Unsheltered

by Clare Moleta

  Rich drove east and Li didn’t ask where they were going. It was enough to be back on the highway, to be moving again. They drove in the howler’s wake, through wrecked country where nothing remained in its place but the road. No fence. The tussock and shrubs had been uprooted and thrown down again – sometimes the rubbish and dirt was heaped so thick on the highway that they had to drive around it. Sometimes there were bodies too, people who must have been walking or camped by the highway when the howler came through. Rich said there weren’t more bodies because there were no towns around here for people to leave. Everything from here to the range was military.

  She watched him, side-on. His shoulders were loose and his eyes on the road were calm, but the shake in his right hand came and went. His anger was an unknown quantity to set against what he had given her back. He hadn’t needed to get her out, didn’t need her now.

  The phone’s battery was half charged and there was a signal. No passcode. She laid it on her lap and stared at it like it might disappear if she looked away.

  Rich glanced at the grey wall of New Flinders rushing past. We should have reception for a while, he said.

  She dialled, entered her status number, language selection, worked her way through the options, pushing hard on the worn-out keypad. For a full minute, she couldn’t remember Matti’s claim number, thought she’d buried it too deep. She pushed back against the panic, made herself see the three-cornered scrap of card with the number on it that had been taken off her at Transit processing. The shaky eight, the ‘W’. There it was, after all, stuck in her brain like a splinter. She punched it in and braced for the queue, trying to keep her breathing steady. There won’t be any news, there’s never any news. You knew at the start you wouldn’t find her like this.

  She got through straight away. No ads, no hold music, just a recorded human voice. We are experiencing unusually high demand for this feature. Due to the number of clients currently in the queue, we do not recommend holding at this time. Did you know you can access all your records —

  When she hung up, her jaw was clamped so tight it hurt.

  Rich said, Try again later, yeah?

  * * *

  It started to rain again and kept raining. They didn’t pass another vehicle or see any sign of life. No birds, nothing. But from behind New Flinders’ wall they heard the faint rise and fall of sirens. Sounds of emergency, as if the howler had wreaked havoc inside as well. It was a deeply strange idea. The wall Li carried in her head could repel anything; the real XB hadn’t even withstood its first howler. Nerredin had survived two of them. But then, Frank always said the XB hadn’t been built to keep Weather out. It was built to keep unwanted people out of places the builders couldn’t even imagine Weather reaching.

  New Fingers, she said, remembering.

  What’s that?

  That’s what Matti called it. What she thought it was called.

  It struck her that right now, while things were chaotic and scrambled, might be the best chance they’d ever have to slip through the gaps. She looked at Rich, his hands easy on the wheel. Are you trying to get inside? Is that where we’re going?

  Rich looked back at her like he hadn’t seen the question coming. What would I wanna be locked up in there for?

  She remembered Chris asking her what she thought it was like inside. So where do you want to go?

  He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck. I met this woman in a roadhouse a couple of years back. Two years? She was with a mob that moved around, worked all over. He slowed to navigate a tree that had been ripped up, roots and all, from somewhere south and dumped here on the road. She said they were looking for a medic, so I hung onto her number. I was heading to meet up with them when I got pulled into Transit. Reckon I might see if they’re still out there.

  Li said, Why didn’t you go with them two years ago?

  Two years ago I had other stuff to do. How about you? Where are you gunna start?

  She looked out through the rain on the windscreen that made the scoured plain around them seem dim and far away. I don’t know. If she’s alive, she could be anywhere.

  That’s a lot of places.

  Li said, What the girl was talking about on the video, where those kids were trying to get to, the best place? That’s what Matti called the Deep Islands. It’s where she thought she’d be safe. Where we’d wait for her, if. She waited for the searing in her throat to pass.

  You’re heading across the range, then?

  She nodded, slowly.

  He considered it. There’s Permacamp on the other side, massive sprawling thing. It’s an Agency camp, they keep records. Be the first place I’d look.

  * * *

  She was careful with her thoughts, still, but not the way she had been before. She didn’t believe Matti was alive, not really, but she had been alive long enough to drag a bunch of other kids into the Best Place game. Maybe she was still alive when Li went into Transit. She didn’t turn away from the pain of that, she’d done enough turning away. The range in the cold season was nature’s XB. Heavy rain, flashfloods, slips, probably snow. That’s what Matti would have faced if she’d got that far. But trucks still crossed through the cold season and one of them had stopped for Lavinia. The chance was small but it was real.

  They followed the curve of the wall until they were travelling due east. She’d never been this close to an XB. It looked like people had said, except for the chunks taken out of the top here and there, like missing teeth. A long way ahead the range was in view, blue-smudged and tipped with white. She’d seen it sketched on the far eastern edge of her map but with no sense of its scale. All the walls did was keep people out. The range split the continent. She looked at it and her whole body trembled. Had Matti had seen it? Had she walked towards the mountains and imagined the other side?

  Looking away, she caught something in the wing mirror. Something bony and hollow, one side blotched darker than the other and pulled tight. It was her face. Stubble on her head, grey-streaked, her eyebrows ragged and half-grown. The eyes were difficult to look at. She felt a stab of grief at what was gone and what was left but she made herself look until she recognised this face.

