‘Whistle when the coast is clear, or if you’re in danger. Either way I’ll come,’ said Mattie. He nodded at Streak. ‘I’ll wait near the gate. You stay here with the kids until I give you a signal. Give them something to eat and keep them quiet.’
He passed over what looked like a small, black gun. Streak shoved it in his back pocket before opening his backpack.
‘Look at what we’ve got here, kids,’ he whispered. The kids shuffled towards him and then plonked themselves down on the dried grass.
I pulled my hair into a knot and drew the hood of Luke’s dead wife’s jacket over my head. As I walked through the rusted front gate that squeaked, I could hear Streak saying, ‘One for you, and one for you and two for me,’ at which Petra and Sammy giggled.
My pulse zipped along so fast I couldn’t discern a beat, just an overall whoosh. Every muscle in my body felt taut and ready to spring into action as I took careful, slow steps towards the faded old federation style house. I kept my hands by my side, my hands flexing in and out of fists as I eyed the peeling front door.
A window slid open, and I dropped to the ground beneath a shrub, my palms in the air.
Through foliage, I watched as the end of a shotgun slid out of the window to rest against the sill.
‘Don’t shoot!’ I shouted, my voice echoing across the dusky silence. A bird twittered in response. I bracing myself, eyes closed for the shot, and slowly got to my feet. ‘I’m a friend of Patrick’s.’
There was a scuffle, then footsteps, as somebody hurried across wooden floorboards.
The front door swung open.
‘Lena!’
Chapter 19
‘Mum?’ I put my hands to my head and shook it from side to side. ‘What are you doing here?’
My mother passed the shotgun to somebody standing in the shadows behind her and stepped out onto the veranda.
So she had known Patrick’s father well. There was no other explanation for her being here.
We stared each other out for what seemed like forever before she came down the veranda steps and walked the brick path towards me.
‘I’ve been worried sick, Lena. You could have gotten yourself killed and I wouldn’t have known,’ she said, hesitating about a metre in front of me, as though waiting for me to come to her.
I remained rooted to the ground, unable to bring myself to take that extra step.
‘Are the boys okay?’ I asked. ‘I’m here to look after them until Patrick gets back.’ If he gets back, my brain screamed. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘You’re alone?’ she asked, without bothering to explain how or why she came to be at Patrick’s house.
‘No. I’m not alone. Patrick isn’t here, but I have two children and two men with me.’
Mum narrowed her gaze and scanned the trees behind me. ‘Where are they?’
‘Waiting for my signal,’ I said.
‘What sort of cowardly men sent you out here first?’ I didn’t like the way she emphasised ‘you’ as though I wasn’t worthy of the task I’d been set.
‘Mum. I’m not here to argue with you. I’m here to check on Patrick’s brothers.’
She sighed and stared at my face for a long time.
‘So where is Patrick? And how do you know him?’
‘You should know, seeing as you know the family so well,’ I said, unable to keep my voice from trembling.
I checked over her shoulders to make sure nobody was behind her and motioned with my hand for her to come away from the house. She must have seen the look on my face and guessed what I was going to say because she quickly moved to my side.
‘Patrick came to our house looking for his father, who went missing the night you shot that man…’ I paused to swallow. ‘I met him at the fence and we agreed to meet again. He asked me to help look for his dad.’
Mum’s eyes darkened and her face paled. With trembling hands she wiped a stray lock of dark hair out of her eyes and started pacing.
‘Gerald. It was Gerald,’ she said, pausing to stare into space, her voice soft in memory. ‘He was the man I shot that night.’
Tears pooled in her eyes and she wiped them away and continued pacing up and down the garden path.
‘I know, Mum. It was easy to put two and two together.’
For a long moment we said nothing, each of us silently acknowledging the dark and ugly truth. But I needed answers.
‘Why did you kill him?’ I finally asked.
Mum stopped pacing and rubbed at her eyes.
