by Steph Matuku
‘You’re weirded out?’
‘Let’s think logically,’ Devin said. ‘You could have died in the bus crash.’
‘You could have died in the bus crash? Can you hear yourself right now?’
Without thinking, Jahmin took two steps towards Devin and she cowered back, instinctively raising a forearm to cover her face.
Eva pushed between the two of them, surprising everyone. ‘Leave her alone! She’s right, you must have died at some stage!’
‘How is it relevant?’ Jahmin raged. He held up a hand, counting off on his fingers. ‘Okay, maybe Liam came up behind me and bashed me with a mobile phone? Or what about that stalker fantail? It could have swooped into my ear and pecked my brains out while I wasn’t looking! Or maybe I died because of your stupid questions? I don’t bloody know!’
‘All right, all right,’ muttered Eva. ‘Just trying to establish some kind of timeline or something.’
‘What are you, a cop?’
‘What are you, dead?’ Eva snapped.
Rocky waved his hand for attention, eyes wide. ‘You had a fantail stalking you?’
Jahmin turned away, palms pressing randomly over his chest area. ‘Yeah, so?’
‘That’s a tohu. A sign. Fantails are messengers of death.’
‘I’m not really interested in ancient Māori wisdom right now, okay?’
‘No wait, listen. Māui, the trickster, the mischievous demigod, tried to cheat death and live forever by crawling through the vagina of Hine-nui-te-pō, the Goddess of the Underworld. But a fantail who was watching burst out laughing, and the Goddess woke up and crushed Māui to death between her thighs.’
When nobody had anything to say to this, Rocky added solemnly, ‘If Māui had succeeded, we’d all be immortal.’
‘Awesome, bro. But my Māori blood is, like, minimal as. I don’t think it counts.’
‘Really?’ said Eva curiously. ‘I didn’t know you had any.’
‘My great-great-great-grandfather or something.’ Jahmin was dismissive. ‘Hardly anything.’
‘If a fantail flies into your house,’ Rocky persisted, ‘it means that you or someone you know is going to die. And it’s true. It happened to me when my Uncle Pete passed.’
‘But it didn’t fly in my house, did it?’ Jahmin said.
Rocky shrugged. ‘I don’t make the rules.’
Devin was staring at Jahmin with a peculiar expression.
He glared at her. ‘What?’
She took a step back, bit her lip.
He sighed. ‘Sorry. Sorry about before, too. I’m just so bloody freaked.’
‘I know,’ Devin said. ‘But ... can I ...?’ Tentatively she moved to his side and reached out, parting his hair just above the right temple.
Curious, Eva jumped up to see what Devin was looking at.
‘Oh, crap.’ Eva took another look and then hurriedly backed off, her stomach churning.
Poking out from Jahmin’s scalp was a thin piece of bamboo, a couple of centimetres long, virtually invisible inside the massive halo of hair that was Jahmin’s pride and joy.
‘What?’ Jahmin’s fumbling fingers found the wooden shaft, and his eyebrows shot up in alarm. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Devin said reassuringly. ‘It’s probably nothing.’
‘Get it out, then! Devin, can’t you get it out?’
‘Oh, gross.’ Eva turned her back, swallowing hard. ‘I’ll go find some sticks.’ She grimaced at her choice of words. ‘For the stretcher, I mean. Sorry.’
She almost ran from the campfire, her hand to her mouth. Rocky gazed after her imploringly, but he was in no shape to follow.
He watched unwillingly as Devin assumed the same determined expression she’d had when she was sewing up his leg. She reached out and then stopped, withdrew.
‘I might need a … cloth or something. For the blood.’
Rocky threw over Eva’s hoodie, which was lying on the ground next to him. They were planning on using it for the stretcher anyway.
Devin shook her fingers and flexed them, blew out a deep calming breath and gripped the bamboo tightly between finger and thumb.
‘Does that hurt?’
Jahmin shrugged. ‘I don’t feel anything.’
Devin pulled gently. The bamboo didn’t budge. She curled her fingers around it and tugged harder. Jahmin’s face was impassive.
‘Does that hurt?’
‘No.’