  * * *

  At first the radio was mostly static but then she found a station that was covering the howler. There were unconfirmed reports of damage inside New Flinders, casualties. She sifted through the frequencies, hungry for these calm voices presenting their arguable facts, after two and a half months without news. The official Source station was reporting that the howler had come up off the Southern Ocean. High category. A state of emergency in South-West. Contact with Valiant had been patchy since it hit. She wondered if Teresa and Navid and Hani were alive.

  The coverage switched to a public health official confirming that an influenza outbreak inside Fengdu had been contained, and then an international segment on the situation at the Front. Rich took over the dial and found a country music station.

  Her headache was back, tidal. She pressed her palms against her temples to ride it out. Rich hauled his pack over from the back seat. Water, he said. And paracetamol.

  The pack was bulging with medical supplies – he must have stripped the shelves before he got out. She found the right pills, swallowed two, calculating the points before she remembered. They passed a water bottle between them and then Li found readies further down and they shared one, just enough to take the edge off. She wasn’t sure how long the food would have to last. She hadn’t seen an animal, living or dead, since they left Transit.

  She fell asleep trying to remember the last time she’d heard music. When she woke it was still raining and Rich was on the phone.

  Yeah. Yeah, we’ll eke it out, call you if we have to. Yeah, I got a patcher with me. He raised his eyebrows at Li. Dunno. Might be going on east. Well, you can ask. All right, see you there if you don’t hear from me first. He disconnected and grinned at her. That was my new mob. They were further north – just caught the tail end of it, so they’re wet but
they’re not dead.

  She sat up, looking out at the rain. You’re meeting up with them?

  They’re on their way, yeah. We’re aiming for the last roadhouse before the range, bout a hundred and eighty clicks from here. He looked at the fuel gauge. We’re not gunna make it on this tank, though.

  He waited for a clear break on the side of the road and pulled over. Li strapped on her crutch and got out. Midafternoon, they’d been driving for about four hours. The rain had eased but the ground was water-logged and turning to mud – no plants left to hold it together. She turned her face up and caught moisture on her tongue. Had a sudden hunger for privacy. There was no cover, so she walked behind and away from the vehicle and squatted to piss. Twenty metres from her, the body of a woman lay face down, one arm extended as if she was still flying.

  When she got back, Rich was putting diesel in the tank. He pointed to where he’d found the jerry can, stowed on brackets between the wheel arch and the tailgate. She shouldn’t have missed that. It was held in place with a ratchet strap, and somehow it hadn’t leaked or cracked when the vehicle tipped over.

  He whistled through his teeth, lightly, easily. I reckon our luck’s turning, Li.

  She took the phone a few steps away and tried the hotline again. This time she just got an engaged tone that went on and on until underneath it she heard something else, a rumbling. Vehicles coming from the east.

  Rich came and stood beside her, holding the can, squinting. She counted four. After a minute he said, Leave this one to me, yeah?

  Why’s that?

  Cos you’re not really a sweet-talker, are you?

  A spasm of memory. What she’d been willing to do before she gave up.

  Anyway, he said, I know how these fellas work. He went back to stow the empty can.

  The convoy kept coming until the road was filled with mud-green armoured personnel carriers. The lead vehicle slowed and pulled over and the others followed. Two men in fatigues climbed down, heavily armed. Cautious but not hostile. Rich held his hands clear of his sides and took a step forward. Li did the same. For the first time she noticed the Serkel logo along the side of the four-wheel drive and wondered if that was going to be a good thing or a bad thing.

  You all right? one of the men called from the road.

  Yeah, we’re right, Rich said. Thanks for stopping. He walked forward to meet them. Li leaned on the bonnet and watched how he did it. How at ease he was, accepting a cigarette, rocking back on his heels. They turned together to look west, Rich talking with his hands, the others nodding, serious. Asking questions. Once, they turned towards her and he said something and the soldiers laughed. She looked away down the line. Saw a woman covering her with a pistol through the driver’s window of the next vehicle.

  When Rich came back he was carrying a stack of army-issue readies and two canteens. Doors slamming behind him, engines starting up again.

  What did you tell them? she asked.

  Told em the truth. Some of it.

  Two short blasts on a horn. He dumped the food on the bonnet and gave a wave that was half a salute. They watched the convoy move off.

  I said we worked for Company. Told em what to expect, said there were people alive back there.

  What did you tell them about me?

  What they wanted to hear. You gunna hold it against me?

  It didn’t seem like a rhetorical question. She looked for resentment, came up empty. Remembered the shock of her own face in the wing mirror and suddenly the idea of her as anyone’s sex object was funny as hell. When she laughed she felt the tug of scar tissue, a stiffness to the mechanics of it. She said, I guess I still look pretty hot from a distance.

  He grinned back but it was hard to read. They’re disaster relief. Maybe backup if XB Force can’t cover the breach. They’re not interested in us.

  You handled them pretty good, she said with her eyes on the food.

  People like me. Told you before.

  Yeah. I don’t get that reaction much.

  I like you, Li.

