by Lily Herne
Finally, I paused outside the front door, holding my breath to listen for any sounds within, but all the windows were dark and the only noise was the occasional moan from the Rotters behind the fence. I turned the handle and walked softly into the kitchen.
I should have thought ahead and brought a torch. I knocked my shin painfully on a wooden chair as I struggled to get my bearings. Praying that I hadn’t alerted anyone to my presence, I stood stock-still and counted to ten. Silence. Then, stupidly, I allowed myself to relax.
‘Don’t move,’ a familiar voice said from the doorway behind me. ‘Stay where you are or you’re dead.’
I whirled around, fists raised. There was the sputtering hiss of a match and an oil lamp flickered into life. The Mantis was staring straight at me, her eyes wide, her usually rigidly plaited hair in disarray. She was clutching a huge kitchen knife in her right hand, the blade glinting in the light, and for the first time I saw a trace of the old warrior in her: she was holding it as if she knew exactly how to use it.
‘There’s nothing to steal here. Leave now or I’ll call the guard.’
‘Hello, Cleo,’ I said, pulling the hood back from my face.
‘Lele!’ she said, and then her body seemed to sag as if her muscles had suddenly decided to stop working.
‘Surprised?’ I asked.
Her mouth opened and closed almost comically, and then a single tear glimmered and ran down her cheek. That threw me. I hadn’t been expecting that reaction. I waited for the anger to take over, but it didn’t come. All I felt was an overwhelming tiredness.
There was the thump of feet in the hallway, and Dad appeared at the door. ‘Lele?’ he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ‘Is it really you?’
He walked towards me as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. In the poor light he looked years older. New lines were etched around his mouth, his clothes hung off his frame and grey stubble peppered his cheeks. He wrapped his arm around me. It had been years since he’d given me a hug – more years than I could remember – and I found myself hugging him back. When I stood back his eyes were wet.
But I couldn’t let my emotions take over. I turned back to the Mantis. ‘So, Cleo,’ I said, doing my best to keep my voice level. ‘Your plan didn’t work. I’m not that easy to get rid of.’
‘What are you talking about, Lele?’ Dad asked, looking from me to the Mantis and back again.
‘Why did you do it?’ I asked. ‘Was it because of Jobe?’
‘Do what?’ She stared at me with what appeared to be genuine confusion.
‘Made sure that I won the Lottery, of course.’
‘I would never do such a thing!’
‘I don’t believe you, Cleo. No one else could have done it.’
She sank into a chair. ‘But, Lele, it was a huge mistake.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Afterwards, Comrade Xhati – he told us that your name had been entered into the draw by mistake. Comrade Nkosi started a whole enquiry. It was just a horrible misunderstanding.’
‘A misunderstanding! How could something like that happen by mistake? It was my life!’
‘Lele!’ Dad said, looking around the kitchen nervously. ‘Keep your voice down.’
I watched the Mantis closely. She really did look relieved to see me. Either she was a brilliant actress or I had, in fact, got it wrong. ‘It really wasn’t you?’
‘Of course not! I know we had our problems, but I would never do something like that. Send you out . . .’ She shuddered.
I slumped down into a chair opposite her.
‘Lele,’ Dad said, his voice soft, ‘what happened? How did you get away?’
‘I can’t tell you that.’
The Mantis opened her mouth to speak.
‘Cleo, really, don’t ask me again.’
Dad moved to the stove and started fussing over it, trying to light a match with his trembling hand. ‘Where have you been all this time, Lele?’ he asked. ‘Why didn’t you come back to us?’
‘Why do you think, Dad? What do you think the Resurrectionists would do if they knew I’d got away from the Guardians? That I was back in the enclave?’
The Mantis opened her mouth again as if to argue with me, but then she just nodded. ‘Lele is right. The less we know the better.’
‘Look, all I want to do is see Jobe and you’ll never have to see me again, okay? I don’t want to cause you any trouble.’
