My words must have been slowly getting through, for she nodded slowly.
"That's what you've been doing on the anniversaries of his death, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I have these terrible anxiety attacks," she admitted quietly. "Where I work through all my memories of my times with him, trying to find proof, trying to convince myself, that he loved me like I loved him. And it normally takes me a whole day to pull myself out of it. Except for that time in '20 when you got me doing gardening with you. And again today." She suddenly flashed me a warming smile. "Thanks, Ethan; I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Nor I, you," I said as I kissed her affectionately on the forehead, though not without feeling a pang of guilt. For if we couldn't have kids and got divorced, it would be her future husband who comforted her, while I'd have no one.
Nanako was quiet for the rest of the day, but I kept her mind productively occupied by getting her to help me forage for food, including bagging a wallaby, which she prepped and cooked for our dinner. The others noticed she was off colour, but had the sense not to ask probing questions.
I went out for half-an-hour before dusk that evening, and then popped back upstairs to the bedroom, where Nanako was sitting by the window, listening to the white-and-yellow cockatoos that flitted about in a tree outside.
"Where've you been?" she asked.
I sat beside her and pulled out a bowl I'd been hiding behind my back. It was full of the juiciest blackberries I could find.
"Fetching supper," I said with a smile.
"Yum," Nanako laughed, and we tucked into them.
When they were all gone, I pulled a ripe, red-skinned quandong from my pocket. "This is for you too."
"What about you?"
"I could only find one."
"Okay, let's share it then."
"Deal."
Quandongs have rather large pips, so it didn't prove to be much of a meal, but it was tasty all the same.
"I've got one more thing for you," I said, and withdrew a bunch of Australian wildflowers from where I'd tucked it in my belt behind my back.
It was a small bunch, but rich in colours that were still visible in the waning light. There were purple-tinted bluebells, a red-and-orange pincushion that was the centrepiece of the bunch, and green-and-red correas.
"They're beautiful!" Nanako exclaimed softly, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek.
"You're not to go arranging them, okay?" I said playfully, remembering her obsessive compulsion to make professional-looking Japanese-style arrangements of any flowers I gave her.
"Ha-ha," she laughed, and clutched them close to her chest. Then she added, "What did I do to get someone like you?"
"You've got it all wrong," I replied solemnly while I tried to ignore the stab of guilt. (Madison could be wrong!)
"Oh?"
"Yep, it's not 'what did you do to get me,' it's 'what did I do to get someone like you?'"
"Flatterer," she replied, but snuggled closer to me all the same.
The next morning Nanako was much improved, which brought me a massive sense of relief. I didn't want to see her back in that horrible place again. Enough was enough.
The six of us went for a walk in the Catani Gardens to look for berries to supplement our breakfast, when Madison suddenly waltzed over to me and held out her hands, which were still bound, as usual.
"I'm in," she said.
I stared at her, dumbfounded, as did Nanako and the lads.
"In?" I asked, though I knew what she meant.
"I will join your stupid mission to expose the Rangers, but on one condition – that we leave at once. You lot have had ample time to rest and recuperate. The longer we delay, the greater the likelihood of the Skel and Rangers working out how to destroy Newhome."
I drew my Custodian combat knife and placed the sharp blade against the cloth-strip that bound her hands, but looked her in the eye before I cut it. "Fine, condition accepted. But I have one of my own."
"Oh?"
"I am the leader of this mission, and you will do exactly, and I mean exactly, what I say."
Madison shrugged, as though my words meant nothing to her either way. "Fine," she said and shook her hands at me again.
"Don't do it!" David called out.
"Don't trust her!" Leigh added.
I ignored them and cut her bonds. Madison shook off the cords that had bound her wrists, rubbed them, and then gingerly explored and flexed her right bicep.
"One more thing," I added.
"What?"
"I need to teach you stealth techniques – you're as noisy as an elephant."
"I am not!"
"Sorry, but you are," Nanako chipped in. "Even I heard you when you tried to sneak up on us when we were in the truck."
"And you think you know better?" she demanded as she stuck her freckled face in mine.
"I do," I said, smiling broadly. 'Would you like me to demonstrate?"
"Go ahead," she said arrogantly.
"Okay, try to approach me without making a sound," I said as I took ten steps back from her.
"What, right here?"
"Yep."
"Very well," Madison said, and then took ten steps towards me, doing her absolute best effort to make no sound. And failed dismally, to my ears, at any rate.
"Okay, now take ten steps back and compare the sound I make as I approach you, to the sound you made just now when you approached me," I said.
Madison took ten steps back and with an arrogant expression plastered on her face, watched and listened as I took ten steps towards her. By my second step, her arrogant look was gone; by the tenth, she was looking at me with awe.
"Okay! You've convinced me – now teach me."
And so there, in the Catani Gardens, I taught Madison stealth techniques. I showed her how to recognise what to step on and what to avoid, how to keep her weight on her back leg until the raised foot is in position; how to step so that the footfall itself does not make a sound, and how to mask unavoidably noisy footfalls by creating simultaneous inconspicuous sounds with her hands. I showed her how to utilise her surroundings, such as shadows and nearby objects to lessen the chance she may be observed, and which types of terrain create more noise than others.
