Disharmony

by Leah Giarratano

  Luke raised his own brows and made a little O with his mouth. He dropped his eyes to his plate and then cast them over to Toad’s. Smiling, he picked up his piece of toast and turned it over a couple of times, studying it. Finally, he shrugged and took a quick look around the room for the screws. No one close. He raised the toast to his mouth. He opened wide and took a big lick, front and back. He stretched his arm across the table with his offering, his expression kind, warm: Do you want this, Toad? He let the bread drop back onto his plate. Kitkat and Jonas did a poor job of trying to muffle their laughter and Mr Singh headed their way.

  When breakfast was over, Luke sighed with relief when Singh ordered them all into their lines to march up the steep hill to the ovals. He watched Zac’s back all the way up there, replaying that flying kick from last night. How the hell did this skinny kid get himself up that high? There were a lot of things he wanted to know about Nguyen.

  It was freezing. When they reached the oval, for once everyone in Dorm Four stamped impatiently to begin the run. There was no sign of any sun again today, and with the gunmetal grey cloud low overhead, it felt as though dawn hadn’t yet broken. But even Toad seemed wide awake, rubbing his big red hands together for warmth, looking back over his shoulder at Singh, waiting for him to signal them to start. Everyone wanted a chance to find out more about the kid who’d escaped.

  Singh’s whistle split the air and they were off. From the front of the pack, Zac took three bounding strides, and despite Luke being ready for the move, he had to flat-out sprint to catch him. He lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of Zac’s sweatshirt.

  ‘Not so fast, superman,’ he said. ‘You’re running with me this morning.’

  Zac flicked a glance back at him. ‘You call what you do running?’ he said. He pointed with his chin. Luke saw Jonas, Kitkat and Barry jostling to catch them up. ‘Well, unless you want the rest of your girlfriends joining us, maybe you could at least make it a little more than a walk this morning?’

  Luke put on a burst and ran with Zac, trying to match him, stride for stride. The freezing air burned through his lungs and his cold calf muscles cramped. He faltered, and Zac, springing along beside him, smirked, lifted an eyebrow. Luke pushed through the spasm. He and Zac were a quarter of the oval clear of the next runner.

  ‘What the hell… happened last night?’ gasped Luke.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Zac.

  ‘Abrafo,’ said Luke.

  ‘Yes?’ said Zac.

  ‘How do you know him?’

  ‘We go way back.’

  ‘Why did you fight?’

  Trying to breathe as he ran, Luke had to keep his sentences brief. Nguyen seemed to be strolling, but Luke only ran this fast during police chases. The stilted conversation frustrated the hell out of him. He wanted to know more right now.

  ‘It’s complicated,’ said Zac.

  ‘Aaarrgh! Well, what happened at the end there?’

  Luke held his side as he ran. He had a stitch, but he wasn’t about to slow down now. ‘Why did you tell me to move?’

  ‘Abrafo was going to kill you.’

  Luke faltered, then kicked it up again as Zac ran ahead of him.

  ‘He doesn’t even know me,’ he shouted at Zac’s back.

  ‘He knows you.’

  Luke could just hear the words. He pushed harder to catch up. ‘I’ve never seen him before in my life,’ he managed.

  Zac just ran.

  ‘He didn’t even know my name,’ said Luke.

  Nothing.

  ‘He called me Lucifer,’ Luke tried again.

  ‘Maybe that’s your name,’ said Zac, putting on another burst.

  Luke reached forward and grabbed Zac’s arm, wrenching it backwards, slowing him. ‘I don’t know what your problem is, Nguyen,’ he gasped. ‘But I want to know what the hell you and that freak are talking about.’

  Zac stopped, faced Luke and looked him in the eye. They’d reached the goalposts and Travis was almost within hearing distance. Luke sucked in air while Zac spoke calmly, giving no sign that he’d been running.

  ‘Later,’ he said. ‘This is not the time. When we get to the woods, just step off the track and run for the trees.’

  He began to jog again.

  ‘Are you mad?’ said Luke, stumbling along behind him. ‘Singh will put us in segro for a month.’

