Nature of Ash, The

by Hager, Mandy

  ‘Forget it,’ she spits. ‘You think I’d—’

  I reach over and grab her by the collar. Drag her across the counter towards me so I’m right up in her snitty face. ‘Don’t give me that! Travis is in hospital — god knows if he’ll live — Mikey’s been abducted, and your psycho father’s got—’

  She slaps my face. Reeling, I let her go. It takes me a second to tune in to what she’s saying.

  ‘Leave me alone! Why do you think I’m living here with Aunty Mo? They’ve already fucked over my life. If they suspect I’d sided with you, they’ll kill me, no questions asked.’

  It’s Jiao who is the calm one yet again. ‘Don’t you see we’re on the same side, then? They tried to kill us too.’ She takes a step closer. ‘Listen, Ana, you look like a good person—’

  How she can say this with a straight face I’ll never know, but it seems to work — Ana’s shoulders lower.

  ‘You must understand why we can’t just walk away when they’re holding an innocent kid hostage. Think how scared he’ll be. Imagine how he’ll feel.’ She offers Ana her hand to shake. ‘Please, let’s start again. I’m Jiao. Let’s put this right. I’m sure if Monica was here she’d agree.’

  Ana stares at Jiao’s blood-smeared hand. Looks from her to me. Then she drops her hand limply into Jiao’s and they shake. ‘Coffee, then?’ We all sit down awkwardly together as one of the girls brews our coffee. My nerves are shot. My life is shot. Hell, Trav is shot. Tick tock, tick tock …

  ‘Okay,’ Jiao says, taking the lead again. ‘Maybe you should start from the beginning.’

  ‘All right,’ says Ana. ‘So here’s the short version. I went to live with Dad when I was six. My mum already had me and the three other kids — they have a different father — but when she got pregnant to her latest boyfriend he wanted us to go.’

  Jeez, I’m already feeling bad for her. ‘Where’s your mother now?’

  ‘Her new boyfriend killed her when the baby turned out like your brother. Stabbed them both to death.’ A terrible silence builds around us. No wonder she’s so aggro towards Mikey. ‘That’s when I went to live with Dad. At first I thought Grace would protect me, but then I learnt.’

  ‘Learnt?’ Jiao prompts.

  ‘That she’s fucking crazy. That sometimes she acts like everything’s sweet and then she’ll go all mental. Dad and his creepy friends treat her like shit. One time early on she tried to run away and take me too — he beat her up so bad she couldn’t see properly, or eat, for weeks. It’s made her even crazier. And mean. So mean. She never stood up for me again — joined right in to prove that she was on his side.’

  ‘Why the hell does she stay?’

  ‘I told you — she’s crazy. Besides, he keeps her hooked on meth. And tells her lies to feed her paranoia.’

  It all slots into place now. The rotting teeth. The scabs. The hair loss. The restless, freaked-out air. ‘Why?’

  ‘Muru needs her, she’s expert at helping plan their raids.’

  ‘Mum’s one of the brains behind Muru?’

  ‘Nah, not the brains — there’s these guys from overseas who call the shots. It’s just she’s good at doing what she’s told — Dad makes sure.’

  ‘Then what the hell is Muru? I always thought it was some kind of separatist Maori thing.’ Tick tock. Tick tock.

  ‘According to Aunty Mo, in the old days it was an anti-colonisation, anti-globalisation thing. But then these foreign dudes slowly took over. She reckons they kept the name so Maori will get the blame.’

  ‘Who are they, then?’ I picture those two guys in the camouflage gear and shades we saw with Ray. Bets on that’s them.

  ‘They talk like State-siders. Aunty Mo’s convinced they’re spies.’

  State-siders? So they’re aligned to the WA? This whole thing keeps getting even more surreal.

  ‘Who do they target with their raids?’ Jiao asks.

  ‘Basically they set up people they don’t like. Punish some. Destroy others. Make people do or give them what they want. They’re really bloody secretive but I know they have some contacts in the government and really hate the UPR.’ She sips her coffee, careful not to meet Jiao’s gaze. ‘Dad says they’re on the side of justice — but Aunty Mo says they’re a bunch of low-life thugs.’

  ‘How do they support themselves?’

