There was one girl – a musician too, I think – that Lizzy seemed to spend more time with than the others. She looked slightly older than Lizzy, and kind of familiar. When I asked Lizzy about her, she shrugged in a way that made me think there might have been something going on between them. But it seemed at arm’s length and I noticed that Lizzy still kept a photo of her girlfriend Erica as the desktop background on her laptop. I considered telling her about Georgia at this time, but copped out and kept it to myself.
My presence in the lounge seemed like it was no big deal. People were friendly enough, particularly when they noticed that I knew Lizzy, but mostly they continued with their routines and I kept to myself. I felt preoccupied, and we would be leaving at the first sign of a jet anyway. I found quiet corners and pushed on with the writing I had started at the Collective. The scope of the story felt pretty intimidating. It was interesting and the words came without too much of a fight. But there was no doubting now that what I was writing was a novel. I couldn’t help but think that maybe this could be my ticket home once we got back to Carousel. This scared the hell out of me and I tried not to think about it.
But the waiting was tough. I got bouts of panic over the time we were losing. We would be into August soon and Lizzy had as much of an idea of where Taylor might be as I did. I checked over our bikes and backpacks, and hovered at the windows while Chess looked on anxiously. Lizzy put up with this for a while, but eventually snapped and told me I had to chill. Later that day she took me shopping for clothes to kill some time.
Beneath the lounges was a corridor lined with the regular airport shopping outlets. Lizzy seemed familiar with the place and led us over to a surf store and Country Road outlet. She started browsing and building a pile of stuff for me to try on. The stores were stocking mostly spring lines at the time of the Disappearance, so the selection wasn’t great. In Country Road Lizzy found me some jeans and a few t-shirts that were okay. Then we moved over to the surf shop to look around for jackets.
‘Do you think I should tell everyone here about the Curator?’ I asked.
‘I did already,’ replied Lizzy.
I looked up from the jackets.
‘What did you tell them?’
‘Pretty much what you said to me. And that we would be leaving during the next aurora,’ she replied.
‘Did they say anything?’ I asked.
‘Different things. A couple of people had heard about it already,’ said Lizzy.
‘Do you think many of them will go back to their Residencies?’ I asked.
Lizzy thought it over.
‘It’s hard to say. I believe you because we have history. But people talk a lot of crap these days. Especially at the Collective. That place was like junior high,’ said Lizzy.
‘What if it’s true and they miss the deadline?’ I asked.
Lizzy shrugged despondently.
‘Did Ed mention anything about that?’ she asked.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t think he knows.’
I felt a growing weight on my shoulders. The Artists at the terminal seemed like genuinely good people. I hated the idea that they might miss their portals and be stranded here forever.
Lizzy seemed to notice my stressing.
‘I’ll talk to them again tonight. Maybe I can convince a few more,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ I replied.
We shifted along to another rack of jackets.
‘How about this?’ I asked, holding up a terrible denim fur combo.
Lizzy smiled.
‘That’s actually pretty cool,’ she said.
‘Serious?’ I asked.
‘No, Nox,’ she replied, deadpan.
I put it away and we kept looking.
‘Although it does kind of go with that new watch of yours,’ said Lizzy.
‘This watch totally saved my life in that casino,’ I replied.
‘Serious?’ asked Lizzy.
I showed her the light.
‘Oh neat,’ she replied, sarcastically.
‘It’s weird how people seem to like you here?’ I joked. ‘Do you think it will change once they get to know you properly?’
Lizzy feigned some laughter and shifted to another rack.
‘What was it like living next to Rachel?’ she asked.
‘It was actually fine. I mean, she is a total bogan, but behind all the bourbons and the swearing, she’s a good person. I was a bit of a mess when she found me in that gaming room.’
Lizzy nodded.
‘She didn’t find her kids or anything?’ she asked.
‘Nope,’ I replied.
‘Did you tell her about the Curator?’ she asked.
I nodded.
‘She didn’t care?’ asked Lizzy.