  ‘Just follow me,’ said Zac, over his shoulder. ‘And try to actually run, would you, you girl. I don’t know how you people get anywhere.’

  Luke concentrated on trying to keep up, but it was impossible. Nguyen ran so fast he had no time to think about what was going to happen next. Travis Roberts now ran at his side. Luke kept his face averted – he didn’t want to have to answer anyone’s questions. Everyone knew that he and Zac were there when the new guy took off and Travis would want the lowdown.

  The wooded area that flanked the oval was just ahead of Zac now. Luke glanced back towards the start line and saw Singh standing at attention, watching them all closely. Luke would bet his lock pick that all the screws had been told to make extra sure that no one was out of sight for a single second today. They’d have to call the police to find Abrafo this morning. He’d be long gone. And that would not go well for the screws. And if the media learned of the escape… He figured that Ms McNichol had better have plenty of maternity leave and a great union rep, or she’d be in the unemployment queue as soon as she’d popped out McNichol Junior.

  With each step he took, he became even more certain that there was just no way they could run from the oval into the bush without Singh spotting them immediately and sending someone after them. Whatever. Luke figured he’d get at least five to eight minutes to question Nguyen, and later he might be able to talk his way out of being sent to segro. Yeah, right. He sighed. He did not need this. He didn’t need anyone. He’d had this place sorted before Zac showed up. He decided that he did not like this feeling at all – needing someone. The way he remembered it, he’d given up on that idea when he was two.

  Luke watched the mist from the morning-wet soil swirling around Zac’s shoes as he ran. It only heightened the illusion that his feet didn’t even touch the ground. Zac was parallel to the woods now, and Luke put on an extra spurt to try to catch up. Zac had told him to stay close. At the same time he knew the plan was hopeless, and he felt vaguely disappointed.

  It looked as though Zac was just going to keep running anyway. Of course he’s not going to try it, he thought. There’s no bloody point.

  And then Zac disappeared.

  Luke stumbled, but Travis ran on, breathing hard, running in sync with him. He didn’t seem to have noticed anything at all, which was bizarre, as Zac had been the only person ahead of them. What the hell? That kid is seriously fast, he thought. I must have only blinked and he was gone. Oh well. No way I can run like that. Nevertheless, he tried to draw even deeper breaths, ready to give it a go.

  He and Travis hit the spot. Now or never, he thought, and bolted to the right, straight for the trees. He was sure that Travis would yell out in surprise, or at least stop and watch, but to his credit, Roberts did nothing. He just ran on as though nothing at all had happened. Good on him, thought Luke. That’ll give us a little more time at least.

  The ground was much wetter off the track and boggy patches sucked at his feet as he sprinted. He felt freezing water slosh over the rim of his sneakers; his shoes squelched with each step. Great.

  He reached the first of the grey eucalyptus trees, sentinels guarding the entry to this patch of woodland. He’d never been this far off the running track, and he was already way out of bounds.

  Where’s Zac? he wondered, slowing as he passed the first of the dripping trees.

  In here, the dim morning light was even weaker. Just beyond the first edge of the wood, it became pretty much dark. He stepped cautiously in the gloom, listening carefully, leaves and branches moving wetly underfoot. The trees huddled together in the winter fog, and Luke could hear nothing but h
is footsteps, his breathing, slowing now, and the blood still pounding in his ears. The sounds of the others on the oval had vanished completely.

  ‘Nguyen,’ he whispered. ‘You in here?’

  Nothing. Great. Where the hell is he?

  ‘Zac?’ he tried again. Louder now.

  ‘In here.’

  The voice came from deeper in the wood and Luke frowned, annoyed. Any minute now Singh would notice them missing.

  The events of last night were replaying in his mind, itching at his subconscious.

  Nothing had seemed right from the moment Abrafo had walked into the Admin building, but it was obvious that Zac knew more about it than he did. And Luke did not like that. He made it his mission to understand everything he could about every environment he was thrown into. Until last night, Dwight had been predictable and was about as safe as anywhere else he could remember living. But now there was something he didn’t understand. He trudged further into the woods.

  The air was frigid and he picked his way forward through mist and the steam of his breath. A deep, musty smell wafted up from the sodden soil and leaf matter.

