by Anh Do
First published by Allen & Unwin in 2020
Text copyright © Anh Do, 2020
Illustrations by James Hart, 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.
Allen & Unwin
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Email: [email protected]
Web: www.allenandunwin.com
ISBN 978 1 76087 636 4
eISBN 978 1 76106 044 1
Cover design by Kristy Lund-White and James Hart
Text design by Kristy Lund-White
Set by Kristy Lund-White
CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
Amber crouched in the overgrown grass at the edge of her family’s property. She unclasped her hands and released the grasshopper she’d found trapped inside her bedroom.
‘Off you go now.’
A butterfly flitted past, and Amber instantly recognised it was a painted lady. Its wings caught the glow of the sunset, and Amber’s heart swelled. She could not help but follow as it flitted from perch to perch.
‘Oh, if you’re looking for thistles,’ she told the butterfly, ‘I’m afraid Dad spent the weekend clearing them.’
Amber knew thistles were a painted ladies’ favourite food, but they also liked red clover and blazing stars. At nine years old, Amber hadn’t learnt this from any book, but simply from watching the fascinating creatures hopping, crawling and flying about her family’s land.
A dragonfly zipped out from the bushes. Amber smiled – she loved anything with the word ‘dragon’ in it.
Suddenly it swooped out of the air and onto the painted lady, driving it down and pinning it to the ground. The butterfly fluttered helplessly, until the dragonfly ended its struggle with one bite of its powerful jaws. Amber bit her lip – she felt bad for the butterfly, but she also knew that insects do what insects do.
‘Amber!’ her mum called from the house. ‘Are you going to give me a hand with dinner?’
Amber raced back through the grass. As the shadows grew long around her, the soft light coming through the windows looked very inviting indeed.
By the time she’d made it to the kitchen, Amber’s mum, Liz, already had the pizza bases out. Amber climbed onto a chair to inspect the bowls of toppings on offer – cheese, mushrooms, pepperoni …
‘I need your help,’ said Liz warmly. ‘Your dad says you make the best pizzas.’
Amber set about sprinkling ingredients onto the bases. Liz’s phone rang and she put it on speaker.
‘Heya, Amber!’ came the voice of Amber’s dad, Joe. The line crackled a bit – reception wasn’t great out here. ‘Your brother and I hear you’re helping with dinner?’
‘Yep,’ said Amber happily, as she piled cheese onto her concoction.
‘What are we having?’ asked Reggie, Amber’s older brother.
Pizza was Reggie’s favourite but Amber couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ she said.
‘Can I have a clue?’ Reggie asked.
‘Well, it’s round …’
‘Hmm,’ he said, pretending to think. ‘I’m guessing … broccoli balls?’
Amber giggled. ‘Yuck!’
‘How was work?’ Liz asked Joe.
‘No big incidents, thankfully,’ he said.
Joe was a firefighter at the local station, and Reggie, though only thirteen, had already decided he would follow in his dad’s footsteps. Joe took Reggie in on weekend shifts like today so he could learn the ropes.
‘A couple of false alarms,’ Joe continued.
‘Oh, and a cat got stuck in a tree,’ Reggie added, chuckling.
‘Why do cats always get stuck in trees?’ Amber asked. ‘If there were no firefighters, would they just stay up there forever?’
‘Hahaha!’ Reggie always laughed at Amber’s jokes, even if they weren’t funny.
‘Okay, I’m putting the broccoli balls in the oven,’ said Liz, winking at Amber. ‘How far away are you?’
‘A couple of minutes,’ Joe said. ‘I just passed Irene’s pl— Wait … what’s that?’
‘What’s what, honey?’ said Liz, only half paying attention as she slid the pizzas into the oven.
Through the window, Amber caught sight of something odd in the sky. A glowing light, purple and magnificent. Amber scrambled over the kitchen counter for a closer look.
The yard outside was lit up in purple.
‘Are you guys seeing this?’ said Joe.
Liz reached out to pull Amber off the counter, but when she saw what Amber was looking at, she froze. Above the trees, in the distance, was a giant, glowing purple ball! As if that wasn’t strange enough, it was quickly growing bigger. In fact, it seemed to be hurtling towards them.
‘Mum?’ asked Amber.
But Liz didn't answer. She just stared out the window, her mouth open wide.
As the glowing purple ball whizzed out of sight behind a hill, Joe hit the accelerator. Neither he nor Reggie had ever seen anything like it. What was it? A meteorite?
Suddenly the ground beneath the truck shook.
