Deadlands

by Lily Herne

  ‘This is the training room,’ Ginger said.

  ‘Training for what?’ I was beginning to sound like an echo.

  ‘What do you think? Got to keep in shape. Otherwise them Hatchlings, well, you know.’

  Yet another miniscule door was cut into the earth at the far end of the room. ‘We’re hoooooome!’ Ginger called, opening the door and stepping back so that I could go first.

  By now I was so tired and hungry and bewildered that I wasn’t feeling even slightly wary.

  I walked into another huge area that was furnished like a room from before the War. Squishy couches were dotted around randomly, the roughly plastered walls were painted a vivid blue and there was even a carpet on the floor. But of course I only really took all these details in later. What really held my attention right then were the three people staring at me.

  Ash and Saint were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, but my eye was instantly drawn to the woman sitting on a wide padded bench in the centre of the room. She was even smaller in stature than me and her brown face was a mass of wrinkles. There was something about her – some kind of inner stillness – that instantly reminded me of Gran. I know that sounds like wish-fulfilment, but I’m just telling you how I felt.

  ‘Lele,’ she said. ‘I am so glad Ginger found you.’ She heaved herself to her feet, wincing in pain. I couldn’t tell how old she was, but she was obviously a War veteran – a shiny clump of scar tissue spread over her left cheek, just below her eye – and she moved slowly as if she was testing each limb to see if it would work before she put any weight on it. She took my hand in both of hers. ‘I am Hester. It is wonderful to meet you.’

  ‘You too,’ I said, my manners kicking in. And it was kind of wonderful. I felt immediately at ease around her.

  ‘And you’ve met Saint and Ash, of course.’

  Saint didn’t exactly look pleased to see me, but she gave me a small nod of acknowledgement. Without her sunglasses her eyes looked weirdly naked.

  ‘Hi, Saint,’ I said.

  Ash ignored me completely, but two could play at that game.

  ‘And I imagine you already know Ginger quite well by now,’ Hester said with a smile.

  Ginger winked at me. ‘Yeah. We’re old mates.’

  ‘Now, Lele, you must be hungry and thirsty, no?’

  My stomach grumbled again. ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Please, sit.’

  She gestured towards a brightly coloured sofa, which looked like the most comfortable chair I’d ever seen. I sank into it gratefully while Hester moved towards a small kitchen area. ‘Let me do it, Hester,’ Saint said, but Hester waved her away with an impatient gesture. Everything seemed to be run on electricity. There was even a clanking fridge in the corner of the kitchen, and at the far end of the room I saw something I hadn’t ever seen in the enclave – a television. Ginger’s eyes kept flicking over towards it.

  ‘Not now, Ginger,’ Saint said.

  ‘Yeah, awright.’ He turned to me. ‘Hey, tell you what, later I’ll show you that film I was talking about.’

  I nodded numbly.

  Hester handed me a bowl of bean stew that smelled delicious, and a glass of water so cold that I could barely hold it. I gulped the water down in seconds, and dug into the stew – so hungry that I didn’t feel even slightly self-conscious eating in front of everyone.

  Hester waited until I’d cleaned the bowl.

  ‘Now, Lele,’ she said. ‘You must have many questions. I will do my best to answer them.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She smiled again. ‘Saint tells me that you have heard of us. That you know who we are.’

  ‘You’re the Mall Rats.’

  ‘Ja. Not my choice of name. I suppose you understand the irony? That no one suspects there’s an actual mall out there?’

  I nodded. ‘Why wasn’t it destroyed like the other buildings?’

  ‘That, Lele, I cannot answer. It is a mystery only the Guardians have the answer to.’

  ‘But . . . who else knows it’s there?’

  She shrugged. ‘As far as we are aware, only my team.’

  ‘But that’s impossible! Surely the embassy – the Resurrectionists – must know?’

  ‘Not as far as we know. Besides, what does it matter if they know it exists? They cannot go there, can they?’

  ‘Not without getting smooshed, anyway,’ Ginger said. ‘But you don’t have that problem, eh, Lele?’

