Next day we push on. Clingin to dark an scrubby places an watchin the roads. Far off the Thirstys got a dust cloud over it. Crowds there haulin pots, sacks, cookin oil, whatever grub they got. Fleein the dangers back east. Filin past sentries an givin up whatever juntamen fancy off they backs.
Aban Efia wont join that traffic. So we act on the heave blokes teachin. Catchin locusts at nightfall. Lookin for the heaps sand crickets make an diggin up they grubs. Keepin shady when the air quake. Hidin from the suns great hammer. Worst times it get so its hard to breathe. Like yer lungs might fry. So you stop yer thinks, you take sips of air while the other watch shadows hard as iron. Wait for carder song to hush an birds to sing the all-clear. Then Efia sit with Aban watchin the land in the softer light. She like the way it look wash clean at days end. Like the comin night could start the whole world over.
Aban let her watch him carvin his flint. She dont ask what hes doin, just like to see his brown fingers turn the blade. The cords an ropes under his skin, the nimble way he move his hands. The flints well done now, she can see its rings an dots when he put it to his lips to blow off the carvin dust.
Aban put the flint down like its heavy an sit for a long bit.
Efia.
Yeah?
Dint the trapper say Davys Way aint done?
He reckon it start again.
To Silster?
To Silster.
Maybe Malk think on the same. Maybe they gone back to look for us.
Efia turn on him like some crit bit her. You wanna find that ole road? Like it done so good for us. What for Aban?
For Malk.
Hes gone.
Not Malk.
Gone.
Dont say that you cant say that.
I can. Aban we aint got nobody but us.
Have to find em. Have to get back. Groups the safest place. We cant do it lonesum.
Maybe.
No. In the dark you far from people. Thats when you group. Groupins better any fire its better than a straw bed. Groups where you live when all bout yous black an toothsome.
I wanna hear –
What?
Wanna hear bout you. Not bout Malk or the group but what you seen an done before.
Before what?
Before you come a slave. What its like to be you.
He stare at her. Tho its dark in the trees theres a point of light in each of his eyes. Nuthin come out of him so Efia speak in his place.
My name mean born Friday. You dint know that did you? Lan an me we come up in the same place. Roil Wells. Dads a potter. I use to sit on his lap watchin the wheel spin. Mum help him some days. Typhus carry her off an Dad go all stony after that. No more laughs. No more games. Just him workin an me like a slave. When my bleedin come he set me up to marry his mate. Lan too get given up for hitchin. Her name mean orchid which is a flower. We scape the town one Laws day when our dads prayin. Meet Rona an Nathin at Whey Bitch. You an Malk later.
I dint know yer name mean sumthin.
What bout you?
Dunno. Cant say.
Aban look at the flint on the ground before him. Long quiet sit between us. Then Efia say, Dowds dead.
Yeah.
He wont of made it.
Cant know for show.
I do. You love him?
Dowd?
I love him. Like a bro. Not like I love you.
Aban show a burnin in his face an the sun aint to blame. It spread in a hot flood down his throat. Efia make like in the dark she dont see it, tho she too feel she glow like a coal.
Efia, say Aban. It aint right.
How so aint right? Whats past is like roots. Aint the whole tree if an you only know the trunk.
I cant put it into speaks. It just dont feel right.
That first night, say Efia, Dowd tell us how he come to be here. He give us his life like a story an it get so we could love him straightway. Cos we know where he come from. Cos he got roots an we see em. But I aint never seen you Aban.
It aint sound talkin like this. Its like crossin some line an I dont –
OK.
Dont ask me.
I dint mean nuthin.
We gotta go back. Find Davys Way.
If you reckon.
Find it an the others. Malk Rona Becca. Aban Efia. Back like it use to be.
Well you can try, say Efia an she push no more gainst him. Aban crawl out to set up dewcloths. She stay to fix some supper. Crush locusts to make flour. Wont try that again. Wont ask him questions. Wont mention neither the names he forget.
Two slow days an no trace of Davys Way. Only the burnin land an bust-up steds like the Roamin town of Silster. We smell it first, see its smoke risin an keep out its way. Haulin thirst like a rider on our backs. Till without meanin to we enter Pamper Heave, or whats left of it. Rusty skulls of oil lamps, old farmin tools, broke pots an pans. Grindin stones in the ash shadow of burnout huts. Dead camels an mules, like the bones an ribs of bust-up furniture.