‘Liz?’ Joe shouted. ‘Amber? You two still there?’
Their truck crested the hill onto the incline that led down to the family property, and what Joe saw almost made him spin off the road. His house – the house in which his wife and daughter were – was in flames!
Joe gave a cry of horror and slammed on the accelerator again, tearing down the hill. They didn’t even stop to unlock the gate, but smashed through it, sending wood and metal flying.
The truck screeched to a halt in front of the house. Flames and black smoke billowed from every opening.
‘Liz!’ Joe screamed, throwing open the car door.
‘Mum! Amber!’ cried Reggie, rushing out of the truck.
There was no sign of them.
Joe grabbed his hose from the tray of the truck, and yelled to Reggie, ‘The valve!’
Reggie ran to the outside tap and connected the hose. He flicked on the valve, and a jet of water erupted from the hose in his father's hand. Joe dashed into the house, shouting over his shoulder for Reggie to stay outside.
The living room was a scene from a nightmare. Flames covered the sofas, paintings fell and smashed as their strings burnt through, and smoke billowed up through the hole in the roof. Purple gloop dripped down from the broken beams, splattering everywhere – a dollop of it landed on his arm.
Joe didn’t have time to think about what it could be. He swept the hose about as he yelled for Amber and Liz. They had been in the kitchen when he phoned – maybe they were still there?
He kicked aside a burning chair and strode to the kitchen door. Inside was an inf
erno. Joe cranked up the hose to carve a path in, splashing walls and benchtops. His stomach dropped when he saw two figures lying facedown on the floor.
The closest, Amber, was splattered with the gloop, her face resting on a scorched floorboard.
‘My baby!’ Joe yelled, dropping to his knees to check her breathing. She was alive.
Joe looked over to Liz, whose body was crushed under a fallen beam.
‘Liz, can you hear me?’ Joe croaked. He grappled with the heavy beam, but it was jammed and wouldn’t budge.
‘Get Amber out,’ Liz muttered weakly.
‘I … ’ Joe didn’t want to leave Liz, but their daughter needed him.
Suddenly, the kitchen door caved in with a crack. Reggie stood in the doorway.
‘Dad!’ he yelled, staggering towards his father.
‘Quick, Reggie!’ yelled Joe. ‘Take your sister!’
Reggie rushed to where Joe was cradling Amber. He heaved her over his shoulder. ‘I’ll be right back!’ he shouted to his father. ‘Just hold on!’
Reggie ran outside and lay Amber on the grass.
‘Amber?! Can you hear me? Breathe!’ he gasped, his own lungs struggling against the smoke. The side of Amber’s face was blackened, burnt, but he saw her chest rise, heard her cough.
With Amber safe for now, Reggie ran back inside the burning house. The flames danced even higher. He raced towards the kitchen and, through the scorched doorframe, saw his father slumped over his mother’s chest. He wasn’t moving.
‘Mum! Dad!’ Reggie shouted, running for the doorway. But before he could reach the kitchen, a huge timber beam collapsed across the entrance, bringing half the roof down with it.
‘No!’ he screamed. Reggie began clawing through the flaming rubble. Some of the purple gloop fell onto his T-shirt from the ceiling. He wiped it from his back – what was this stuff? It was all over his hands, making it even harder to pull at the rubble.
The more ferociously he attacked debris, the more his lungs filled with smoke, making him faint-headed.
I’m coming, Reggie thought, staggering. His mind was determined but his body refused to obey.
‘Mum! Dad!’ he shouted woozily, pushing aside the last bit of wood before collapsing into the kitchen, his head spinning. He crawled towards his parents and reached out a shaking hand …
Just... stay... conscious, he pleaded with himself before blackness arrived.
Amber sat up with a gasp. The taste of ash made her retch and cough.
A great crash came from the house, and she looked over to see the roof cave in, the whole house now wreathed in fire.
She could see the teddy bears in her bedroom, burning like the rest of the house.
‘Mum? Dad? Reggie?’
She tried to stand but the world spun. Her cheek hurt, and when she touched it the sting was so intense her eyes welled with tears.
She pulled her hand away from her cheek to check for blood. Instead, she found her hand was covered in a strange purple gloop. Amber couldn’t think straight.
‘Amber!’
Their neighbour Irene was running towards her.
Amber tried to call out, to tell Irene to help her parents – but shadows crept in at the corners of her vision. The gloop covered the burn on her cheek and seeped into her skin.
‘Please,’ she said weakly, as Irene knelt beside her. ‘Help them.’
The shadows took her over.
