Don't Look Back (Warders of Earth)

by S. E. GILCHRIST

  “Okay Dad?” I scanned the grey hue of his face, wondering how much time he had left. I sensed if he didn’t reach medical help soon, it might be too late.

  “I’ve had better days,” he managed. “Clever friend you’ve got here, Tara.”

  “Huh?” Consumed with fears for Dad, I’d paid no attention to Em. Now I saw she was bent over Dad’s legs, apparently having put her tears on hold. “What are you doing?”

  “Picking the lock,” she said quietly. “There. I’ve got it.” Metal scraped against metal, there was a clicking noise and Em looked up. Her mouth wobbled. “My adoptive mother taught me and she gave me my own set of lock picks for my last birthday.”

  She quickly replaced the picks into her pack and turned her face away.

  What kind of mother or adoptive mother teaches her daughter how to pick locks? Had she suspected her husband was involved in terrorist activities and wanted to give her some survival skills?

  I pulled the shackles off my father’s ankles and gently rubbed his legs to help with the circulation. When I lifted his trouser hem, I sucked back my rage at the mottling skin that was revealed.

  Dad bent down and took hold of both my hands in his. His clasp was weak, his fingers ice cold.

  I began to shake my head. “No, Dad. Please. We can all make it.”

  He just looked at me, his chest rising and falling deeply as he tried to fill his airways. “I’m done for…This is where I make my stand.”

  So this was it.

  This was what I’d subconsciously dreaded ever since I’d seen the abandoned bike and the gaping hole in the fence.

  The light of battle blazed in his eyes.

  “I’m not leaving without you. This is my fault we’re in this mess. You wouldn’t be here, if I hadn’t involved you. If I had listened and stayed at home.” Words poured from me. Dry sobs racked my body causing me to shudder where I stood.

  He released my hands to pull me into a hug I wanted to last for eternity.

  Then he let me go.

  I’d never felt so alone in my life.

  “Listen, kiddo. This is not your fault. You didn’t start this and I didn’t raise kids that hide in the dark, cover their eyes and don’t step up to the mark. Whatever happens, I’ll always be proud of you. Both of you and please tell my boy that too.” He spoke slowly, each sentence an effort that I saw cost him dearly.

  “Help me to stand, kiddo.”

  Slipping my arms around him, I eased him carefully onto his feet.

  He stood there swaying, sucking in the pain of his broken body. My heart swelled with the love and pride I felt for him.

  “Gotta move quick.” He took a deep wheezing breath, as if bracing himself, rolled his shoulders and winked. “Got surprise on our side…it’ll be a piece of cake. I’ll rush them. Keep them busy. Head straight for the fence…Don’t look back. Keep going.”

  He grabbed my shoulders with shaking hands and whispered close to my ear, “No regrets, kiddo. Everything we did, your Mum and I, every part we played, even our divorce, it was all done to keep you and your brother safe. You have an important role to play in our world’s future.”

  He paused, his eyes wet. “Remember, my baby girl…no matter what happens, no matter who you are, your mother and I always loved you. You’re ours, our own little girl who’s grown into a woman we’re both so proud of and we wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

  Straightening, he held me at arms’ length, gave me a little shake. “Now stop those tears. Pull yourself together, kiddo. We knew it would come down to this moment. You have to be strong and step up…I need you to do this for me.”

  I scrubbed my face with grimy hands, gulped and nodded. Inside, I was dying. With burning eyes, I stared at my father, imprinting his face on my memory and in my heart.

  I’ll never forget.

  Never.

  “I’m ready, Dad,” I said. “I won’t forget.”

  Em touched my arm. “What’s really going on, Tara? Who are you?”

  “Not now, Em.”

  I helped Dad shuffle to the door, one arm held tightly against his stomach. I heard the hitch in his breathing, knew he was battling intense pain, but not one groan or protest did he make – not my dad. He listened for a few moments, shrugged out of my hold, then wrenched the door open.

  A guard stood with his back to the building. He pivoted at the noise, his hand reaching for his side-arm, but he was too slow.

