ I shift to try to give my aching butt a break. ‘As soon as they open the doors, they’ll know we’re free. We can’t just sit here waiting for the bastards to act — we have to get in first.’

  ‘We could jump them before they have time to react.’ Travis sounds unconvinced.

  Jiao snorts. ‘Yeah right. Then we could sprinkle fairy dust and fly away.’

  ‘Have you got a better idea?’

  ‘Cool it, guys. The last thing we need is to fight among ourselves. Maybe the first thing we need to do is agree on a place to meet if we get split up.’

  Travis jumps right in. ‘How the hell can we decide that when we don’t know where we are?’

  ‘Well, we’re within an hour or so of Monica’s camp, whatever the direction.’

  ‘Should we meet there?’ Jiao asks.

  I want to kiss her — no, not like that — but it’s nice to have a little support. ‘Nah, it’s too obvious. I’m thinking maybe worst-case scenario we meet back at the whale in Whanganui. Then we can leave messages with Erich if need be.’

  ‘That’s a bloody long way away,’ Travis says.

  ‘Well, I guess we could just roll over and die, mate. That’d be easy.’

  ‘Don’t shit on me. I’m only—’

  ‘For goodness’ sake.’ Jiao sighs like an impatient teacher. ‘The whale, okay? It’s decided. Now what do we do next?’

  I’m still struggling to come up with a decent answer when the truck bumps to a sudden stop. Our captors are opening their doors, and I’m clawing at my brain. How the hell do I deal with this? The back lock clicks and the doors fly open. A torch beam passes across our faces.

  ‘Clever bastards, eh?’ one of the men snarls. ‘Get out, grab your packs, and don’t try anything stupid.’

  I shake Mikey to get him going while the others scrabble around to gather up our gear. ‘Stick beside me,’ I whisper to him. ‘And don’t do anything unless I tell you.’ He doesn’t respond. No guarantees he’ll keep his mouth shut then.

  ‘Hurry up!’ We clamber out, clutching our packs to our chests like shields.

  ‘Follow me,’ the torchbearer says.

  We stumble after him across a field towards a stand of trees. There’s a faint light shining somewhere within. His mate follows behind us, his shotgun aimed right at our backs. It’s horribly like the climax to some slasher movie.

  ‘Don’t like it,’ Mikey says.

  ‘Me neither, mate. But I promise I’ll keep you safe.’

  ‘And Jow Jow?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. She’ll help as well.’

  ‘No. You keep Jow Jow safe.’

  ‘For sure.’ Hell, why not? And Travis too. Shit, I’ll take on the whole fucking planet. Just call me bloody Superman. But I grab hold of his hand as we’re led through the trees. The poor kid is shaking so hard, the tremors run down his arm and through to mine.

  Now we break into a clearing. There seems to be a whole collection of huts here, but it’s hard to see. There’s only the arc of torchlight and one lit hut. The men march us towards it and order us inside.

  It’s really basic: a kitchen in one corner with a dining table and six chairs, all ancient as hell. The two old sofas opposite are so threadbare the stringy stuffing’s spilling out, and patched curtains have been strung across doorframes to screen the rooms beyond. A kerosene lantern spills light across the table, and there’s a fire dying in a grate between the curtained doors. The room is empty, except for us and these two giant thugs.

  Arsehole One ushers us over to the sofas. ‘Sit.’

  We pile our packs at our feet and do as we’re told. My heart is thudding right up in my throat. It’s hard to breathe in deeply enough to retain any air. The two men draw out chairs from the table and sit facing us. The shotgun rests on Arsehole One’s knee. His finger strokes the trigger like it’s a woman’s face.

  Now they drag off their balaclavas. It doesn’t make things any better. Both men have shaved heads and are tattooed so densely it’s hard to pick out any defining features, except that both have bloody scary eyes. I want to run, but there’s no point. We’d all be dead before I took two steps.

  Arsehole Two points towards the curtained doorway to the left. ‘You’ll sleep in there. Don’t bother trying to escape — you’ll be guarded.’

  ‘What’s this all about?’ My voice sounds so soprano that heat swarms my face.

  ‘Wait!’ Arsehole One rises from his chair. ‘Sleep now. Talk tomorrow.’ He points the gun towards the curtained doorway. ‘Go through there.’

  We leap to our feet
and head for the curtain.

  ‘Ashy?’ Mikey pulls at my shirt. ‘Toilet.’

  ‘Hold on till morning.’

  ‘Now.’

  Oh Christ. I put my arm around his shoulder. ‘Mikey needs to take a leak.’

  Arsehole Two rolls his eyes. He crosses to the kitchen bench and chucks a pot at me so fast I have to push Mikey aside to catch it. ‘Use that.’ They bundle us through the doorway. Arsehole Two follows with his torch and lights a candle. The room contains a dresser and two decrepit sets of bunks. That’s all.