After we'd spent some time in the Catani Gardens, we retired back to the street and I continued the lesson there, so that she'd be experienced in all types of terrain. And finally, I taught her how to use her flash sonar to check for Skel ambushes, looking inside darkened windows and doorways, in bushes, hedges, and behind trees, even in or behind cars.
Seeing that Madison wasn't going to attack us, but was genuinely trying to learn stealth techniques, the lads had soon grown bored and had gone off searching for food. Finally, Nanako left as well, though she seemed none too pleased I was spending all this time with Madison. It wasn't jealousy in her eyes, though, merely mistrust.
Madison was a quick learner; picking it up faster than the others had.
We were heading slowly up Fitzoy Street practicing moving without making obvious sounds, when Madison suddenly turned and looked at me.
"You got a real bargain with her, didn't you?"
"What are you talking about?" I replied, my hackles going up.
"Your wife. You could've done a lot better than her."
Chapter Twelve
I straightened to my full height and glared down at her. "Nanako's the most amazing, courageous person I've met."
"And mentally ill to boot."
"How dare..." I began.
"Did you think I would not notice?" she pressed, taking a step closer. "All the furtive conversations you two have been having about her problems and history, her racing heartbeat when she's anxious, not to mention her condition yesterday."
"Nanako's been through more than you can possibly imagine, and she's always come through shining," I snapped defensively. I'd never really thought about the fact that Madison could hear every whispered word that went down between Nanako and me, even w
hen she wasn't in the room.
"Oooh, touched a sore spot, did I?"
“Just keep your nose and your stupid comments out of my private life, okay?” I insisted, somehow finding the inner strength to resist smacking her in the mouth.
"You haven't told her yet, have you?" Madison asked, completely ignoring me.
"Told her what?"
"That she cannot have children with you."
"No," I snapped, suddenly terrified that she'd tell Nanako when we got back, causing her to fall prey to more anxiety attacks, if not worse.
"Why not?"
"It's not the right time."
"When will it be?"
"When I say so. Now drop it, will you?"
"Nanako has a right to know," she protested.
"I know, and I will tell her when I feel the time's right; and at the moment, it isn't. So don't you go mentioning it to her, you hear me?"
"What, are you afraid she is going to have another panic attack if you tell her?"
I grabbed Madison's right arm, causing her to wince and cry out from the pain. "Promise me you won't tell her."
"Okay, whatever – just let go, will you?" she answered as she struggled to disengage my fingers with her other hand.
"Thank you," I snapped, letting go. And, having no desire to spend any more time with her today, I turned and headed back to our temporary quarters. Madison didn’t move at first; just stood there massaging her sore arm. However, she came traipsing after me a moment later.
We passed through the restaurant and into the backyard, and found the lads lazing about and Nanako busying herself in the makeshift kitchen she'd put together out here. She heard me coming and turned about, and with a beaming smile, held up a large fish – a snapper.
"I was able to salvage a fishing rod and caught this beauty off the pier," she announced proudly.
"We're having fish tonight," Shorty said, parroting an advert that used to drive us crazy on the TV back in Newhome.
"Can't wait," I said, doing my absolute best to look delighted, for inside I was still seething with anger at Madison.
* * *
We'd gone for our evening run after dusk and had adjourned back to our lodgings. As usual, we didn't light any candles or fires, for that could've given away our position should any Skel be snooping about.
Nanako and I were snuggled up together under the window. I was lying on my back on the floor, with my head on a pillow fashioned from an old sofa-cushion. Nanako was lying with her head on my shoulder, an arm over my chest, and a leg over my hips. We'd pulled three old woollen blankets over the top of us to keep warm. We'd found the blankets in a cupboard. They'd been ravaged by silverfish and moths, but were dry and mould free, so we'd snaffed 'em up pretty quick.
"You wanna tell me what's bugging you?" Nanako asked softly.
"Who, me?"
"No, the bed bugs. Of course I mean you, you big doofus! You've been all sullen and withdrawn ever since you came back with Madison this afternoon."
"Oh, it’s nothing." I said, mentally kicking myself. I'd tried my hardest to act normally, but I was still angry, not to mention worried that Madison might tell Nanako about us not being able to have kids.
"Doesn’t seem like it to me."
"It’s...just Madison. She’s really, really annoying – I keep hoping I can get through to her, but she's as stubborn as an ox," I said, trying water down the truth. "I'm also kinda stressing about heading into Skel territory tomorrow."
"Do we really have to bring her?"
"She'll be a great asset to the team."
"That remains to be seen, Ethan. I don't trust her as far as I can throw her."
"Seriously, she won't cause any problems for we share the same goal," I assured her.
"It's the other goals she's got mixed in there that concern me!"
"She had ample opportunities to try something underhanded with me today, but she didn't," I said.
"And when her goals and ours no longer align – what then?"
"Okay, I get the message. We'll just have to keep our eye on her," I admitted.