‘It’s a bit … tight. I might just …’
Devin leaned closer, taking the bamboo between her teeth, her nose wrinkling. The G-fro tickled. She bit down hard and yanked up sharply. The bamboo slid a few centimetres out from Jahmin’s skull, like a skewer through hard butter. It was covered with dark blood and clotty bits of matter.
Now she could get a better grip with her fingers. Without thinking too much about what she was doing, she kept pulling until it was finally out. The bamboo was half the length of her forearm and the end was razor sharp. She had Eva’s hoodie at the ready, but the geyser of blood she’d anticipated didn’t come.
She handed Jahmin the bamboo. He held it by the clean end, his expression blank.
‘I remember. I fell down that cliff by the stream, and there was some bamboo stuck in the rocks. It really hurt at the time, and then it stopped hurting real quick. I thought it was the cold numbing the pain, you know? But so what? You see weird X-rays like that on TV all the time! “When Nailguns Go Bad”. That kind of thing, right?’
‘Yeah, but usually they feel it,’ Rocky said reasonably. ‘They have to get operated on. They don’t just pull out a nine-inch nail and go off shopping or whatever.’
‘Maybe I’m in shock!’ Jahmin said wildly. ‘Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe …’ He snapped his fingers. ‘It’s that spaceship! It’s making us all go nuts! Maybe there’s no bamboo at all! Maybe it’s just a long, hard piece of hair!’ He flung the bamboo onto the fire.
‘Maybe you need a lie down?’ suggested Devin, ‘Go and rest for a bit. We need to make the stretcher, anyway.’
‘Okay, that’s a good idea,’ murmured Jahmin. He turned away without another word and crawled into the shelter. The bamboo that had been skewered through his brain sizzled merrily as the flames took hold of it.
Rocky whistled softly. ‘We should’ve kept it. Dead or not, either way it would’ve got him in the Guinness Book of World Records.’
Jahmin’s voice came from inside the shelter. ‘I heard that.’
40
Ever since Jahmin had found out he was probably dead, he’d been trying extra hard to prove he wasn’t. This included shouldering more than his share of the burden of carrying Rocky. The girls were carrying a branch of the stretcher each, walking side by side at Rocky’s feet, but Jahmin took the heavy end and marched silently at the front, his back to everyone.
‘What do you reckon?’ Eva said in a low voice to Devin.
‘Dunno,’ Devin whispered shortly, not wanting to waste precious breath.
‘Well, I do. He doesn’t have a pulse. You pulled a spear out of his head and he didn’t bleed. He’s cold to touch and he’s as white as anything. He’s dead. Which makes him a–’
‘I can hear you,’ Jahmin growled, leading the way around a stand of scrubby bushes.
‘But the question is,’ muttered Eva out of the corner of her mouth, ‘if he is a zombie, will he eat us? And if so, who will he eat first?’
Jahmin abruptly let go the stretcher and Rocky roared in indignation as he found himself upside down.
Devin and Eva hastily lowered their end, and Devin dropped to Rocky’s side to inspect his leg. To her surprised relief she found her stitches still held and the swelling had almost vanished.
Jahmin turned on Eva in a fury. ‘Shut it, all right? Nobody had a go at you when you were talking to dead people.’
Eva wasn’t in the least cowed. ‘Does it count if a dead person is talking to me now?’
‘Only if the dead person tells you
to go screw yourself!’
‘Stop it!’ Devin cried. ‘As if we haven’t got enough to worry about, without you two at each other’s throats all the time! Get over yourselves!’
Eva kicked a toe at a loose stone in the dirt.
Jahmin folded his arms, scowling.
Devin, shocked that she’d spoken like that and even more shocked that they appeared to have taken notice, touched Jahmin on the shoulder. She could feel the chill of his flesh through his T-shirt.
‘Let’s rest for a bit,’ she said. ‘You must be knackered.’
‘That’s the point.’ Jahmin hunkered down and picked at the ground moodily. ‘I’m not knackered. I’m not tired at all. I’m not hungry. I’m not sleepy. I’m not sore. I’m none of the things that I should be. I practised not breathing and guess what? I’m not a breather either. Eva’s right. I’m a zombie.’
There was nothing important or helpful Devin could think of to say, so she just blurted out the first thing that came into her head. ‘Well, I’m a loser.’