‘She has a guy that visits her in the spring,’ I replied.
‘Shut up,’ said Lizzy.
‘Serious. He’s a fisherman. They hooked up last year and made plans to meet up once he’s back from his fishing or whatever,’ I replied.
Lizzy was wide-eyed in amazement.
‘This fucking city,’ she whispered and shook her head.
I laughed a little.
‘Hey did you know Cara Winters is still stuck in her Residency at the Collective?’ I asked.
Lizzy nodded. ‘It’s tragic. She’s going crazy in there.’
‘Ed said that’s what used to happen sometimes. In the original competition,’ I replied.
‘Art has a messed-up relationship with sanity,’ said Lizzy.
I looked at her and tried to understand what she meant. She held up a navy parka with red chequered lining.
‘Here. Try this,’ she said.
I pulled it on and looked at my reflection in one of the mirrors. Lizzy stood in the foreground and nodded.
‘Come on. You can help me find a camera next door. I want to get some photos of this place before we leave,’ said Lizzy.
We found some bags and packed away the clothes to take back upstairs.
‘Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you something about the auroras,’ I said.
Lizzy glanced at me.
‘When that jet landed I got this weird slideshow of memories. Stuff I remember happening, but I hadn’t thought of for ages. Kind of like my mind had discovered a missing roll of film somewhere,’ I said.
‘Did you fly with Lufthansa sometime in the past?’ she asked.
‘My first trip to Europe. I took a Contiki tour, then trekked through some of Asia,’ I replied.
‘Was that stuff in the slideshow?’ she asked.
‘Yeah,’ I replied.
‘Kirk says that’s how it works. If it’s your aurora jet you get a rush of memories surrounding it,’ said Lizzy.
My aurora jet.
I mulled over the slideshow some more.
‘The last thing I saw was my shuttle ride to the Contiki hotel. I was freaking out,’ I said.
‘How come?’ asked Lizzy
‘I don’t know, really,’ I replied.
Lizzy nodded and pondered this for a moment.
‘Did that happen to you in Carousel, with the Air Canada jet?’ I asked.
‘Kinda. Mine was about our mum,’ she replied.
I waited to see if she would elaborate, but the topic seemed somehow raw. Lizzy picked up the bags and looked around for the camera store.
‘How many others have you had since you arrived?’ I asked.
‘None so far,’ said Lizzy and left me for the foyer.
I hovered behind and watched her lonely figure drifting past the haunting, empty stores.
29
Chess woke us late into the night. He let out a shrill and solitary bark, then began to whimper. I was ripped from a dream and sat upright on Lizzy’s couch.
‘Easy, Chessy. What’s up?’ whispered Lizzy somewhere behind me.
I looked around and noticed a couple of candles being lit in neighbouring enclosures. Chess continued to whimper. But he looked more excited than distressed.
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‘Nox. Is your bag ready?’ asked Lizzy.
‘Yeah,’ I replied.
‘Get dressed. There could be a jet coming,’ she said.
I stood up and felt around for my torch. More lights popped up along the lounge. The murmur of voices accompanied them. Lizzy sat and pulled on her boots beside me. Her pupils glimmered with a flicker of moonlight from the tarmac.
‘If there’s an aurora we need to move fast. Some of them only last for a few seconds and the Bulls are less spooked at night,’ she said.
‘Which way do we go?’ I asked.
‘Just follow me once we’re on the bikes. Stick to open areas. That way if they see us we can outrun them,’ said Lizzy.
She stood up and pulled on her backpack. I followed and we torched our way out of the enclosure. We weaved through some tables and rounded the empty buffet area. Chess had quietened, happy to be on the move.
As we approached the edge of the lounge I noticed the silhouettes of other Artists already at the windows. They stood in small clusters, peering out at the sky and tarmac. Some of them were shouldering bags like Lizzy and I. Kirk was there with his tripod and camera. He didn’t have a bag.