  Something struck me. ‘Hey! How did you know the Rotters couldn’t see me, anyway?’

  Hester smiled. ‘Saint?’

  ‘We followed you,’ Saint said.

  ‘When?’

  ‘When you were in the mall. You wouldn’t have made it anywhere near that far if they could sense you.’

  My head was beginning to spin again. I opened my mouth to ask the next question, but Hester spoke first. ‘And I suppose you have figured out why Ginger brought you to meet me.’

  ‘Um . . .’

  ‘We would like to invite you to join us.’

  ‘Join you? Me? Why?’

  ‘Why do you think? You have a very special talent.’

  ‘But . . . I can’t. I have to get back – get back to my brother.’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible, Lele.’

  I stood up. ‘You’d keep me here against my will?’

  ‘No, of course not. But you must understand: you have been out of the enclave.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Think about it. Everyone thinks you have been sent out into the Deadlands. The Resurrectionists, well, if they saw you, they would take you in for questioning.’

  ‘And we all know where that leads,’ Saint said with a snort.

  ‘I don’t,’ I said.

  ‘Let’s just say that once you’ve been taken for questioning, you’re not likely to leave in a hurry.’

  ‘I don’t get it.’

  Ash sighed and shook his head as if I was the stupidest person he’d ever encountered.

  ‘Just what is your problem with me?’ I snapped at him.

  ‘Whoa! You go, girl!’ Ginger said in a silly high-pitched voice. I knew he was making fun of me, but I couldn’t help smiling at him.

  ‘And we don’t know what the Guardians would do if they knew about you,’ Hester said.

  ‘But they’ll know I’m missing, won’t they? I mean, when they look in the wagon. And who says that the others didn’t escape?’

  ‘They didn’t,’ Saint said. ‘And as far as the Guardians are aware, you’re just another Rotter by now.’

  I shuddered. ‘Are you guys part of the ANZ?’

  ‘No, Lele,’ Hester said with a smile.

  ‘And you’re obviously not Resurrectionists.’

  ‘Obviously not,’ Saint snapped.

  ‘Lone wolves, that’s what we are, Lele,’ Ginger said. ‘We run in the night, masters of our own destiny, renegades, rule-breakers –’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Ginger,’ Hester said.

  ‘And if I join you . . . what’s in it for me?’ I said, doing my best to sound world-weary and wise, although my heart was galloping in my chest.

  ‘Cut of the profits,’ Saint said. ‘Same as everyone else.’

  ‘How much do you make?’

  ‘More than you’ve ever seen, sweetie,’ she replied.

  It had already occurred to me, now knowing about my special skill, that I could probably make it back to the Agriculturals without being attacked by the Rotters, although I couldn’t say the same for my brother. But if I had enough trade credits, I thought, perhaps there was a chance that I’d be able to hire a cart to transport Jobe safely through the Deadlands and away from the threat of Mandela House. Or bribe someone to smuggle us into the back of a transport or mail wagon.

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Count me in.’

  ‘It’s not as easy as that,’ Saint said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If you’re in, you have to be all the way in, if you know
what I’m saying.’ She looked over at Ash, who gave her a wink.

  ‘You have to understand. What we are doing here – it’s unorthodox,’ Hester said.

  ‘But all the kids at my school – they all wear clothes from before,’ I replied.

  ‘Yes. But no one knows exactly where the stuff comes from, do they? And we can’t have a spy in our midst,’ Saint said.

  ‘I’m not a spy!’

  ‘Lele. It is unfortunate that you . . . lost Ash and Saint,’ Hester gave them a look, and they shrugged uncomfortably. ‘But you see there are things you have to learn before you can start earning credits. For example, you can’t just walk into the mall and help yourself. There are rules you must follow.’ She coughed slightly. ‘Continue, please, Saint.’

  ‘There are certain things we can’t bring back. That you mustn’t touch, or the Guardians . . .’

  ‘The Guardians will what?’

  ‘We’ve seen them in action,’ Saint said quietly. ‘One of us . . . she . . .’ Her voice faltered and she and Ash shared a glance that I couldn’t read.