  I did’t know where he found the strength but Dad’s arm snaked around the guard’s throat, crushing against the bloke’s windpipe. Then Dad released him to slam his fist into the guard’s left kidney. The soldier dropped to the ground.

  His breathing coming in short, frantic gasps, Dad leant heavily against the wall, his face as grey as old bones. He waved us forward in the direction of the gate. “Go, kiddo. Don’t look back.”

  Shouts and yells erupted.

  Doors slammed.

  I grabbed Em’s hand and ran. My feet pounded over the ground but the sound was muffled by the furious cracking of my heart. I saw nothing in front of me, only Dad’s face. Hear nothing but the words he’d whispered. I could smell his spicy aftershave, feel the imprint of his arms surrounding me, protecting me.

  No more.

  The sound of heavy boots pounding the ground penetrated the white noise inside my head, telling me the soldiers had spotted us. Far ahead freedom beckoned beyond the wire fence.

  I heard Dad’s familiar voice raised in a wild yell. I risked a quick glance over my shoulder desperate to see him following behind us.

  A gang of three or four soldiers stood over something or someone lying on the ground. Bayonets were in their hands. They raised them over their heads and slashed downwards.

  Repeatedly.

  DAD!

  I stumbled. I let go of Em’s hand. I pitched forward, hitting the dirt hard. Em tugged at my clothes, screaming at me to get to my feet.

  I took another look behind.

  Sunlight glinted off rifle barrels.

  Heaving to my feet, I took off in a sprint. “Duck and weave,” I shouted as bullets whizzed past the side of my head, so close I felt the wind from their passage flick my hair. I ran in a drunken pattern towards the gap in the fence.

  It was close.

  So close.

  My ears rang from the firing rifles. The stink of cordite hung heavily in the hot air.

  Em reached the ditch first, slithered down and crawled through the gap in the wire. Gasping, my lungs burning, I followed. The jagged edges caught on my clothes. A straggling strand of wire sliced through my pants and down the back of my thigh as Em grabbed my shoulders and hauled me through.

  I collapsed panting, in the dirt.

  Em’s face was whiter than snow and her lips were moving wordlessly as she helped me to my feet again.

  Don’t look back.

  I looked back, hoping against hope to see Dad’s familiar figure but saw nothing except a pack of armed soldiers running in our direction.

  I remembered the motionless body lying on the ground surrounded by soldiers. I bent over retching helplessly into the grass.

  Dad. Dad.

  Chapter 13 – ESCAPE

  “They’re chasing us! They’ve got jeeps.”

  Em’s voice cut through my misery as I huddled in the dirt. Feeling as if my heart had split wide open and there was nothing left, I staggered upright.

  The soldiers had turned back and were now running towards their vehicles. One of the trucks was on the move, heading to the gates.

  “We better get a move on,” I forced out through numb lips. I wanted to fling myself onto the ground and scream and pummel the earth until I had no strength left. I wanted to beg God for a miracle, for another chance.

  But there was no time for that now.

  We were in big trouble.

  If we could make it to Dad’s motorbike, we might escape. A dirtbike could go a lot of places where trucks or jeeps wouldn’t be able to
follow.

  “I can’t ....” Em wrung her hands.

  I turned slowly, my body feeling as heavy as if I carried lead in my veins and met my friend’s wide eyes. Em was filthy, scratches and bruises marred her tanned skin. I bet I didn’t look a great deal better – we were like refugees from a war zone. I trembled, willing myself to think past the thick pea soup clouding my mind.

  The screeching of metal and the spit of gravel alerted me that we’d better hustle. The jeep had passed through the gates. We only had a few minutes before the guards came crashing through the bush and were on top of us.

  “This way!” I shouted. I led Em into the dense underbrush, pushing my way deeper into the scrub by sheer will power. I ignored the cuts and welts stinging my bare skin, I was totally focused on reaching that bike. I thought I heard men shouting behind us, but this time, I didn’t look back.