Eva gave a half-smile. ‘I’m heartbroken.’
Rocky ruefully regarded his leg. ‘And I’m never going to be an All Black.’
Devin held out a hand to Jahmin. ‘You’re the first zombie friend I’ve had. In fact,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘you’re one of the first friends I’ve ever had.’
Jahmin let her pull him to his feet and gave her a quick hug.
Devin froze, unused to spontaneous hugs, and then tentatively hugged him back. He growled and pretended to bite her on the neck, and Eva screamed out loud. It was kind of funny.
Jahmin learnt an important lesson that day. If you’re dead, it helps to have a sense of humour.
41
Idelle crawled out from under the bushes. She must have collapsed with exhaustion. She had been dancing, whirling, gyrating in celebration for hours and hours, her clothes flung to one side because they interfered with the movement of her body, and then she had just ... fallen asleep.
The moment of clarity in her mind began to fade as she looked up at it, the dull sheen of the metal reflecting the late afternoon sunlight. The embossed fanlike patterns seemed to undulate in the changing light, taking on a rhythm that matched her heartbeat ... or maybe it was her heartbeat taking on the rhythm, she wasn’t sure and she didn’t care.
She dipped and swayed in time, her arms held high, in praise of it, this huge alien thing that had made her rediscover herself, reconnect with her primitive self.
She danced in its shadow. She worshipped it. She was filled body and soul with it. She belonged to it and it belonged to her, just her, all hers.
The blood was streaming fast now.
42
‘I don’t believe it,’ whispered Rocky.
‘You don’t believe it, but do you see it?’ Jahmin asked anxiously.
‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
Eva’s head was buried in her hands. ‘It’s Idelle; Mandy’s dead. It’s Idelle; Mandy’s dead.’
After a time, she raised her head and refocused on the view across the river.
‘It’s Idelle!’ she cried triumphantly. ‘I see brown hair. No, wait, it’s blonde … it’s Mandy. It’s Mandy.’
She covered her eyes again.
Devin swayed rhythmically, glazed eyes fixed on Rocky, her breathing coming hard and fast.
Jahmin grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. ‘Devin! Snap out of it!’
Jahmin’s bony fingers were pinching, and the pain gave Devin clarity. She felt herself blushing as she realised that no, she wasn’t actually dancing in a club with Rocky’s body pressed hard against hers, she was kneeling behind a line of scrub watching Idelle Watkinson leap and gyrate under a spaceship.
It was getting difficult to pick which was real life and which was imaginary.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘My head …’
‘Me too,’ Eva groaned.
Devin pinched her hard.
Eva squealed.
‘Sorry,’ said Devin, ‘but the pain takes your mind off it. That’s why Rocky’s immune to it.’
‘Hey, you’re right,’ Eva said, watching Mandy slip back into Idelle. She turned and slapped Jahmin hard across the face. ‘There. Feel better?’
‘I’m dead, you moron! It doesn’t affect me!’
Eva grinned. ‘Sorry, forgot.’
‘Well, we can’t just stay here slapping and pinching each other,’ Devin hissed impatiently. ‘What now? Obviously, we all agree this thing exists, but it’s not doing us any good. And look at Idelle!’
‘Yeah,’ Jahmin said appreciatively, watching Idelle’s taut, naked body writhing and twisting in the fading sunlight. ‘Look at Idelle.’
‘We can’t stay here,’ Devin said. ‘We’ll go crazy.’
Her gaze fell on Rocky and glazed over. With an enormous effort she pinched her arm and the nightclub mirage dissolved.
‘But the luggage and supplies and stuff,’ Eva reminded them. ‘We need those for Rocky, at least.’
‘I’ll get them,’ Jahmin said. ‘But what about Idelle? Shall I bring her back?’
‘No,’ said Eva and Devin together.
Rocky spoke quietly. ‘I know you guys have issues with Idelle, but we can’t just leave her. That thing’s messing with her head.’
‘Too bad,’ said Eva. ‘If you bring her here, I’m leaving.’
The boys exchanged glances.
‘Okay. Just the supplies then,’ said Jahmin. ‘But if she wants to come?’