  ‘So what sort of stuff can’t you fetch back from the mall?’

  ‘Like anything that could be used as a weapon. And no medical supplies.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Figure it out,’ Saint said. ‘It’s not rocket science.’

  I glared at her, but decided not to ask what the hell she was talking about in case I looked stupid. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘What else?’

  Ginger spoke up. ‘See, mate, the first rule of Mall Rats is: Never talk about Mall Rats.’

  Saint groaned. ‘Here we go.’

  ‘And the second rule of Mall Rats, is: Never talk about Mall Rats.’

  ‘I got it the first time,’ I said to him.

  ‘Like in Fight Club,’ Ginger said proudly.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Ginger is obsessed with movies, Lele,’ Hester said.

  ‘It’s true, I am.’ He nodded.

  ‘So what’s the third rule?’ I asked. ‘Never talk about Mall Rats?’

  ‘No,’ Ash said, speaking up unexpectedly. I found myself staring into his eyes – that peculiar mix of dark brown and grey. ‘The third rule is: If you ever see Ginger running, run after him as fast as you can.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Hey! Don’t diss me in front of the newbie, Ash,’ Ginger said, but he was smiling.

  Saint punched him playfully on the shoulder, and he pretended to wince in pain before bursting into giggles again. Hester shook her head and rolled her eyes. It was clear that they all knew each other really well – as if they were part of a family – and I started to feel left out and self-conscious.

  As if she’d picked up on this, Hester approached, bent down and kissed me on the cheek. ‘It is settled, Lele. Welcome to the team.’

  Ginger gave me a bear hug that lifted me right off my feet and Saint walked over and shook my hand briskly.

  Only Ash remained where he was.

  12

  ‘Bathroom’s in here,’ Saint said, pointing to a low wooden door that was cut into one of the tunnel walls.

  I peered in. There was a compost toilet, a sink and even a shower. I longed to wash away the dirt and dust and sweat of the last two days, but Saint was having none of it. ‘Come on,’ she said, leading me further down the corridor. ‘You’ll be sharing with me,’ she added, not looking too charmed at the thought.

  The room was small and the two mattresses on the floor took up most of the space. I had to admit it was cosy, though. A poster of a beautiful woman wearing skin-tight clothing and posing above the words Tomb Raider was the only decoration.

  ‘Ginger gave me that,’ Saint said. ‘It’s one of his favourite films.’

  ‘Where does he get his movies?’

  ‘His DVDs? The mall, of course. Where we get everything else.’ Saint pointed to a rickety cupboard in the corner. ‘You can stash your stuff there.’

  ‘I haven’t got any stuff,’ I said. ‘I chucked it after I . . .’ I let my voice trail away. I didn’t want to remind her about whacking her in the stomach with my bag.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, you’ll just have to wear what you’ve got until we do another mall run. The last lot’s all been spoken for. And my stuff will be way too big for you.’

  She sat down on the mattress nearest to the wall.

  ‘How long have you lived here?’ I asked her.

  She shrugged. ‘Five years.’

  ‘And Ash and Ginger?’

  ‘Ash has been here a lot longer. Ginger about the same as me.’

  Saint pulled off her leather jacket, and started unravelling the chains that criss-crossed her arms.

  ‘Where did you get those chains?’

  ‘They are my weapons,’ she said, as if that was all I needed to know.

  I flumped down on the mattress, looking up at the wooden beams that held the earth above me at bay, the events of the last twenty-four hours racing through my brain.

  Then I sat up.

  So much had happened that I hadn’t even considered how I’d won the Lottery. I mean, I was supposed to be exempt. The only way I could have won was if someone had engineered it that way.

  Someone had wanted me dead.

  And they’d almost got their wish.

  ‘What is it?’ Saint asked.

  I told her about my suspicions, but she kept her face impassive. ‘I see,’ she said when I’d finished my explanation.

  ‘But don’t you get it? Someone wanted me dead. Someone planned this.’

  ‘You any idea who?’