  ‘Nguyen?’ he called.

  ‘Yep. Right here.’

  Zac was crouched at the base of a tree, grinning. ‘These are those mushrooms I was telling you about,’ he said. ‘The Yellow Stainers. Here. Put these in your pocket, but whatever you do, don’t put your hands near your mouth until you wash.’

  Luke stared. ‘You said you found these when we were out running the other day. Have you been in here before?’

  Zac grinned and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘You’re a weird one, Nguyen,’ said Luke, holding out his hand and pocketing the mushrooms. They looked just like the mushrooms he’d seen in the shops. Whatever.

  ‘Who is Abrafo?’ he said.

  ‘Um, a bad guy,’ said Zac, squatting again.

  In the gloom, Luke couldn’t see his face.

  ‘Why did he call me Lucifer?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know. Do you?’ said Zac.

  ‘Um, hello. Why would I ask you if I knew that?’ Luke shook his head. ‘Why were you fighting him?’

  ‘To protect you,’ said Zac, looking up. The skin of his face seemed to glow, but his dark hair and eyes were like pockets of the forest.

  ‘Protect me? Why? What are you talking about?’

  Zac shrugged and stood. ‘It’s why I’m here,’ he said.

  Zac was a head shorter than Luke, and thin as a rake, but Luke had seen him fight. He didn’t mind that this kid was on his side, but he sure as hell had no idea why Zac would want to protect him. What was the catch? No one did something for nothing.

  ‘What are you talking about, Nguyen? You told me you were locked up because of an assault charge.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Well, who did you assault?’

  ‘Zecko Sevic.’

  ‘What! My case worker? How the hell do you know him? Why did you assault him?’

  ‘He was going to come after you again. That’s when the Council decided they needed to send someone in to protect you. I guess, though, after Zecko’s run-in with me, your enemies finally figured that he wasn’t going to get the job done. So they sent in Abrafo.’

  Luke forgot about Singh and the others running on the oval. He forgot about the fact that he was standing in a freezing, boggy wood in winter. He sat down in the grass and put his head in his hands.

  ‘What are you talking about, Nguyen?’ he said through his fingers.

  ‘Well, don’t you ever wonder why you’re always getting hammered, Luke?’ said Zac, standing above him.

  ‘Not really,’ said Luke. ‘That’s life.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe. But you attract more than your fair share of haters, wouldn’t you say?’

  Luke felt water seeping in through his tracksuit pants. He stood quickly, brushing at his backside, frowning.

  ‘Well, yeah, I guess so. Especially lately,’ he said. ‘But what have you got to do with it?’

  ‘They don’t tell me a lot,’ said Zac. ‘I’m kind of new at this.’

  ‘What are you new at? Being a bodyguard for kids in lockup?’ Luke shuffled in the grass, freezing now that his bum was wet. ‘And who’s they? Who’s this Council that told you to protect me?’

  ‘You don’t know them,’ said Zac.

  ‘Well, how do they know me?’

  ‘They’ve never met you either. But there are some people out there who want to help you.’

  ‘Why me?’ said Luke.

  None of this made any sense, and he’d ninety-nine per cent made up his mind that Zac Nguyen was insane and was making all this up as he went along. He was suddenly much less curious and more amused by what this crazy kid would come out with next.

  ‘That bit I really don’t know,’ said Zac, bending over to pick a few more mushrooms. ‘I mean, you can’t run, and you definitely can’t fight. I don’t know what it is that’s supposed to make you so special. They just told me to do whatever I had to do to stop anyone killing you.’

  Luke laughed. ‘You’re a nutter,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, well, Abrafo’s still going to try to kill you.’

  ‘You are completely mental. Do you do drugs? Abrafo escaped. Remember?’

  ‘He’ll be around here. Waiting for a chance,’ said Zac. ‘And that reminds me. We should get back.’

  ‘Well, that’s the first thing we agree on, Zac. Let’s get me, these mushrooms, and your crazy arse back out there to cop our punishment.’

  Trudging back through the woods, Luke figured he’d see where Zac’s fantasy story took him next.

  ‘What makes you think that Abrafo would hang around to hunt me after he’d already escaped?’ he said.