  ‘The State-siders have access to heaps of money. Weapons and explosives too. And they keep them flush with meth.’ She snorts derisively. ‘It’s meth that makes your mother so psycho.’

  All I can do is nod. You don’t have to be a drug expert to know it turns a pussy cat into a tiger in one hit. ‘Please, you have to tell us how to find them. God knows what she’ll do to Mikey.’

  Ana looks down at her hands. Her nails are bitten right down to the quick and there’s a scar on her wrist. Perfectly round. A cigarette burn. ‘They’ll know it’s me who’s blabbed.’

  ‘What if you say we forced you?’ Jiao says. ‘We do have guns.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Please,’ I say again. ‘Mikey won’t understand what the hell is going on. And even if he does manage to get away, he’ll end up in the middle of nowhere, totally freaked. We have to find him.’ I feel like I’m going to erupt. ‘I don’t trust Mum not to hurt him — or worse.’

  Ana nods. She draws in a deep breath. ‘Oh shit. Okay.’ She walks over to the counter and comes back with a tourist map and black felt pen. Starts to mark out the route, writing neat notes along the side to help. When she’s finished, she pushes it towards me but doesn’t let it go. ‘Promise when you’re nearly there you’ll destroy this. If Dad or Grace find it, they’ll know it’s me.’

  ‘I promise.’ She releases the map and I pick it up. Study it as carefully as panic and impatience will allow. ‘Thanks,’ I say, ‘but I have one more favour. If we haven’t come back through within a couple of days, ask Monica to ring and tell this person everything she can.’ I hand her over Jeannie’s card.

  Ana stows it behind the counter straight away, as if she can’t bear to have it near. I turn to the other girls, who are whispering over by the food, and put on my best mafia impersonation. ‘If either of you blab anything we’ll come back and deal to you. Understand?’ They nod their heads so hard out, I laugh, kind of hysterical. ‘Okay, we’re off.’ I offer Ana my hand. ‘Thank you. And I’m really sorry for what you went through.’

  ‘Good luck finding your brother. I’m sorry I was so—’

  ‘Forget it. I’m sorry too. I’ve been just as bad at jumping to conclusions.’ My eyes meet Jiao’s, and I give her a little nod to say this message is meant for her as well. ‘You ready?’

  Now the rain has stopped, it’s so much easier to drive back along the gravel road. The moisture’s dampened the dust down too, so we’ll be harder to spot if anyone from the Muru compound is on the road as well. Jiao has the map and tells me where and when to turn, but mostly we try to plan out what the hell to do. Like how we check if Mikey’s there without getting caught.

  ‘What do you reckon they’ll do when they find out we’re still alive?’

  ‘Dunno,’ Jiao says. ‘Maybe we should wait until dark.’

  ‘Why would we do that? We haven’t even got a torch. And no idea where Mikey might be kept.’

  ‘No, I mean check things out before then, but not actually take him till it’s dark. It might give us a longer head start to get away.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Everything’s so bloody hypothetical — we don’t even know if he’s there or if he’s still alive. My head’s so full of shit, it’s impossible to think straight. Who the hell is driving Muru? What the hell is going on?

  I have to hand it to Ana — her map is so precise we have no problems finding the ‘Trespassers will be shot’ sign. I slow the car right down and we peer across the paddocks towards the stand of trees. Their truck is there! Thank god. Though it means they didn’t even bother hanging round — just sent us on our death mission and headed home while someone else
pushed the button to blow us up. There aren’t enough swear words in the entire English language to cover such a sick, sick act. Or to describe how much I hate them. I swear to god I’ll go down fighting, that’s for sure.

  I keep driving down the road a kilometre or two while we decide what to do. In the end we turn around and cruise until we find an unlocked gate. Drive through and tuck the car behind a gangly patch of gorse, then tear Ana’s map into tiny pieces and bury it inside a decaying tree stump. Now we make our way across the paddocks, climbing the interlinking fences until the truck’s in sight. Work our way around towards it, creeping like big cats on the savannah, low to the ground and every sense on high alert. We reach the truck. Edge up and check it’s empty, then try the doors. Unlocked. No sign of Mikey, but all our gear’s inside. Halle-bloody-lujah. Now we have a torch!