  I hand the pot to Mikey. ‘Sorry, matey, you’ll have to pee in this.’

  ‘Don’t want to.’ But he’s desperate, so we turn our backs until he’s done.

  Jiao nudges the brimming pot into the corner. We climb into our sleeping bags and I squeeze in beside Mikey on one of the lower bunks. It’s pitch black once the candle’s blown out, and the only noise is a faint crackling from the fireplace outside our door. I focus on Mikey, consciously willing him to settle. It seems to take a bloody age, but finally his breathing thickens and slows. I’m pretty sure Jiao and Trav are lying awake too, but if they’re feeling anything like me they’re too whacked (and freaked) to speak.

  My senses are on full alert, my brain bouncing from one thought to the next like a methed-up frog, when someone pulls the curtain aside. What the—? A torch beam flickers over each of us. I shut my eyes and lie completely still, sensing how the light lingers on Mikey and me. That’s her. Mum. I’d bet my bloody life on it. I’m working up the balls to open my eyes and confront the bitch when the light veers away. All I catch is a glimpse of greying curly hair before the torch clicks off. If that’s not her I’ll eat my own shit. God knows what’s going through her mind — but if she thinks I’m going to run into her open arms and forgive her, she’s more crazy than I thought.

  It’s weird, but now I’m fairly sure what’s going on — that it’s Mum and her Muru mates, not just random thugs — I’m ready to sleep. I mean, why else would they bring our gear? Why else would they send us off to bed? This, if I am right, is just a few total wankers playing testosterone games. I snuggle into Mikey’s back and match my breath to his …

  I startle out of sleep. The silvery dawn is spilling in through a small grimy window and the other three are lined up on the opposite bunk like hungry baby birds. Staring at me. ‘What?’

  Mikey rolls his eyes. ‘You sleep too long.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Jiao says. ‘But we thought it was better if we woke up early so they can’t catch us off-guard.’

  ‘I think Grace is here,’ I say. ‘Someone peeped in during the night.’

  ‘Grace?’ Mikey looks confused.

  ‘She’s an old friend of Dad’s.’

  Mikey scowls. ‘Not friend.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ I stretch and climb out of my sleeping bag. The room looks even shabbier in daylight, wallpaper peeling at the corners and mould oozing through the cracks. ‘Lucky they keep this place secret,’ I say, ‘otherwise everyone would want to stay here.’

  ‘A definite four stars,’ Travis sniggers. ‘And the shuttle service is free!’

  It’s strange that we’re able to joke in this way — nothing’s changed since last night. We’ve been abducted at gunpoint and no one in the world will even know we’re missing, let alone have a bloody clue where we are. And Mum’s presence guarantees nothing at all. She’s still potentially the enemy.

  ‘Listen, you guys, we need to—’

  A door bangs open. All of us leap to our feet. We stand, backs to the window, and wait for the curtain to swish back. Arsehole One fills the doorway. ‘Come here.’ He jerks his head and spins on his combat boots. Disappears into the other room.

  Jiao grabs one of Mikey’s hands and I reach for the other. We slip out through the curtain into the dingy main room. Arsehole One is sitting backwards on a chair, leaning his forearms on its wooden back, his legs spread wide as if his balls are so damn big he needs to give them extra space. The only positive is the apparent absence of the gun.

  We stand in a row in front of him, and he does the old head jerk again, indicating we should sit down on the sofa.

  ‘So,’ I say, swallowing down my nerves. ‘Who are you and what the hell is this about?’

  His eyebrow twitches. ‘I ask the questions here.’ His tone is razor sharp and slices my bravado to shreds. ‘What do you want with us?’

  It’s fucking true! It must be Mum. ‘Well, it would help if we knew who the hell you were before I answer that.’

  ‘I’m Ray. That’s all you need to know.’

  ‘So you’re Monica’s brother?’

  ‘I said that’s all you need to know.’ He kicks the chair away as he lunges to his feet. ‘Who sent you?’

  ‘No one sent us. You kidnapped us, remember? Why the hell did you do that, man? What the hell are you playing at?’ Jiao lays her hand on my arm. She gives her head a tiny shake. I know, I know. I shouldn’t wind him up. ‘Look, I’m Ashley McCarthy and I’m trying to find Grace. That’s all.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Oh, for god’s sake. Our father’s dead, okay? I just want to see what she looks like. I’ve only just discovered she’s alive.’

  ‘How do I know you’re not lying?’

  My hands bunch into fists. I don’t give a toss if he’s Mr Big, I swear I’m going to smack his gob. What kind of arsehole does this to his girlfriend’s grieving kids? ‘Fuck you,’ I say. I snatch up my pack. ‘Come on, guys, I’m not taking this shit.’