‘He’d been attacked that night.’ She sniffed and wiped her nose against her forearm. ‘Beaten up badly, but he was still alive. He said the men who’d beaten him were Carriers and that their blood and his had mixed.’ Her face screwed up, but she sucked in a deep breath through her nose and continued. ‘He asked me to help him. I was about to drop my gun and run for the first aid kit, but he didn’t want that sort of help.’
An icy chill seeped into my bones. I knew what she was about to say and suddenly I didn’t want to know the gory details.
‘Mum…’ I said, glancing towards the house, worried the kids might hear, but she cut me off.
‘You need to hear this, Lena. You need to know what sort of sacrifices people make in this life for the ones they love.’
I sucked in a deep breath of cool air, my eyes never leaving Mum’s.
‘He wanted me to shoot him. So that he didn’t infect his sons — or me or you. Gerald was a good man. He sacrificed himself for his children and for us.’
I blinked back tears and shook my head. Patrick and Markus were probably dead by now.
‘Why didn’t you say something to me? We could have avoided all of this and gone straight here to help the kids.’
Mum chewed on her pinkie nail before answering. ‘I shot a man, Lena, a man I loved. It just about ripped me in two.’
The same bird from earlier began to sing a beautiful melody, at odds with the sadness I was feeling right now.
It suddenly hit home that Mum had done the bravest, hardest and most difficult thing anybody could be asked to do. ‘I’m sorry you had to shoot him. It must have been awful.’
Mum nodded and wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the ground. This was the time for me to be strong, to take that step across the great divide between us and give her the hug she needed.
‘Poor, sweet Gerald,’ she whispered.
‘You helped him, Mum. You saved him from hurting anybody else.’ I reached out and tentatively patted her on the arm and she took a small step toward me.
Just as I was about to curl into her, someone whistled from behind.
‘Oh, I forgot to let the others know it’s safe.’
I pressed my thumb and forefinger against my tongue and blew. The singing bird took flight.
Mattie whistled in reply and I waved my arm back and forth at the trees beside the rainwater tank, assuring them that all was okay.
‘Are you certain these strangers are safe? I promised Gerald I’d look after his kids, Lena. I don’t take that promise lightly.’
‘They’re okay. And they aren’t Carriers, so you don’t need to ask them.’
Mum looked like she wanted to say plenty, but instead she bit her tongue — a first — and wiped her face dry before coming to stand beside me.
We watched Mattie and Streak, each carrying a child, tentatively walk the garden path towards us.
The front door opened and out stepped a boy, and then another and another until six boys, each slightly shorter than the other, stood the length of the veranda, looking like various sized replicas of each other.
‘Who’s that boy?’ the smallest, who looked about six years old, asked my mother, his eyes fixed on me.
The oldest boy, James, gave the little one a stern glare and shook his head before raising his eyebrows at me apologetically. He reminded me of Patrick so much that I was caught between wanting to smile and wanting to cry, because right now Patrick and Markus’ broken bodie
s could be lying on the dirt somewhere beneath the stars.
‘She’s a girl!’ said Petra as she marched up the path, her little hands resting on bony hips. ‘She is growing her hair and it’s going to be down to here.’ She gestured to her tailbone. Sammy trailed his sister closely, watching the long line of boys with wide, dark eyes.
‘Who cares,’ the kid said, puffing his chest out and staring at Petra like he wanted to punch her in the mouth for talking. James, again, widened his eyes at me in apology and then slapped his little brother behind the head.
Something rustled in the nearby bush and a familiar yapping sound met my ears before a blur of dusty orange rushed at me.
‘No way,’ I whispered.
I fell back as Charlotte dove on top of me and pinned me down, licking my face with her warm, rancid-smelling tongue. I laughed and rolled to my feet, stroking her soft belly with my palms. And that’s when I remembered Emma — back at the barracks.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
It shocked me that I’d forgotten. I’d have to go back for her as soon as possible. There was just the problem of how and when, now that I had a thousand eyes on me.
‘This is my daughter, Lena, the one I was telling you all about.’