  I suggest we haul the most important stuff back to the car — even though it’ll take up precious time. But when we start to sort out what to take or leave, we strike a problem: Jiao won’t desert her books. I try to argue but she’s adamant, her face reverting to that stubborn mask. In the end we take it all, a real bloody nightmare without Mikey to help. But Jiao’s placated. She says her books are her best friends.

  After a quick breather we approach the truck again, then skirt around the trees, hoping to enter the compound roughly where we think the long-drop might be. With any luck, its smell will lead the way.

  I don’t think I’ve been more nervous in my life. Identifying Dad was bad enough, but now my heart’s beating so hard and fast it hurts. It’s difficult to breathe, and every muscle in my body screams with strain.

  We pick our way through the mix of scrubby bush, stopping every two or three steps to scan for movement and listen out for danger. The birds are bloody deafening, their noise pissing me off until it clicks they’re working in our favour, helping to mask the sound of our footsteps. Then, about ten minutes in, Jiao signals, pinching her nose. Points through the trees. And there it is: the long-drop. I never thought I’d be so pleased to see the stinking thing again.

  Now we know exactly where we are, we hunker down. ‘You stay here,’ I say. ‘I’ll go and check in through the windows.’

  ‘Remember he could be in any of the huts.’

  ‘We have to start somewhere.’ I check my phone, hoping for some miraculous return of signal. No such luck. ‘Listen, if I’m not back in twenty minutes, go back to the car and wait. Then, if I’m still not back after another half an hour, get the hell out.’

  ‘I’m not leaving you behind.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no point in us all—’

  Jiao clamps her hand across my mouth. ‘Shut up. I can think for myself, okay? Just go.’

  I peel her hand away. ‘Ever since I can remember, I’ve wished Mikey was normal — someone I could really do things with and call a friend.’ I don’t know why I’m saying this now, but it’s welling up inside me and I can’t stop. ‘But you know what? I realise now that’s what he’s always been. I wouldn’t swap him for some boring normal brother after all. He’s far too cool.’

  ‘Be careful then,’ Jiao says through a watery smile. ‘Mikey needs to hear that for himself.’ She pushes me off balance, forcing me up to my feet.

  I edge my way forward, tree by tree. Can hear distant voices — and maybe a radio. Definitely kids. I’m parallel with the well-worn track when I spot the rusty iron of the hut. My heart ping-pongs like frenzied fleas. Have to breathe. In, out. In, out. Tick tock. Creep towards the window of the bunkroom where we slept. He has to be in here, surely? I’m crouched below the window now, straining to hear if anyone’s inside. Nothing. Slowly raise myself up, until the ledge is just above me. I ease another centimetre higher. Can see the top bunk. Empty. Higher now. No! There’s no one there.

  Now comes the tricky part. I work my way around the other side of the hut, towards the window of the room with all the guns. Ease up again. God damn. No one inside. I squat down on my haunches, gathering up the nerve to go back round and try the kitchen window. The trouble is, the next-door hut is closer on that side, way more exposed. I don’t know what to do.

  As I’m mustering the courage to make a move I hear a whimper. I scan about frantically, confused. I swear it sounds like Mikey — though it could be my wishful thinking is starting to play tricks. I creep a little to the left, into the trees.

  There’s the old decaying kennel there, filthy and half falling down. I work my way towards it, alert to every sound.

  Jeezus. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it sure as hell’s not this. Poor bloody Mikey. If there was ever any doubt, it’s gone. I’m going to kill the bitch.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  MIKEY’S STUFFED INSIDE THE KENNEL like a sow into a crate. His hands are tied behind his back but, even worse, he’s trussed around the neck as well. A slipknot. He’s tethered to the wood so if he tries to get away the rope will tighten like a noose.

  Everything shrinks down to the point of worst insult — the chafed skin around his neck. The edges of my vision blur to red while white noise shrieks inside my ears. Have to save him. Have to get him as far away from these heartless bastards as we can go.

  His eyes are shut, his mouth hanging open as flies preen on his tide-marked lips. I can’t tell if he’s breathing, and I’m too bloody chicken to find out. What if that whimper was his last? I need Jiao. Don’t think I can face another corpse alone.

  I find her crouched behind the clump of bracken, her gun drawn and ready to fire. ‘Put that away,’ I whisper. ‘I’ve found him. Need your help.’