  ‘It has to be my stepmother.’

  ‘Well, there is nothing you can do about that now. Get used to it.’

  She was right, but there was something final in her tone I didn’t like. She lay down, her back to me.

  ‘Saint?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Where are you from?’

  ‘Same place as you. From here.’

  ‘But you’re not South African.’

  ‘No. I was born in Botswana. Gaborone.’

  ‘So what are you doing here? I mean, how did you end up in South Africa?’

  ‘Nosey girl, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m interested.’

  She sighed, and at first I thought she wasn’t going to answer me. Then she said: ‘I was in boarding school here when it happened. The War.’

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Nine.’

  So she was nineteen. I wondered how old Ash was, and Ginger for that matter. ‘That must have been awful for you,’ I said.

  ‘It wasn’t great.’

  ‘So, you’re like Ginger,’ I said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘No home.’

  ‘You’re wrong there, girl,’ she said. ‘This is my home, and it’s yours too.’

  I almost blurted out the whole plan right then – that as soon as I had enough credits I’d be out of there – but I clamped my mouth shut at the last moment.

  ‘Saint?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How did you become a Mall Rat?’

  ‘Okay, that is enough,’ Saint said. ‘I need to sleep, and I am not here to answer your questions all night, you understand?’

  ‘Yeah, I get it.’

  I lay back, the day’s events continuing to run crazily through my mind, but the mattress was far more comfortable that it looked and within minutes I was dead to the world.

  13

  My mind was still buzzing from everything that had happened the day before, and for a second or two after I woke up I had to struggle to remember where the hell I was.

  Saint’s bed was empty, and all I could hear was the rumble of the generator. Grabbing my filthy jeans and the leather jacket, I padded into the corridor and headed for the bathroom. I didn’t know what the water situation was, but I decided to have a shower anyway, lathering my body with a tube of orange-scented Body Shop shower gel that felt delicious on my skin. There wasn’t a mirror in t
he small room, but as far as I could tell, my body had far fewer bruises and abrasions than I’d been expecting.

  Feeling refreshed, tingly clean and full of nervous excitement, I wandered through the training room and into the kitchen and lounge area.

  Ginger, Ash and Saint were sitting at the table when I walked in, and they all immediately fell silent when they caught sight of me – no prizes for guessing the topic of their conversation.

  ‘Good morning, Lele,’ Hester said. She was stirring a pot on the stove, and she appeared to be genuinely pleased to see me.

  ‘Awright, Lele?’ Ginger said as Saint nodded to me. ‘You have any cool dreams?’

  ‘Can’t remember,’ I said, relaxing slightly even though Ash hadn’t looked up from the book he was reading.

  ‘Hungry, Lele?’ Hester asked.

  ‘Starving,’ I said. Hester handed out bowls of mealiemeal porridge to each of us, and placed a huge jar of honey on the table. I hadn’t tasted honey since I’d left the agricultural enclave and my mouth watered at the sight of it.

  Ginger pushed the pot towards me with a grin. ‘Like that, do you?’ he said.

  ‘My favourite,’ I replied. ‘Where we used to live, there was a guy who kept bees. We’d have fresh honey all summer long.’

  ‘Nice one.’ He chugged back the Coke he was drinking and crushed the can, burping noisily.

  ‘Ginger!’ Hester said.

  ‘Sorry. Can’t help it.’

  ‘You shouldn’t drink so much of that stuff.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Saint said. ‘It’s poison.’

  ‘It’s delicious is what it is,’ he replied, winking at me.

  Ash was still lost in his book. I decided that I wasn’t going to sink to his level, and at least make an attempt at politeness. ‘What are you reading, Ash?’ I asked, trying to sound friendly and interested.

  Without looking at me he held the book up so that I could read the title. Ways of Dying. I’d never heard of it. ‘What’s it about?’ I said, trying again.

  ‘Stuff,’ he said, again without glancing at me.

  I bit back my retort. If he wasn’t going to make an effort, then neither was I. ‘Are we going back to the mall today?’ I asked Hester instead.