  They ate standing, tearing open the readies with their teeth. Meat, pasta, beans in a curried sauce, richer stuff than either of them was used to. Soon Li’s shrunken stomach forced her to slow, then stop. She felt dazed, wanted to curl up around the food in her belly and sleep.

  Rich started packing up. He said, You know how to drive?

  A bit. Mostly tractors.

  Four-wheel drive?

  Some of them. Fixed more than I’ve driven.

  Have a go. See if you can manage with that. He nodded down at her ankle.

  Yeah?

  Yeah. He headed round to the passenger side. Just in case.

  * * *

  Straight road, no trucks. Her walking boot felt awkward on the clutch but it didn’t hurt. A couple of false starts and Li had the hang of driving. Acceleration and response, straight-line progress. Was this the first time she had felt that her search was on her own terms? Already the flat country on either side was making way for curves, preliminary sketches of the mountains ahead. Travelling this way it was only a matter of measurable time before she caught up. To Matti, living or dead; to the answers she needed.

  They got another hundred k east before the engine started smoking. They were out of the howler’s shadow, more or less, and there were trees again. The smoke was blue-tinged. Oil in the intake stroke, or the turbocharger. Maybe the piston rings. There were plenty of things she could have missed but it was too dark by now to see if she was right, and they had nothing to fix the problem with anyway. She pulled over, bumpily, turned the engine off and listened to it crackling while Rich called his contact and explained they were stopping for the night. He described roughly how far they’d come, said they’d have a look at the engine at first light and limp on if they could.

  They made camp. The rain had passed over but there was still some wind. They had their camp jackets but the temperature was dropping fast and Li knew they’d need each other’s body heat to make it through the night, like in the sleepbox. She thought they’d stay in the vehicle, but Rich had a tent and a sleeping bag – what was left of his army kit. While they put the tent up, he told her how he’d slept all over East in it, had them both on him when he was grabbed on the highway west of Transit. They got confiscated with everything else in processing, but then when he got to Delta compound there wasn’t enough room in the sleepboxes, so the Essos reissued him his own kit.

  Generous bastards, he said, and Li heard herself laughing. Laughing at Transit.

  They were clear of the worst devastation here but the wind had still blown through hard enough to tear branches from trees. They built a fire close to the tent and dragged more branches around in a circle to make a windbreak. The routine was familiar but sharing it was new. Rich heated up readies on stones by the fire while she checked on the engine. It was still clicking, but slower now. When she raised the bonnet, smoke and heat gusted up and she stood over it, warming her hands. Rich came over and laid a couple of readies directly on the hot metal. She remembered a Cup Night barbecue in Nerredin. The charred meat smell, kids hyped up and running amok, Frank a bit pissed, getting into an argument about a fifty-metre penalty. Matti saying, My one wish is the Mynas make it to Regionals next year.

  Rich flipped the readies to warm the other side. When’re the neighbours getting here, love? he said. I’m starving.

  They ate by the fire and then Rich heated one of the canteens in the embers and added koffee and sweetener. Two meals on top of each other. Li was full for the first time in months. They passed the canteen between them and she looked away from the fire at the other source of light – a haze bouncing off the clouds to the south. The lights of New Flinders.

  She said, What’s your plan?

  Huh?

  If you don’t want to get inside. Just drive around with this crew? Go where they tell you?

  He said, I want to go to North, Li.

  North? Sacrifice-zone North? But she wasn’t surprised, ev
en though she couldn’t have known this. Said it back to him. Have you got a death wish?

  And he laughed and leaned in to tend the fire. D’you know where you were born?

  Ah, yep. Place called Granity. Val had told her that. She didn’t remember living there but she’d been through it plenty of times on the circuit. Nothing little town, she said. It’d be gone now.

  I dunno where I was born, he said. Who my parents were, my kin. I grew up in a place called Tom Creek. Dunno how I got there either, it’s just the first place I remember. I used to sleep on the riverbank, down between the tree roots, sleep under houses in winter. There was a lot of stray dogs I used to cuddle up with, kept me warm. And I’d hear the noises through the floor – kids eating dinner, parents yelling at them, yelling at each other, kissing them goodnight.

  Li couldn’t tell where this was going.

  He said, When I was ten or eleven I got caught stealing food, stealing grog. Cop didn’t know what to do with me, so he asked this couple if they’d take me in. Lorraine and Vince. Their kids had grown up and gone away. I was with them five years, till I joined up. They were from North, before the sacrifice zone. Got forced out. The way they talked about it up there, I never heard anyone talk about any place like that. It was like it’d been cut out of them but it kept growing back. You know what I mean?

  No, said Li.

  Yeah you do. Auntie Rainey and Uncle Vince had to talk about North, they had to tell those stories. They were still grieving it. He swigged at the koffee dregs, passed her the canteen. His skin where their hands brushed was hot. I’m gunna walk that country.

  It’s not there anymore, Li said. North’s just poison now.

  He said, Don’t you reckon though, we’ve been hearing about the sacrifice zones so long we don’t even question them? North’s some kind of horror story people tell their kids, like it was never a real place, but that’s all happened in our lifetime. People lived there, Li. Maybe they still do. Maybe what we got told isn’t the whole thing.