Dad and the Mantis glanced at each other but when I tried to catch their eyes they both looked down at the table.
‘Where is he?’ I asked. ‘Where’s Jobe?’
‘Lele, he –’
They didn’t need to say more. I knew.
I was too late.
Part Three
1
I spent the next few days doing little else but moping around in a depressed fug.
I know I’m probably coming across as some giant crybaby, but I couldn’t help it. I mean, I’d joined the Mall Rats in the first place (or so I’d told myself at the time) so that I could save up and build a better life for Jobe and myself; so that I’d be able to get us out of the city. And now Jobe had been whisked away to Mandela House, and I had no clue what to do. There was a part of me that wanted to rush right over there and bust him out, but then what? For a start, I didn’t even know where Mandela House was. And, let’s face it, at that stage I hadn’t exactly managed to tie up all the loose ends of my vague plan. Without the medicine and other stuff Thabo had asked for I couldn’t trade for transport, and I was pretty sure I didn’t have nearly enough credits to hire a wagon or bribe an official.
And there was something else too. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that it wasn’t the Mantis who’d engineered my Lottery win. Either it had been a near-fatal mistake or I had another enemy out there.
I spent hours sitting in my room, sketching continually, not really seeing what I was drawing. Ginger did his best to entice me out with promises of a movie called Shaun of the Dead, and although it looked like something I’d normally have loved, I knew I wouldn’t be able to take in what was happening on screen. Sick as she was, Hester also tried to cheer me up with anecdotes about her life before the War. And even Saint went out of her way to bring me books and graphic novels she thought I’d like. I was so clearly in a bad way that none of them – not even Ash or Saint – gave me a hard time for sneaking off to Sector 6 in the middle of the night.
‘Come on, Lele,’ Saint said as the days stretched into a week. ‘I’m sure your brother’s fine.’
‘What would you know about it, Saint?’ I snapped at her.
She sighed and left the room, a hurt look in her eyes. Now I could add guilt to the rest of the crap I was feeling.
I turned back to my drawing. I was sketching the contours of the bone pile – accentuating its horrible shape – and the ghastly sight seemed to mirror my mood.
Minutes later I heard the door opening again.
‘Just leave me alone, Saint,’ I said.
‘Lele.’
I turned around to find Ash standing over me.
‘What do you want?’ I asked as he handed me a Resurrectionist robe. ‘What’s this for?’
‘Come on,’ he said.
‘I don’t want to go out,’ I said, probably sounding like a four-year-old.
‘I believe you’ll want to see this,’ he replied, holding my gaze with those unusual eyes of his.
‘Where to?’ I asked.
‘You’ll see,’ he said with a small smile. ‘And I won’t take no for an answer. Ginger’s trying to rope me into watching Zombie Flesh Eaters again. You have to save me.’
I couldn’t help but smile back. I rubbed my face with my hands. ‘Do I look awful?’
For a couple of seconds he seemed to really look at me. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You could never look awful.’
He reached out as if to touch my cheek, and then seemed to think better of it. ‘Come on,’ he said, turn
ing away.
Doing my best to deal with the hectic rush of mixed emotions, I followed him out of the bedroom.
2
‘This? This is Mandela House?’
‘Yeah,’ Ash said.
It was located in the far reaches of New Arrivals, right up against the fence, and seemed to exist in its own little pocket of beforeness. It looked just like the houses I remembered from my childhood. It had a large wrap-around porch, huge picture windows, and, amazingly, it was nestled in the centre of a sizeable lawn. Next to the house there was even a colourful climbing frame and sandpit. But as we approached, I could see gaps in the paintwork where the plaster was crumbling and there were large dead spots in the lawn.
‘This was one of the only buildings left complete after the war,’ Ash said.
‘And the Resurrectionists handed it over to kids like Jobe?’ I said. ‘Why? I would have thought they’d want it for themselves.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘but most of them wouldn’t be seen dead in this part of town, Lele. Surrounded by scum like us.’ He grinned at me. ‘Want to go in?’