  Her eyes are freaked. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ I say. ‘You’re not going to fucking believe it.’ It’s all I can bring myself to say. Any more and I might crack. I take her hand.

  As we approach the kennel I feel her bristle at my side. Her free hand shoots up to her mouth. ‘How could they do that?’

  By this point I don’t care that we’re out in the open. The bastards have done their worst. We squat down beside him and I look him over, careful not to startle him. There’s an ugly bruise on his temple, and he bloody stinks. Must’ve shit his pants, then been left in them. If that bitch was here right now …

  ‘Mikey.’ I press my hand to his forehead. ‘It’s me. It’s okay now.’ His skin is clammy to my touch. But warm. Thank god he’s warm.

  He snuffles in a breath and opens one eye. It’s a long time before the other follows. The bastards must have drugged him — probably that damn hot chocolate, now I think about it. I’ll bet the little gannet guzzled twice as much as us. He licks his lips with a patchy grey tongue.

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘No, matey, it’s me. Ash. Jiao’s here too.’

  ‘Hey, Mikey,’ she says. ‘We’re going to get you out now. Take you home. But you have to be really quiet. Okay?’

  She reaches in and starts to untie his hands. Frees them while I wrestle with the ropes around his neck. He just lies there, staring up at Jiao like she’s an angel of deliverance while she whispers random shit to keep him calm.

  He’s so bloody out of it he doesn’t even move when he’s released. We have to coax him out, a little at a time. I can’t bear to think of what it must have taken to squeeze him in. His track pants are pasted to his arse by shit, his shoes nowhere to be seen. Damn it. He’s going to be pissed as hell they’ve gone.

  We get on each side of him and guide him back the way we came. It’s a nightmare: he’s so ga-ga he can’t even coordinate his feet. We have to lug him like a crashtest dummy.

  I want revenge. Slow, gory, excruciating revenge.

  It takes a bloody age to get back to the car. Hefting him over fences. Cajoling him to move. Panting to diffuse the smell. He says nothing. I never thought I’d miss his yabber, but this freaks me more. By the time we get him there, we’re drenched in sweat. We have to wrestle hard to get him in and lie him on the back seat, on top of Trav’s dried blood. I jolly him to sip bottled water to wet hi
s mouth. The poor little sod can hardly keep his eyes open — whatever they’ve given him has written him off. I hope to god it’s not toxic.

  Need to get him help. But first I have some business.

  ‘I’m going back,’ I say to Jiao. ‘As Dad would say: have gun, will use.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ she says. ‘Let’s get as far away as possible before they notice he’s gone.’

  ‘I can’t. It’ll eat away at me for ever if I don’t confront them.’ I can’t believe I sound like this — feel like this — but I’m stuck inside my own private horror movie and there’s only one way it can end. The baddies have to die. That’s how it is in horror-movie land. I have no choice.

  I drive the car out to the road and park it by the sign at the gate. While Jiao climbs into the back seat with Mikey I run back across the paddocks, driven by such a whirlwind of rage it wipes away all other thought. Just before I go in through the trees, I look back at the truck. Hang on. Why not shoot a couple of the tyres to slow them down? That will still leave four bullets. And the noise will draw them out. It’s bloody perfect.

  I take aim, holding the gun with both hands, shaking like a bastard. Brace myself, ready to take flight. Pull the trigger.

  Click. I try again. And again. Stand here firing without bullets.

  I should’ve bloody guessed. They lied about that too. Set us up so we’d believe we had protection when we had no chance. Their sheer cold-blooded evil disgusts me.

  I hurl the gun, shattering the windscreen with a satisfying crack. They’ve screwed my one chance for revenge. I might’ve risked a shoot-out, but I’m not so bloody stupid as to go unarmed. Fuck them. Damn them to hell.

  By the time I reach the gate I’m so volcanic I can barely speak. I slam the car into gear and wheelie off. Within seconds we have to open all the windows, the smell made worse by the humidity that’s set in since the rain. But after about twenty minutes my adrenaline shuts off like a tap. I feel shit. I’m shaking again, the awful implications sinking in. She never planned to help us. Must have known right from the start that Ray meant us harm. I’m almost glad Dad’s dead so he’ll never know the depths of her betrayal. I mean, I always knew humans could be monsters — just never thought one of them would be her.