"Hmmm," Nanako said, unconvinced; but she let it drop, thankfully. And then promptly fell asleep.
Unfortunately, due to the turbulent state of my mind, sleep was a long time coming for me.
* * *
I woke from a troubled, nightmare-filled sleep with my mind already churning over Madison's words, as though I'd been arguing with the fears in my sleep.
When Nanako and the others woke, we ate a quick breakfast and quickly gathered as much food as we could find from the Catani Gardens. We'd already refilled our water bottles from Elster Creek when we went on our run last night.
"Do I have to come?" Leigh asked as we were plucking handfuls of blackberries that grew beside the broken bandstand.
"What would you do if you didn't?" I asked, concerned. I didn't want him to go wandering off by himself and get caught by the Skel or Rangers.
"I dunno; maybe try to get to Ballarat?"
"By yourself?"
A great number of emotions fled across Leigh's face as he weighed up his options. “I...ah...”
"What are you, a coward?" Madison asked him bluntly.
"No, I'm not!" Leigh practically shouted.
"Could have fooled me," she said, giving him a cold smile that could've stripped paint off a wall.
"Knock it off, Madison," I said. "Leigh's killed his share of Skel when we were out foraging. Which is more than you can say, isn't it?"
"Him?" she asked, looking at him sceptically.
"I said to knock it off!"
"Perhaps you should let him go, Jones. I do not want someone as spineless as him watching my back," she said.
"Nick off, cow," Leigh spat.
"I'd have Leigh watching my back over you any day! Now back off, or you'll find yourself bound, gagged, and left behind," I threatened, and I meant it.
"Oooh, scary," Madison mocked, but she dropped it all the same.
And with that unpleasant scene ringing in our ears, we finished collecting bush tucker and finally set off towards Skel lands. We headed northeast initially, heading up Fitzroy Street, but when we reached the St. Kilda Road junction, we followed St. Kilda Road southeast, heading deeper and deeper into the suburbs affected by the nuke.
The signs of damage grew steadily worse the further we travelled. Once we got to the outskirts of Gardenvale, though, the damage was much more pronounced, with many commercial and industrial buildings in just a sorry state as the houses. Roofs had collapsed; walls had been blown in; fences had toppled over. But the area was not the arid nuclear wasteland I'd expected to see; for grass, shrubs and trees were flourishing everywhere.
When we reached North Road, a four-lane affair, we left St. Kilda Road and followed it due east. The signs of devastation continued to worsen. Houses, factories, and high-rise office towers and residential blocks had been blasted apart, many reduced to little more than massive piles of rubble that spilled halfway across roads and streets. Hundreds of burnt-out vehicles littered the roads and streets, their rusting, skeletal shells a grim reminder of the hell that had been unleashed upon Melbourne that fateful date a hundred years ago. The blackened husks of trees savaged by the blast stood in great lines down the side of the road, mixed in with the newer foliage that had taken root since that horrible day.
It was nearing midday when we finally reached the outskirts of Skel territory. We had headed east along North Road, and then followed the Monash Freeway southeast until we reached Huxley Avenue. This we followed south down to Police Road, and then we stopped.
For on the other side of Police Road was a sight Nanako, David, Shorty and I had seen before. Fields and fields of market gardens, tended by scores of slaves watched over by brutal Skel overseers.
"That's as far as we're gonna get in daylight," I said, as we looked at the scene from behind an unkempt bush.
Nanako indicated the ruins of a two-storey, brick house on the street corner
behind us. "Maybe we can shack up in there? The second floor will give us a commanding view of the community centre where the Rangers drop off the refugees they bring."
The house's tile roof and part of the second floor's western face had collapsed and all of its windows had been blown in, but it'd make as good a hideout as any, providing the Skel never came here. And, as Nanako pointed out, it would give us a view of the community centre. Not that the view really mattered, Madison and I would hear the Ranger’s 4WDs long before we saw them.
"Okay, let's check it out," I agreed.
We climbed into the house through the lounge room's gaping window frame and carefully made our way upstairs, fearing the staircase would collapse under our weight. However, it held, and we piled into a small corner bedroom that overlooked the market gardens.
"You've got to be kidding," Leigh expired in shock when we looked out the window. "I thought Skel were nomads – this is virtually civilized!"
"Except for the slaves," David replied.
For what was probably the first time in her life, Madison was at a loss for words.
The market gardens across the road stretched south for some distance. There were many fields – all irrigated – and they sported a variety of vegetables.
We could see the slaves better from up here, too. They were malnourished, and emaciated men and women with their ankles chained together to stop them escaping. Their clothes were threadbare, their skin sickly, and hair fell lankly about the sides of their gaunt faces.
The Skel overseers wore their suits of bone armour, and stood in loose groups throughout the market gardens, either chatting idly amongst themselves or lashing out with knotted whips at tardy slaves.
"Coming here was insanity, Jones – that's what'll happen to us if we get caught," Leigh complained.
"Then let's make sure we don't get caught," I replied.
Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series) Page 56