  ‘Ashley, wait!’ A woman bursts through the other curtain. It’s Mum. Older, and really mangy round the edges — in fact, a bloody mess — but it’s definitely her. She still looks like me. All the hairs on my arms and neck rise up. It truly is like looking at a decomposing ghost.

  Mikey must sense my tension. He growls under his breath. Mum holds out her arms to me in welcome. I don’t move.

  ‘So it’s true,’ I say.

  It dawns on Mum I’m not about to do the big Hollywood reunion thing and her arms drop to her sides. ‘Please,’ she says. ‘Sit down.’ Her teeth are brown with rot.

  ‘What the hell was last night about? Your dodgy friends nearly terrified us to death.’

  Mum glances at Ray. ‘We have to be careful …’

  ‘Yeah right. We’re obviously sooo threatening.’

  ‘Don’t disrespect your mother, you smart-arse little shit,’ Ray breaks in. ‘There’s lots of bastards after us and they’ll try anything—’

  ‘Oh, right. Like they’d blow up Dad and wait for me to track you here. Good plan.’ As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I nearly bloody choke. Fuck. What if that’s true? What if the whole thing’s been a set-up? We’re well and truly buggered if that’s the case.

  I feel sick.

  Mum runs her fingers through her ratty hair. ‘Please, sit down, Ashley. Let me make you all a cup of tea. I know this is a shock.’

  I don’t know what to think. I mean, now I look back it’s all been pretty smooth sailing: Jeannie conveniently losing those threatening notes — or so she said — then dead keen to get us out of town. Lucinda giving me the rough location. That guy Simon who picked us up — he admitted he’d been sent to find us. Even good old Erich led us straight to Monica … Could they all be in on this? I glance over at Jiao, hoping she can somehow reassure me, but she looks as freaked as me.

  At least Mikey seems oblivious to the subtleties of what’s going on. He’s squirming on the other side of me, glowering like a grumpy Neanderthal. He probably needs his early morning piss, like me.

  ‘Is there such a thing as a real toilet here?’ I ask.

  Mum turns back from sorting cups and glances at Ray. He nods his head. ‘There’s a long-drop around the back. Follow the path,’ she says.

  We all rise at once and make for the door, which obviously worries Ray, because he follows us out. There are six or seven other huts like this one spread round the clearing, and a couple of snotty b
lond-haired toddlers are chasing chickens in a patch of sun. We wander behind the hut, into the trees, locating the long-drop by the gut-churning sickly-sweet smell. Ray stays at a distance, leaning against a tree to wait.

  ‘You go first,’ I tell Mikey.

  ‘It stinks,’ he says.

  ‘Just hold your breath, mate. It’s the best you’re going to get.’

  ‘I’ll go first,’ Jiao says, though I can see by the grim set of her mouth what it costs her.

  I’m the last of us to go in. And it’s like a lucky escape from death, the feeling that sweeps over me when I reemerge into fresh air. How can these people live like this? That loo is about the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.

  There’s no sign of the others, but Ray is still there, waiting to escort me back. He’s standing near something like an old decaying dog kennel. I hope like hell it doesn’t house a real dog — the floor is dirt, the roof so rotted there are seedlings sprouting through the holes.

  I go to slink past him, refusing to meet his eye, but he steps out in front of me, forcing me to stop. ‘If you betray us I will come after you, family or not.’

  ‘Why would I do that when you’ve made us feel so welcome?’ I elbow past him.

  He grabs me by the shoulder, his grip like steel pincers. ‘You know nothing, boy. You think this is a game?’

  I shake him off, but the imprint of his hand still burns as I return inside. A game? How dare he? I’ve seen my father’s shredded corpse, I’m stuck caring for Mikey for life, and now I’m trying to save Jiao’s parents. What a jerk.

  But he’s not finished. He thunders after me and stops me just before I reach the door. ‘If you upset Grace, you’ll only have yourself to blame. I’m warning you.’

  I meet his arsehole eyes. ‘Wow. Thanks for the tip, Uncle Ray.’

  I duck inside.

  Mum’s laid out mugs of tea on the table and is slicing a loaf of homemade bread. I join the others as they sort powdered milk and sugar, and sneak a look at Mum.

  Her hands are dry and wrinkled, her nails chewed down so far the skin is clearly infected — and she’s got the bloody cheek to wear a wedding band. Now there’s a joke. Her hair is more grey than blonde now, so thinned out several scabby sores show through, and her eyes have faded to watery tea. She’s as skinny and weathered as Grandma, and there’s a nervousness about her — a furtiveness and distractedness — like she’s hearing things that no one else can. If I’d walked past her in the street, would I have recognised her? Hell no — in fact, I’d probably cross the street. But somehow I’d have known her. It’s weird. It’s like all those little fingers of memory that were cut off when she left are reaching out again to span the gaps. I’m not sure I want them to. I’d rather save room for memories of Dad. Stuff her.

 

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