  With a final burst of energy I ducked under the low branches of a wattle tree and emerged near Dad’s bike.

  “Hop on, Em. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” We had to escape. We just had to. I took a moment to quickly hug my friend before swinging my leg over the leather seat.

  “Come on,” I urged through chattering teeth. I could hear the jeep’s engine again and it sounded closer.

  Em scrambled onto the bike.

  “Now hang on and don’t let go.” I kicked the stand up and turned the key. The throb of the engine was reassuring. Putting the bike into gear, I released the brake and with a sudden burst of power we roared across the clearing.

  At that same moment, the jeep burst through the trees.

  A soldier shouted.

  The bike skidded and wobbled, but I kept it upright. Down the narrow track we bounced then we shot out onto the road. I notched up another gear. With a shower of stones and gravel, the bike sped towards home and safety.

  “They’re catching up!” shrieked Em.

  I risked a glance behind. She was right. The jeep was so close I could see the grim expressions of its three occupants. The heat of the engine warmed my back. The sickening stench of diesel fumes mingled with the rising dust that clogged my nostrils. With a swift jerk of the steering wheel the driver sent the jeep swerving sideways.

  “There’re trying to get alongside us,” I yelled. “Hang on.”

  The bike bounced over a pothole.

  Em shrieked.

  I gritted my teeth, busy trying to remember my far too brief lesson on how to ride a motorbike. How proud Dad had been of his new toy, the day he’d arrived to show it off. And how off-hand I’d been at his enthusiasm. It had been fun though, with him riding pillion behind me. The wind in my face and Dad shouting instructions as we’d circled a paddock.

  Tears burned like a fireball of misery. I shook them away. If I wasn’t careful I’d be joining my father, face down in the dirt.

  A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.

  The jeep had sped up and now travelled alongside us. I opened up the throttle as far as it would go.

  Em screamed and dug her fingers into my skin making me twitch away from her.

  The man behind the wheel suddenly wrenched it sideways and the jeep’s bumper bar nicked the rear wheel of the bike. The bike surged forward, hit another pothole and I lost control.

  The bike wobbled.

  Tipped over.

  “Jump!” I leapt free as the bike fell toward the ground. I tumbled and slid across the gravel, knees burning, landing in a heap at the side of the road. The bike flipped over and with a terrifying screech of rending metal, was ground to a mangled mess by the jeep.

  Em! Where was she? Rolling onto my hands and knees I frantically stared about me and spotted her lying still, curled up in the foetal position. Dimly, I was aware of the jeep braking to a halt, the shouts of the men as they scrambled out of the vehicle.

  My skin on fire, I scrabbled across the rough ground. Rocks cut into my palms and knees. Upon reaching Em’s side I touched her gently on the shoulder. Oh God, what if she’s dead? What if I’ve killed her too?

  Em moaned, hiccupped then stared at me blinking like crazy. One of her false eyelashes hung half off her eye-lid.

  “We can’t stay here. Come on, get up.”

  “I can’t.” She looked like she intended to lie on the ground and never move.

  Shouting and the pounding of booted feet coming closer spurred me on. I grabbed her under the armpits and heaved her onto her feet.

  “Fuck it, Em. Move.” Slipping her right arm over my shoulders and my arm around her waist, I dragged her towards the dense foliage. If we could make the shelter of the trees...

  “Halt!”

  I kept going.

  “One more step, and we shoot.”

  Clenching my jaw, I spun around and found guns pointing in our direction. Every muscle I possessed trembled like melting jelly. My cuts and the gravel rash on my legs stung.

  My sense of failure outweighed all of it.

  “Hands in the air,” one soldier barked.

  Slowly, I released Em and raised my hands.

  “Turn around.”

  We were going to be executed in the back. Let them look me in the eye when they fired.

  “Fuck you,” I said, tossing my head.

  Shots rang out.

  Blood flooded over the chest of one soldier. His legs buckled. His gun dropped from suddenly lifeless hands as he crumpled.