I stood there, smiling at each of Patrick’s brothers, trying to appear as friendly and as approachable as possible. They stared at me with part curious and part bewildered gazes, as though the past few weeks had flipped them so many new things they didn’t know what to believe in or what to care about anymore. The stable ground had been ripped from under their feet. I wasn’t sure how I was going to tell them about Patrick and Markus.
‘Hi,’ I said.
‘Hi,’ said the tallest, stepping down the veranda. ‘I’m James.’
I smiled.
Mattie and Streak introduced themselves to Mum. It was weird seeing Mum around other people. I’d never seen her interact before. She gave them different sort of smiles from the ones she gave me.
‘And what are your names?’ She asked Petra and Sammy, her voice soft and sweet, a tone I hadn’t heard in so many years.
They stared at her with wide, blue eyes — Luke’s eyes.
‘This is my mum,’ I said, kneeling down so that I could be on their level. ‘Her name is Alexandra.’
‘But you can call me Alex,’ said Mum, she glanced up at Streak and Mattie, who couldn’t seem to take their eyes off my mum, and added, ‘It’s getting dark. Let’s move inside and after you’ve all had something to eat and drink you can have a rest.’ She turned to me. ‘Then you and I will talk and you can tell me where you’ve been the past two weeks.’
‘Have you seen Patrick?’ James asked. I looked at Mum and then at Mattie. Mum nodded and looked at me in a way that said, ‘stick with the truth’. She moved to stand beside James. One of the boys, who looked about eleven years old, came to stand between them, taking Mum’s hand into his. Mum stroked the boy’s hair. I was surprised by her maternal instincts and the fact that the boys responded so well to her.
‘Yes,’ I said to James, holding his green-grey eyes steady with mine. ‘He’s my friend. He asked me to come and visit with you while he’s away.’
‘Where is he?’ the younger one cut in. The other boys had come down from the veranda to listen.
Great — this was going to be difficult. A bead of sweat slid down my back.
‘Did you see those aeroplanes?’ The boys nodded. ‘Well, Patrick has gone with some other men…’
‘Soldiers,’ Mattie interjected.
‘Men and soldiers,’ I rephrased, throwing him a glare. ‘To see who the visitors are.’
‘Can we go have a look too?’ The second oldest said, and little Sammy, his eyes transfixed on the older boy, nodded with a newfound bravery and looked at me as though wanting me to say ‘yes, let’s all go and meet the visitors’.
‘How about everybody go and get a wash while we set the table,’ said Mum. ‘Thomas, I think it’s your turn to help.’ Thomas groaned but complied. Mum ruffled James’ sun-kissed brown hair. ‘James, you’re going to help me plate up.’
James nodded, but his face reddened and he shuffled his feet. ‘We don’t have enough,’ he whispered to Mum when he thought we were too far to hear.
She looked at us all. ‘I ate while out hunting earlier so I’m not that hungry. We’ll share what we have between you eleven. ‘Come on, chop chop, boys.’
James sighed heavily and rolled his eyes behind my mum’s back. I had to hide a smile behind my hand. It was like watching a male version of me.
Mattie watched Mum with a sparkle in his eyes, and Streak kept stretching his neck to see into the kitchen. I could tell he was itching to cook something.
After a noisy dinner, during which I managed to confuse the boys’ names about twenty times, Streak and I put the kids to bed on a single mattress in Gerald and his wife’s old bedroom, beside the double bed.
Mum planned to have me sleep with her in that bed, but after the house was quiet and all the boys had gone to sleep — including Streak and Mattie, who were wrapped up in sleeping bags on the lounge room floor — I grew antsy and couldn’t sit still, let alone lie down.
‘I’m going out, Mum.’
Mum was tucking Peter Rabbit, who’d rolled out onto the cold wooden floor, back in with a sleeping Sammy.
‘Going where?’ She turned to me, her wide eyes filled with incredulousness. The floor creaked beneath her feet as she came to sit beside me on the bed. The mattress squeaked.
I winced, ready for a good ear flogging and threats to lock me up, but none came.
A long breath whistled through my teeth.