‘Can we?’
‘Of course.’
I followed him up on to the stoep and watched as he knocked on the heavy wooden front door. Several seconds later it was opened by a large woman with a mass of light brown hair, dressed in a bright pink overall.
‘Yes?’ she said, slightly apprehensively.
Ash removed his hood. ‘It’s me, Naomi,’ he said.
Her face softened. ‘How lovely to see you!’ She gave him a hug, and I hid my smile behind my hand. He towered over her.
Ash pulled his backpack from his shoulder and passed it to her. ‘I brought you this.’
‘Oh, Jack, you shouldn’t have!’ she said with a wide grin as she pulled out several colouring books, cans of tinned peaches and packets of lime and strawberry jelly. ‘How lovely!’
‘Jack?’ I said to Ash.
He shrugged. ‘Naomi, this is Lele. I believe you know her brother.’
‘His name’s Jobe,’ I said to her. ‘Is he here?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, standing back to let us inside. ‘What a wonderful little boy. Come in, come in, please!’
The house was warm and cosy, the wide windows allowing the sunlight to bathe every inch of the interior.
‘They’re in the playroom,’ Naomi said. ‘Go on through.’
I followed Ash to the back of the house – down a hallway that was painted a cheery yellow, rows of bright handprints stuck all over the walls – and watched as he disappeared through a doorway.
‘Go on, Lele,’ Naomi said, seeing me hang back. ‘Take a look.’
But I was suddenly nervous. My palms were sweating and my heart was thudding in my chest.
Finally, taking a deep breath, not sure what I was about to find, I stepped into the room. There were five or six children sitting on a sheepskin rug in the centre of the floor, all of whom seemed to be Jobe’s size or slightly smaller.
I didn’t recognise Jobe at first. His hair was longer, and he was smiling.
My brother was smiling.
I walked towards him slowly.
‘Jobe?’ I said.
He looked up at me, and his smile widened. ‘Gogo,’ he said as I dropped to my knees and gave him a hug, trying to swallow the tears.
There was a mewling sound from behind me, and Chinwag, who was now almost a fully grown cat, stood up from the sun-bathed cushion she was sitting on, stretched and ambled towards me. She curled her body around my feet.
‘I can’t believe it!’ I said, wiping my face and looking up at Naomi. ‘Jobe seems so . . .’
‘Happy?’ Naomi asked, beaming down at us.
I looked over at Ash, who was sitting next to a small dark-haired girl.
‘This is Sasha,’ he said as she looked up at me. Her eyes were large, and I noticed that one was dark brown, the other grey. ‘She’s my sister.’
3
Ash and I sat side by side in the garden, watching Jobe and Sasha crouching in the sandpit, both of them trailing their fingers through the sand. Although Jobe was still subdued, he seemed more at peace than I’d ever seen him, even in the Agriculturals.
I knew he was happy. He was home.
‘I can’t take him away from this,’ I said to myself.
Ash looked at me sharply. ‘Why would you want to take him away?’
I shrugged. ‘He’s my brother. I miss him. I had some crazy plan for both of us to go back to the Agriculturals.’
‘You did?’ Ash said.
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘I thought this place would be awful. I had no idea he would actually be happier here than at home.’
He nodded. ‘I know what you mean.’
We sat in silence for a while.
‘Ash, can I ask you a question?’
‘Fire away.’
‘Do you ever wonder what they did to them? What the Guardians did to the kids?’
Ash sighed. ‘All the time.’
‘And isn’t it a weird coincidence,’ I said. ‘Us both having . . . rejects as twins. I mean, what are the chances?’
Ash looked slightly uncomfortable for a second. ‘Life’s full of coincidences, Lele,’ he said.
Of course, as I’m sure you’ve probably figured out by now, it wasn’t a coincidence at all.