  ‘Because I would,’ said Zac.

  ***

  Pausing at the edge of the trees, Luke was sure he’d see Dorm Four in army lines at the head of the oval, with at least four screws in the fields searching for them. But when he stepped out of the woods, what he saw was Kitkat, Jonas and Barry shuffling along on the track ahead of him, deep in conversation. Travis, Toad, Clarkson, Hooley and the others were also still running laps. Mr Singh stood tiredly at the starting point.

  ‘What do we do now?’ he whispered to Zac, next to him.

  ‘Just run in and join them,’ said Zac. ‘Come on.’

  Luke stared after Nguyen running back to the oval. He waited for the whistle from Singh, but Zac rejoined the rest of the dorm without incident and quickly overtook everyone on the straight. Luke knew he’d never be as lucky, but he set off fast across the thirty-metre stretch between the woods and the running track. He fell into step next to Hong Lo.

  ‘Hey, Black,’ said Hong. ‘Did someone really escape last night?’

  Luke blinked. Hong seemed not to have noticed that he’d just bolted out of the bushes.

  ‘Um, yeah,’ he said.

  ‘Cool,’ said Hong.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Luke, thinking, I can’t believe we got away with it.

  ‘Who was he?’ said Hong. ‘You saw him, didn’t you? Everyone’s saying he assaulted Ms McNichol and Matron and that you fainted! Is it true?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, what does he look like?’ said Hong Lo.

  ‘Oh, just your average bloke, really,’ said Luke. ‘Nothing much to look at.’

  ‘You reckon they’ll catch him, then?’

  Luke concentrated on his sodden sneakers for a moment.

  ‘Nah,’ he said finally. ‘I reckon he’s long gone, Lo.’

  A camp on the outskirts of Pantelimon, Bucharest, Romania

  June 29, 3.38 a.m.

  Oody kept her awake most of the night with his snoring and snuffling, but regardless, Samantha refused to let go of Tamas’s dog. She felt safer with him by her side. Although he slept deeply, Oody was always the first dog in the camp awake and barking if any stranger approached. But she doubted she’d have slept much at all, even if Oody had been settled. Her mind was an mpeg pla
yer programmed to random selection, and the images shuffled ceaselessly: from swords to nunchucks, glue-sniffing street kids to gunfire, tattoos to hissing ninja women.

  And then to the wrath of Milosh and Esmeralda when she and Mirela had finally made it back to camp.

  Breaking through the images were the thoughts about what she’d done to Scarface – somehow sending her energy directly into his mind, altering it. She’d always been aware that she could focus upon positive thoughts and concentrate her goodwill, and it seemed to calm people, but she’d assumed that it was the power of Goddess Gaia that gave them peace. But yesterday, she had felt her heart actually touch Scarface, inside him. And he felt different afterwards.

  Lying on top of her soft, feathered eiderdown, Oody curled into her side, uncomfortably hot, she wondered what might have happened had she pushed harder.

  Suddenly, it felt as though there were no sky. Nothing above her; the universe limitless, open to her. She wondered whether she could actually have made her captor use his sword to protect her. She dismissed the thought as soon as she had it. He’d felt sorry for her briefly, that was all.

  And there definitely was a sky above her. An endless Romanian summer-night sky, an inverse inky ocean. She used the stars as a distraction, concentrating on mapping the constellations. But the memories of yesterday were too real. Two images in particular – Birthday being bashed, and Scarface tracing sword-circles above Mirela, unconscious on the road – made her shoot her thoughts up into the heavens. Somehow, imagining herself up there on a star, looking down at the camp, at herself cradling Oody, helped her to cope with the thoughts of what had happened yesterday.

  But what had happened yesterday? She still couldn’t get it straight.

  Down in the sewer, Birthday Jones had forced them to run through a tunnel thick with an almost chewable stench of rotten eggs. They’d splashed through filthy puddles and climbed over mounds of steaming, fetid refuse. And when she could run no further, when she was about to drop down into one of the green-sheened stagnant pools, the tunnel opened out into a room of sorts, a cavernous junction where other tunnels met. And there the street kids waited.