Hoofers dint get much.
For show, say Efia. Not least cos they aint bin here.
We find a well behind a meetin tree. Aban pull hard at the bucket rope when a voice from the tree say, Forget it.
A woman sit gainst the tree, a bloke beside her starin at the ground. Efia see the wrong angle of his hand, like its broke.
Whats up with the well?
Whats down it you mean. Dead girl. Been there two days. Cant you smell her?
Aban look at the dumb bloke. Whats wrong with his hand?
He kill a man with it. Cant use it now for three days. Wash off the polushun.
Aban go to the well, lean over it then push back gaggin.
Told you, say the woman.
Hoofers?
Thats how they want it to look. Blame yer foes. Take care no one live to say otherways.
All this for what? Land?
Why you ask girl? Men kill men an land remain. Lands there for itself an dont ask blokes to fight for it. So they say the Law wannit or bosses in the Wen. But thats just talk. War need talkin up cos no one ud do it otherways.
Efia look to a deep gash in the womans leg. The woman cover it with a bloody hand. Efia look her in the eye. This hard person. Like she might find kindness there.
Is now worse an ever? Howd we get so bad?
Things badder thats all. Times harder an no rains whip up more an dust.
But alls so ugly, say Efia an her voice break.
Wars ugly, say the woman, its face aint changin. It smell an it taste like its done before the Fast Time.
You got water, say Aban.
Nope.
Need some?
Cant give you nuthin for it.
How bout directions?
Tho we dont have much in our jercans, Efia watch Aban fill a cap an bring it to the woman. She take a sip then look at her bloke.
Got some for him too?
OK.
Aban refill the cap an the woman lift it to the blokes lips. He drink, tho its like hes sleepin with his eyes open.
Aint got more?
Need it for us, say Aban, takin back the cap. The woman nod an her eyelids droop. She open em again like she just recall we there. Where you headin, she say.
West.
Try Oldermaster. Reckon theres folk still there. Go careful tho. Oldermasters where Davy use to live. More for a drop eh?
Efia take the jercan from Abans grip. Wait, he say, but she hand it to the woman who look for a sec at Aban before takin a gulp. Ta girl. Ta for that.
There aint no Davy, say Aban.
Look around you.
Thats men.
Ole Davy win men over do his work for him. He give us fire you know that? Na. Alls forgot innit. Cept you know now. The truth walk in you. Well Davys got plans for us he give us fire an lots of nifty stuff. Give men all they big thinks in the Fast Time an Oldermasters where they make em happen. Yer spear my blokes axe they aint straws to what they forge at Oldermaster. Back in the good ole then what give us the
bad ole now.
If its so bad, say Aban, why go there?
Cos its big enuf I reckon folk aint all fled an you get supplies. If an you got, say the woman, grinnin, what stedders want to buy.
Aban see her eyes run over Efias body. Lets go, he say.
Efia catch him up. Oldermasters risky –
Better an listen to that old witch.
I hear you, the woman say but she dont seem to care, shes munchin her gums, lookin at her bloke. His eyes shut now an she pluck a thread of spit off his chin.
Will you be OK, say Efia.
No, say the woman, dont expect so. But nuthin you can do bout it.
She tell us how to cross country to Oldermaster an Efia speak her thanks. Tho once we set off, an Pamper Heaves smoulderin behind us, its a lightness she feel in her body.
We camp at dusk in sight of Davys manshuns.
Good enuf place for sleepin, say Aban.
Efia smile cos its way better. Too small for a waterin place, still its green in the grey, a sign of life. Aban dig down to mucky water an Efia find funnel an fat hen that keep the gumdrip away. Aban havin strong teeth chew the funnel stalk an bulb. Efia mash up fathead an grubs she dig up before Silster.
Look cross the waste to Oldermasters ramparts. No lights behind, nor folk to see gainst the evenin sky.
All gone you reckon?
Dunno, say Aban. Not so we can risk a fire.