‘Emma is still at the barracks. I forgot her in all the rush, with the planes exploding over our heads. I have to go back.’
She sat perfectly still, letting my words sink in.
‘Take Mattie,’ she said, surprising me again, but I shook my head.
‘He’s strong and trained to fight. You need him here to protect all the children, including these two,’ I said, staring down at Petra and Sammy with an ache in my chest. ‘They’ll need an extra familiar face around when they wake up.’
Mum sighed. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, if you need to do this, then go now, while it’s dark. I’ll give you my shotgun.’
‘I don’t want it. I’m better with my knife.’
‘These people — the visitors — might have guns and who the hell knows what else.’
‘The planes were blown up, Mum, so even a gun would be useless with whatever it is these visitors have. I just have to rely on being unseen, that’s all. The barracks are unmanned now. There’d be no reason for anyone to be there. Luke and his men have gone out to meet the visitors. I’ll be well out of anybody’s range.’
Mum snorted. ‘You’ve survived these couple of weeks without me, so I guess I’m going to have to trust you’ll be okay. But if you’re not back by dawn, then I’m coming for you.’
Something warm touched my hand and I looked down to see Mum’s hand. I turned mine palm up and linked my fingers with hers.
‘I’m sorry I left Desert Downs…and you…like that.’
Mum looked at me sideways and shrugged. ‘It was going to happen one day, I was just prolonging it. I didn’t want to lose you like Alice. You might not believe it, but I loved her like she was my own.’
I nodded, unable to speak, my throat so thick no words would come.
Mum wiped her face and started packing my backpack with a change of clothes, a torch, and her knife. ‘It’s getting late,’ she said before she paused and held my picture of Jeffery C between her fingers. ‘What’s this?’
I shrugged. ‘A picture I kept from one of Alice’s magazines.’
Mum smiled. ‘Jeffery Chance,’ she whispered. ‘I remember your father and I watched a film of his once.’ Her eyes shone bright with the memory when they met mine.
‘You were in my belly and wouldn’t stop kicking that night. I drank too much cola at t
he cinema.’
I smiled, enjoying the mental image. ‘So I’ve been to the movies, then.’
She chuckled and wiped her eyes, handing back the picture. I carefully folded it and tucked him into my front pocket for luck, beside Sapphire’s gemstone and my knife. I shoved my slingshot into my back pocket and was ready to go.
The pack was light on my back, even after Mum had added a cooked potato, still warm in its skin from the coals — a leftover from Petra’s plate because she had been too busy arguing with the youngest of the boys to eat all of her dinner.
Careful not to wake the litter of sleeping bodies on the floor, I let the front door click shut behind me and set off for the barracks.
There was a full white moon, but strangely enough the sky was lit up in an eerie, electric blue light. To the north, there was a halo of the same blue light just over the horizon, calling to mind Jonny’s words about what he’d seen a couple of months ago and reminding me of what I’d seen in the sky a couple of weeks ago.
Distant sounds, like small pops of thunder, exploded from the blue horizon and I pictured Patrick behind my eyes, falling to the ground and increased my pace.
A few hours passed before I came upon the barracks. Just the sight of it quickened my pulse. It had the hollow appearance and empty vibrations of a ghost town.
I approached the area in a permanent crouch, the skin on my arms prickling with goose bumps. I passed the sheds and though they were now hollow, the chilling screams of the Carriers still rang in my head, making my stomach clench.
Several whimpers started to my left and I saw the black shapes of the mongrels huddled together in the dark. Why weren’t they barking like they normally did? Were they hurt? A prickling sensation, like I was being watched, tickled the hairs on my scalp.
The house looked different dark, and gave me the shivers to see it so cold and empty. The rows upon rows of dongas to the left of the house were even creepier. There were over thirty or so and I had to creep my way past them all until I reached the very last — Laurie’s.
Before I stepped in, a cluster of bushes several metres behind me rustled, making my heart stop. But it turned out to be nothing but scattered leaves scraping across the ground in the night breeze.
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