  I hit the ground, grabbing Em by the wrist and taking her down with me as a gun battle blazed above our heads. I didn’t know who the Calvary was, but I would have kissed the devil himself if he saved us.

  I held my breath, not daring to breathe, trying to squish myself into as small a target as possible while bullets whizzed past and men shouted and swore.

  As the noise died away, I cautiously raised my head. Through the haze of shifting blue smoke two guys moved about, checking the bodies of the guards and removing their weapons. One of them strode over to me, while the other held his rifle at the ready and scanned the surrounds for any further activity.

  I knew them.

  I knew him.

  Air whooshed out of me as relief had my shoulders sag. I struggled to sit.

  “Alex. What are you doing here?” I mumbled.

  Hands patted me down, checking for broken bones.

  “Here.”

  Dumbly I stared at the hand hovering in front of my face. I gripped it and Alex pulled me to my feet. We stared at each other for sixty seconds.

  He looked pretty pissed off.

  Finally, I said, “Em.”

  Without speaking, Alex performed the same routine check of Em then helped her upright.

  Em rolled her eyes back into her head and sagged against him.

  “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, catching hold of her in his left arm, leaving his right hand still holding his rifle.

  I glanced over at Shay who had a tiny smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He winked then resumed his pacing of the area speaking every now and then into his collar.

  “I guess this is where we thank you,” I said.

  Alex released Em abruptly and stalked to my side.

  She snapped her eyes open.

  And before Alex blocked my vision, a funny expression passed over Em’s face. What was that? Jealousy? Rage?

  Alex nudged my chin up with his knuckle. “I thought I told you stay away from here, Tara.”

  I looked him over taking in the full camouflage outfit he wore complete with kevlar vest and helmet. In this getup he appeared older, a stranger, a soldier who’d seen war first-hand. His face was marked with black face paint, sweat and dirt but the cold, grey eyes were familiar as he stared back at me just as intently. He held his rifle pointed away from my body. There was no insignia on his combat uniform.

  I had to fight the urge to throw myself into his arms and bawl my eyes out.

  Suddenly, he pulled me close as if sensing my need.

  I could feel it welling inside of me, a huge dam
about to burst its banks and drown me in an ocean of guilt and misery. I stayed stiff, knowing if I didn’t, I’d lose it.

  He hugged me tight before setting me away from him.

  I wiped a hand over my face. It came away wet with tears. I mumbled, “If you’re supposed to be looking after me, you’re not doing a very good job. You’re a bit late to the party.”

  Alex thrust his face so close to mine, I saw the fascinating rim of black that edged his clear silver-grey eyes. Through gritted teeth, he said, “You’re not making it easy for me. Of all the stupid things to do...”

  “I don’t need you to remind me of the consequences of what I’ve done.” I blinked furiously to ward off the flood of weak tears.

  “Oh fuck.” His face softened. Worry creased frown lines along his forehead and he rubbed his cheek against mine, whispering, “I’m so very sorry. That was dumb of me, saying that stuff. I didn’t mean it.”

  My gut twisted. “You know what happened?”

  “Yeah. We went to the camp first, then heard the sound of a jeep in a fucking hurry and followed.”

  Please. Please. “Dad. Did you see him?”

  Alex drew in a sharp breath.

  I braced myself.

  “He didn’t make it.”

  There was nothing left to say.

  ***

  The jeep rolled to a stop out the front of my mother’s house. I sat slumped in the back seat, my body throbbing with pain from the tumble off the bike and everything else that had happened. But I sucked it deep inside.

  I deserved it.

  I deserved to feel every ache, every twinge, every slice of hurt.

  I deserved every shitty thing life threw at me.

  The porch screen door slammed wide and my mum appeared.

  Oh God, I didn’t know what to say, how to tell her.

  Mum raced down the steps and across the grass.

  Stricken I could do nothing but stare into her white face, hating the grief I read clearly etched into the new lines like trenches around her eyes and mouth.

  I had done this to her.

  “Tara. Thank heavens, you’re alright.” Mum reached the jeep. She held out her arms.