Strain ditch water thru muslin strips an drink it. Eat next an Efia think out loud on her past when she use to be sure of one meal a day. Water too in the winter months from chalk streams. She tell Aban how her pa bring back from market sacks of beans, a can of cookin oil, salt an flour. Now its only foragin an shoppin. An not much of the second since Winsham an we lose Lan.
Cross the hills the sun melt into sand an its evenin. Birds group in the trees over us. Warbles with they scritchy yek an sad bush robins. A flock of budjis clingin to branches chat an clamber with they beaks. Off in the scrub a goatsucker start its purrin. Aban lay a hand on Efias foot. You ask me, he say, to talk some. Bout me. Bout what its like to be Aban.
Yeah.
Stuff we dont give. When we group. Stuff we carry on our lonesum.
Tell me.
How?
Where you feel it.
He sit in the shadow of him. Slow thru speakin he come out from it. He tell Efia bout his folks in Whey Bitch. How poor his pa, how sick his ma with eight kids an Aban the youngest. No cash for drugs nor medics, he watch his brother Tom die. Sumthin in his gut burst. Nuthin they can do. When Malair carry off his pa his uncle Silas take him to the Wen. Tell him its to buy skins but its Aban his uncles meanin to sell. To Feo for a life of labour. Meet Malk that first night in they Hamsted cell. Malk who tell him, You a slave boy now an no mistake. Feo got yer for long as he fancy an there aint no scapin it till Death fancy you more. But Malk dont mean bad, dont treat him hard after sayin that. He take him on, show him the ropes. Malk an Aban get to be like bros. Workin for Feo.
Not so hard at first, say Aban. But Feo start drinkin an he get bad. Real filthy. It get so we cant take no more. I steal his knife. We do Feo in bed an run away. Scape slaves an killers you know why we fraid of arrest.
Who done the killin?
Eh?
Who cut Feos throat?
Aban look out cross the waste an toss bits of twig at it. Efia, he say, I wish we aint come to this. You an me. I wish we stay like before the Winsham raid. Before Dowd come an we lose Lan an everythin.
Its dark now in the copse an Efia speak close to his ear. Nuthin stay like it is, she say, nor you want it. Nor nuthin stay like you dont. Its just the way of it Aban. Make you hut an joy the roof but dont call it home cos there aint no home for us in this world only passin places. Only thirsty road an everythin changin.
Aban look at Efia. He hold her with his eyes till she cant move. She dont see his thinks but she can feel em, like a dark animal sittin between us. Then he reach inside his pack an take out the stone he bin carvin.
For you, he say.
Efia feel him put the stone in her hand. Its damp from his skin, like the stones made of flesh. Abans sweat on it like dew. Efia try to give it back but he fold her fingers over it till she feel its hips, the necklace round its throat an breast.
Its her, she say.
She give it to me. She tell me what to do. Like she guide my fingers.
Efia take it then. Hold it to her heart. Put her lips to the grooves an speak holy things. Say Lans name. Say Dowds. Take em into yer body. Take em home Momma. Back to the ground where everythin finish an everythin start.
Aban listen to her pray. The Laws losin its grip on him. Whats left of the Law in a world the Law made.
Maybe he see Momma too.
*
I lower the stone. Lay her gentle in my lap.
Aban kiss me on the mouth an I feel my body quake. Like hes the sun an Im the land gone all shimmery under him. I reach out but he move away. I cant say nuthin to call him back. Not cos I dont want to but cos I want it too much.
Later, I dont know when. Later I wake up. It grab me from sleep like a cat snatch a mouse. Take me in its jaws an squeeze till Im sobbin from the pain. My heart burnin, my lungs wont take no air, all I can think is Lans laugh an her terror dance, Dowds fight with the bush an the crack of juntamens guns. How the smell of corses stain yer thinks an once its in yer head you wont never wash it out.
Hey, say Aban touchin me. He reach for the stone he give me an press it in my hand. He kiss the wet an sand from my cheeks. I feel the rough on his chin. Taste salt on his lips an tongue. Skin an sand an the woods close over us, like the worlds foldin its wings in a whisper of leaves. No group left but only him an me. The world all before us. A short sleep away.