We found a place by the glass and looked out into the abyss. The moon was hidden by a thick bank of clouds to the west. A hazy glow filtered down onto the tarmac, offering a whisper of light from the reflective paint, but nothing more. A shadow with a backpack shifted across to Lizzy. They spoke for a moment and hugged briefly, before the person slipped back into the darkness.
The lounge was deathly quiet. My eyes flickered from sky to runway.
‘There it is!’ whispered Lizzy.
I saw a flash of light to my left before my vision filled with a swimming mass of memories. Danni and I as kids on a plane. A youngish and dorky version of our parents sitting across from us. Mum’s reassuring smile as the plane descended. Dad pointing for us to look out the window. The warmth of our clammy faces pressed together as we peered out. The tiny dots of more houses than I could have ever imagined.
‘Nox?’
I waited to see more.
‘Nox!’
Lizzy shook my shoulder.
‘Nox, let’s go,’ she said.
I caught a glimpse of the flashing hulk of a Qantas jet coming in to land before I spun around and ran for the bikes. People with bags were moving all around us. Lizzy had convinced a whole bunch of them. The Auroraport community were heading back to their Residencies.
We raced down a bank of static escalators to where I had stashed our bikes. This was ground floor but I had no idea which of the doors Lizzy planned to exit. Rather than wheeling the bike, she climbed aboard and pedalled off through the foyer. There was luggage to dodge, but not as much as the domestic terminal. We weaved in and out, one hand on the bike, the other holding a torch. I could make out the chequered back of Chess slinking along beside us.
Lizzy stopped and swung her torch sideways. A series of electronic sliding doors glinted back. They looked secure. She shifted her light to the next set of doors. These had a crowbar resting on the floor beside them.
We rode over and Lizzy looked outside cautiously. There were taxis. Shuttle busses. A car park. No Bulls that we could see.
Lizzy got off and I held her bike while she used the crowbar to lever the doors apart. They opened without fuss and we wheeled out into the chilly winter air. Together we pushed the door back in place. There were flashes of light bouncing around the terminal inside. Kirk was still taking shots of the jet from the windows above. He was sticking around. Maybe forever.
I followed Lizzy along roads and walkways as we made our way out of the set-down zone. The noise of the aurora jet was fading fast. I tried hard to stay focused. The hit of memories had left me feeling vague and milky. The parked cars were next and we wanted to avoid these if we could. Lizzy fanned out and linked up to a walkway that seemed to circle the car bays. We followed this along and shone our lights around for an exit sign. My torch hit on one, but it was across a car bay.
‘Lizzy,’ I whispered.
She stopped and I circled the sign. We hesitated and Chess looked up at us nervously. I caught distant flickers of torchlight to the east and west of us where other Artists had split up to avoid the Bulls and were also making their escape. It was only a hundred metres or so to the sign, then we would be in the clear. Lizzy pulled her bike up and over a kerb and set off into the cars.
We crisscrossed through the rows of sleeping vehicles as fast as we could in the darkness. Each row stole our view of the exit and we had to pause more than once to keep our direction. Nearing the end I rolled over an exit arrow on the bitumen. I called for Lizzy to stop. She whipped around and looked at me. I showed her the arrow with my torch. She backtracked and we were about to head out through the final turn when Chess yelped behind us.
He was frozen like a statue at the rear of a car. There were Bulls crowded beneath the vehicle. At least three. Maybe more. Sheltering there until the aurora jet had passed. Until now.
Chess yelped again and actually took a step towards them.
‘Chessy, no,’ whispered Lizzy.
He hesitated and glanced sideways at her. One of the Bulls snarled in the darkness. Claws scraped across bitumen. The Bulls came bombing out towards us.
Chess leapt backward and skittered away from them. We took off for the exit. My bike felt hulkish and slow beneath me. I pushed hard at the pedals and finally gained some speed when a Bull bit my back tyre and I flew over the handlebars.
I barely missed Lizzy and Chess ahead of me and landed with a thump at their side. Everything was black and I figured I had knocked myself out until a sweep of torchlight hovered on my face. Then I heard Chess barking and a long spraying sound.