‘Run away from her,’ said Eva, flatly. ‘I mean it. It’s her or me.’
‘And me,’ Devin agreed. Although a part of her did wonder if the boys wouldn’t secretly prefer to have Idelle there instead of her.
Rocky raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, okay. Man, you guys are harsh.’
‘Karmic kickback, baby,’ Eva said.
Devin nodded slowly. The pulse in her wrist was quickening, and by the far-away look on Eva’s face, she guessed Eva’s was too.
Jahmin pinched them hard. ‘You guys need to get further away. I’ll be as quick as I can. You’d better head back to camp. I’ll catch up.’
The girls nodded and went to either end of the stretcher, as Jahmin vanished into the bush.
‘On three,’ said Eva. ‘One, two …’
They strained to lift the stretcher, but Rocky stayed firmly planted on the ground.
‘Jeez,’ said Eva. ‘You’re bloody heavy. What do we do now?’
The wind became a breathy sigh. The trees near Devin swayed gently, the leaves caressing each other. Erotic carvings appeared on the tree trunks, full hips and gleaming torsos entwined together, beckoning to her, their unearthly features promising pleasure she could only ever dream about.
Devin slapped herself across the face as hard as she could. When she was able to refocus, she croaked, ‘We’ll have to drag him.’
Eva could hear Mandy calling. She stamped on her own foot, limped to Devin’s side and grabbed a branch. With an effort they dragged Rocky into the bush. Mandy’s voice grew faint. The trees looked a little more like trees.
Rocky clenched his teeth as he was jounced over the rocky ground. It was going to be a bumpy ride.
43
Jahmin trotted upstream to allow for the drag of the current, stripped off and stepped into the river. When he was out of his depth, he kept on walking underwater, just to see if he could. It was all right at first, but hard going. He was too light to make much forward progress with the current relentlessly pushing him sideways. He didn’t have a lot of visibility, either, and what he could see, he didn’t want to. Sticky mud swirling lightly above the riverbed, clouds of feathery green algae floating around forbidding grey rocks, half-seen flashes of scaly silver, and, finally, what looked like a severed leg, wedged under a log.
He surfaced quickly and began swimming hard, head down, arms thrashing wildly. With no need to breathe, there was no break in his rhythm. It worked surprisingly well.
He aime
d for the slip, and was soon wading through the pool it had created. He called out to Idelle, but she didn’t react, just continued pirouetting with her hands held high, like a drunken ballerina on a music box.
He decided to have a good look around before approaching her. Idelle’s behaviour was too bizarre, too unpredictable, and he might need to make a quick getaway.
Giving her a wide berth, he made his way up until he was among the bus wreckage. In a shallow hole, he saw a collection of phones and his own Game Boy, beeping and flashing away merrily. He was pleasantly surprised. It was like bumping into an old friend.
He was reminded of his watch, the one he’d thrown away. It was obvious to him now that the ship was sending out some kind of weird energy, screwing up the hardwiring of the gear as well as the hardwiring of their brains. That energy had, for some reason, reanimated him. The question was, would he still be alive, in a manner of speaking, if he moved too far away from it?
It would be easy to think too much. Right now he needed to act.
He made his way further in, to Idelle’s campsite. It was a mess, not just from the actual crash, but from Idelle herself. Empty food packets were strewn about, and she hadn’t even bothered to go off into the bush to go to the toilet. Jahmin wrinkled his nose as he narrowly avoided stepping on a large poo, and made sure he watched where he put his feet from then on.
Higher up, on one side of the slope, two sheets of metal formed a little A-frame shelter. Bare, bloodied feet were sticking out of it. He didn’t go any closer.
He picked his way over to the tent and crawled inside. The air was thick and warm, and there were rusty brown smears on the sleeping bags that looked like blood. Medication, a first aid kit and toiletries were heaped haphazardly in a corner. Next to them was an old-fashioned tartan case with two silver snap-locks. He recognised it as Mrs Harlow’s. She kept all her paperwork in it. He clicked it open and saw that the usual stacks of files and folders had been replaced by food. Biscuits and chocolate and muesli bars and little bags of chips, as well as cigarettes, condoms and a few bottles of booze. All the essentials for a bunch of city kids camping in the bush.