Aban wake first an look fraid for the group but find only me. Efia. Pressin gainst him in the cool. He slap his cheek to think him into the here an whats just bin. Our trek to Oldermaster, whats spoke between us, the bloke with polushun on his hands. Aban lift him on his elbows an look out cross the warmin-up scrub. Oldermaster look empty. Worth the risk? An survivors ready to kill for what remain of grub an water? Go round is better. Leave Davys sted to Davy an his mates.
I sit up with a warnin like a shout in my head. Aban say, Watcher but I shush him quick.
What?
Listen.
Abans upright, every nerve prickin. He pat the ground for his pack an sharpstick. He look at me, searchin for my thinks. I dont hear nuthin, he say.
There.
Like the moon sometime show up in the mornin sky, a sound creep out from the heave noises. Bird chatter, carder song, the rasp of fronds an sand an there in em all, but comin closer, the sound of footfalls. Aban think at once its danger but in the shuffle a tiny sound, a tingle in the ear, the ring of a bell. Not like cattle clonk or gungalung of goat bells but a thin white mutter, like a flower quiverin in the breeze.
Aban where you goin, I say cos hes creepin thru weeds away from me.
Stay there, he whisper an I do like he say tho footsteps an the bell grow louder till Im fraid an quakin. Sod this, I reckon an press on my hands an toes to the copses edge.
On the track I see folk comin. Movin slow like they drunk an tryin not to look it. Six grownups, tho whether blokes or women who can say cos they all wrap up in grey jelabas. Six grownups an four kiddies between em. At first I think slavers cos it look like the kiddies are tie to a rope. A length of rope tight an the walkers movin not like they carryin it but like its movin em. The bell speak louder an I see it on the front childs neck an all a sudden I get it. These kids aint captive, they steerin the others. Lookin forward an side to side whiles the grownups in they jelabas seem to sniff the air, they heads wanderin an I look for they eyes, see the lids red an raw, the skin gone thick like elbow scurf. Feel a cold pain in my chest, like deep thirst, like the pain I feel when Lan get took in Winsham. Crouchin low I watch the blind folk an they escorts. Into my head quick thinks, like where they come from, where they
headin an how in all the dangers of drought an fightin do they get there safe? Six riverblind grownups an they small seein guides.
While I chew on these thinks a cry not of crit or bird fly out from the trees.
Aban?
The cry again, like foxy at night, an the kiddies stare, the blind folk snuffle an grope. A stick fly quiverin into the track, it bury its head only yards from the blind folk an all on a sudden the trees shred, yelpin bodies rushin feathery with leaves an sharpsticks. Too late the guides pull on the rope to speed the grownups but they panic, one on em run into furze an fall bleatin, two more drop to they knees, hands together like they prayin to the Law, tho I know the Law aint in the savin bizness. In a few leaps more the attackers gonna reach em. From the headdress of one I see a flame of red hair. The name scape my lips before I can catch it back an Im out of the copse runnin an Abans beside me runnin too an the breath tearin out of us.
Malks got the guidin stick up like hes gonna bring it down on a blind mans skull when Aban throw him at his legs. The boys churn the dust where they tumble an Nathins racin at em, his sharpstick ready. Becca stare from the boys to me whos callin her name like a ghost come from the grave.
Stop! Becca stop him!
Malk kick Aban off his legs. He sit on his arse starin. Then turn to Nathin say, Round em up, cos the blind groups back together an gettin away. Nathin do like hes told, jerkin his spear an yippin.
Aban lurchin for breath find no room to speak.
You gonna help us? Malk look at Aban an me. The leaves torn an broke off his face, we see dirt an a wound like a slug of dry blood on his cheek. Well?
Help you, I say, do what?
Fucks sake. We reckon we lost you.
Tell us you aint plannin on robbin these folk.
Malk gob into his hand. Shit Aban you cut my knee. Aban say nuthin, he just watch his bro spitwash his wound. Dont spose you find Dowd on yer way?
Wheres Rona, say Aban.
Shes safe, say Malk. Near Pamper Heave. Leave her there with a bust ankle. So you see, he turn to me, why we aint got time to nabber. Stedders got grub in they packs now help us take it off em.
The Devil's Highway Page 17