Abruptly there was something next to me. I focused and made out the squashed and ugly face of a pit bull. It was no more than a foot away.
‘Shit,’ I groaned.
The Bull looked at me and twitched, but didn’t shift. It was struggling to breathe.
‘Get on my bike, Nox!’ said Lizzy.
I struggled to my feet under the weight of my backpack. Lizzy and Chess were between me and the other Bulls. They were starting to recover from the bug spray.
Lizzy’s bike was sprawled across the road alongside her backpack. I picked it up and climbed on. Lizzy ignored her backpack and slid onto the seat behind me. I tried to pedal but there wasn’t enough room for both of us and she slipped off the back.
‘Take off your backpack,’ said Lizzy.
I unclipped the front strap and Lizzy ripped it off. Something triggered in my head.
‘Don’t leave it!’ I said.
‘Why?’ yelled Lizzy.
One of the Bulls was heading straight for us. Lizzy looked at me for an answer but I couldn’t find the words.
She hurled the bag at the Bull and jumped back on the bike. I pedalled us forward to where Chess was waiting by a parking gate. We swerved around it and out onto an open road. The Bull was right behind us.
‘The gears, Nox!’ yelled Lizzy.
I changed up and we gathered some speed. Ahead of us was a roundabout and some roads heading out of the airport. I swung us east, back towards the highway I had arrived on. Chess whipped along beside us.
‘Can you see them?’ I yelled to Lizzy.
She turned back.
‘No,’ she replied.
‘Do you still have your album?’ I asked.
‘Yeah,’ said Lizzy, tapping a pocket on her jacket.
I took a breath and slowed a little. The airport buildings had thinned beside us and the highway lay just ahead. I had found Lizzy Finn and we were heading for the ocean. It should have been a great moment. But all I could think about was my bag lying back there in the car park. And my first ever novel, unfinished inside.
30
We rode through the night like the ghosts of another world. Shaken and cold. Nothing to our name but a rusty bike and a shivering border collie. The highw
ay took us east for a time, then swung north and plunged like a river through sleeping, windblown suburbs. To stop and shelter would be to find an exit and take our chances amid those dark and barren streets. So we kept riding and eventually watched the sunrise over the charcoaled hills of the horizon.
Later into the morning Lizzy spotted a petrol station at an intersection to the west of us. We took the next exit and stopped for some water and stale trail mix. There were no other stores around so we rested just briefly, then returned to the highway. I let Lizzy pedal for a while as the aches from my fall began to register. My shoulder had taken the worst of it and was numb until I lifted my arm and felt razors of pain shooting down to my elbow. I was grazed and bloody at my knees and had a stinging scratch somewhere on my forehead.
It rained and we sheltered by the side of a freight truck, then off the highway at a primary school. Lizzy found the nurse’s room and bandaged me up as well as she could. There was a dry coat in there that was her size, but ugly as all hell. I watched her weighing up whether to swap it for the damp ski jacket she was wearing. We left without it when the rain seemed to lighten.
That night we spent buried by blankets in a furniture store. The next in a caravan on display at an expo. We found new bikes and scatterings of food and continued northward without much discussion. We were on the main freeway now. It traced the coastline for miles in either direction. Lizzy had questioned my desire to keep heading north. We were already a long way past the city and, in all likelihood, Taylor would be somewhere to the south of us now. But we couldn’t be sure, and once we hit the coast we would have to choose to search either north or south. My thinking from our first discussion at the Auroraport was to start out a long way north, then feel confident of finding her somewhere on our journey southwards.
When it felt as though the freeway was nearing its northern end, we took an exit and turned to the west. It was suddenly hilly and green and, for a while, the sun broke away from the clouds. We coasted the downhills slackly and edged meekly over each of the rises. Our bodies needed proper food and rest. Chess included. Eventually the parklands dropped away and we made out the blocky lines of a shopping complex up ahead.
Beyond Carousel Page 16