4
Ash and I stayed with Jobe and Sasha until the light started to die and Naomi began to get the children ready for bed.
‘So, this is what you do with the money you make?’ I asked as we strolled out of the gate together. ‘Pay for your sister to stay at Mandela House?’
Ash nodded. ‘Naomi would let Sasha stay for free – she’s like that – but I like to help out.’
We both stood for a second, watching the last of the bright light dancing over the roof. ‘We’d better get back,’ he finally said.
I turned to face him. ‘Thank you for doing this, Ash,’ I said. ‘I needed to see him like this.’
‘I know,’ he replied, taking my hand and snaking his fingers through mine. I tried to make out his expression, but the shadow under his hood hid his face. ‘Is this okay?’ he asked.
I didn’t know what to say. I just found myself nodding. I know what you’re thinking – and I hadn’t forgotten about Thabo – but at that moment, being with Ash . . . it just felt natural. But other than that, I haven’t got an excuse.
We strolled through the alleyways hand in hand, cutting past groups of people also making the most of the last of the day’s light. Someone nearby was playing guitar, and we stopped to listen for a few seconds. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. I felt at peace. It was a feeling I wasn’t used to, and I remember thinking that I wouldn’t care if the evening stretched on forever.
But this is my life, and nothing ever seems to run smoothly.
One second I was strolling along contentedly, the next I found myself being yanked roughly into an alleyway.
5
My reactions kicked in too late. Spinning around, I forced my arm out of the grasp of whoever was holding me, but my hood had already been snatched off my head and the more I struggled the tighter the collar of the robe dug into my neck, choking me.
‘Get away from her!’ Ash yelled. Neither of us had any weapons, but Ash had years of fighting experience behind him, and I almost felt sorry for whoever had grabbed me. I let my body go limp, felt the hold on my hood loosen slightly, and then slammed my heel down on top of the foot of whoever it was behind me.
There was a muffled ‘oof’, and then the grip on my hood loosened completely. I whirled around, ready to face my assailant – a tall figure in a Resurrectionist robe.
‘You are so going to regret doing that,’ Ash said, clenching his fists and taking a step forward.
‘Don’t be so sure.’ The figure pulled back his hood, revealing a familiar bunch of dreads.
‘Thabo!’ I said.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Ash asked.
‘I was worried about Lele,’ Thabo said, shooting a bitter glance in my direction. ‘But I can see I shouldn’t have bothered.’
‘Thabo,’ I said, reaching out a hand towards him.
‘Don’t bother, Lele,’ he said. ‘It’s pretty clear where your priorities lie. So you and pretty boy are an item, eh? I should have known.’
‘Hey!’ I said, starting to feel the first familiar stirrings of anger. ‘I’m not some possession, Thabo. Ash is my friend.’
He gave me a withering glance, but I could see the hurt beneath it. ‘What happened to “I’ll try to help”?’ he asked. ‘I haven’t heard from you in days. Days, Lele.’
‘I did try,’ I said, afraid to check out Ash’s reaction to this. ‘It was dangerous.’
‘Dangerous? You think what I’m doing isn’t dangerous?’
‘Leave her alone, Thabo,’ Ash said. ‘You’re going about things the wrong way.’
‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘You two know each other?’
‘We’ve met,’ Ash said. ‘Still blowing up civilians, Thabo?’
‘Still ripping off civilians, Ash?’
Ash took a step forwards again, but Thabo held his ground.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you knew the Mall Rats personally, Thabo?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know them,’ he spat. ‘I don’t want to know them.’
‘We met at Lungi’s,’ Ash said.
‘Yeah,’ Thabo said. ‘When he came to get his pound of flesh.’
‘You’ve made things worse for all of us, Thabo,’ Ash said. ‘You and those ANZ stunts.’
Thabo shook his head in disgust. ‘At least I’m doing something other than lining my own pockets. At least I’m working towards a better future.’