Amber dreamt she was flying.
She looked either side of her at massive scaly wings, looked down to see sharp claws, looked behind to see a long, powerful tail. She opened her mouth and breathed out a huge jet of fire.
She grinned, even though the fire left a taste of ash in her mouth.
Amber woke up. She was in a bed, and propped up by pillows. As she reluctantly let go of her dream, she felt foggy … although maybe the fog was a blessing, as it dulled the pain in her cheek. There was a rustle beside her and she tried to open her eyes, but something restricted her eyelids.
‘Best not to touch the bandages,’ came Irene’s voice. ‘The doctor said.’
‘Bandages?’ she whispered.
‘I’m sorry, little Butterfly.’
Irene had called Amber ‘Butterfly’ ever since she’d found Amber chasing butterflies on her property one afternoon.
‘You were hurt,’ Irene continued. ‘In the fire … The doctor said it should heal over time.’
Amber could sense the uncertainty in Irene’s voice. At the mention of fire, it all came back to her.
Her family … trapped inside a burning house.
‘Mum? Dad?’ she squeaked. ‘Reggie?’
Suddenly Irene’s arms were around her. ‘I’m sorry, Butterfly. Your mum and dad ... they didn’t make it. Your brother tried to save them. Now he’s sleeping. Everyone hopes he’ll wake up soon.’
Amber suddenly felt weightless, as if the very bed she was on had been ripped from beneath her. Everything she’d known had just disappeared from under her in an instant.
Amber’s life was never the same again. In time, she slowly came to accept that her parents were really gone, stolen from her by a freak meteorite.
Her right cheek had been burnt much worse than anyone could have imagined, and for a long while she had to visit Woodville Hospital regularly to have her dressings changed. She wondered what she would look like when the bandages finally came off.
Irene offered to take her in, and everyone seemed to think that best. That way, Amber would be nearby when her brother woke from his coma. ‘It could be any day,’ the doctors kept saying. Yet Reggie Autumn continued to lie in bed, eyes closed, strange machines beeping around him.
From Irene’s fence, Amber watched as different crews came and went from her old house. First it was scientists wearing full-body hazmat suits. Then a group that seemed to be from the military. Then people in dark uniforms she didn’t recognise.
She asked Irene if any of her things – or her parents’ things – had survived the fire. Irene said she had asked, but the National Service was keeping a tight lid on whatever they had found over there.
Over time, Amber grew angry. She wasn’t allowed to enter her own house – even to look for an old photo album!
One night, when Irene was asleep and the security guards were all staring at their phones, Amber snuck over to her house.
It was surreal to be in a place at once so familiar and so changed. The floorboards creaked and ash coated the walls. There were purple stains on everything, and here and there strange notes were pinned, with numbers marked on them.
Amber went to her parents’ room and found it mostly empty – whether stuff had burnt or been taken away, she wasn’t quite sure. In the living room she saw the cabinet that had contained the family photo albums was now reduced to ash.
Finally, she did find something. Underneath some burnt fabric she found a photo of her parents with a young Reggie. Her father was strong and tall, and his big arms were colourfully adorned with tattoos of roses twined around love hearts. Her mother was laughing, her beautiful smile seemed to sparkle. Next to them, little Reggie grinned broadly, his mop of hair tousled by Joe.
Amber tried not to cry. She held the photo tight and fled into the night, spurred on as the guards’ voices rose behind her – but they were only cheering at their phones.
The next day, another crew of workers turned up in construction uniforms and knocked the derelict building to the ground. Irene found Amber watching as they loaded debris onto trucks.
‘Come away, Butterfly,’ she said. ‘You don’t need to watch this.’
Amber’s heart hardened with every passing moment. ‘Yes, I do.’
Amber’s voice was sharp, and Irene did not argue. She waited with Amber until the last of the debris had been driven away, then led her inside.
When Amber saw a home-cooked meal waiting on the stove, she felt bad about speaking so harshly to Irene. The woman had never been anything but kind to her.
A
mber tried to apologise, but she burst into tears. Irene held her tight.
‘I’ve got you, Butterfly,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll get through this together. Somehow.’
Amber believed Irene. Though her mother and father might be gone, one day her brother would wake up. Together, they would start again.
She put the family photo by her bed so she could feel that they were always there, watching over her.
One day Reggie would wake, she told herself, again and again. But time passed, days turned into months, and months turned into years.
Amber walked through the gates of Woodville High, feeling the same anxiety she always did. It hadn’t faded over time. Now, at fourteen years old, she felt it as strongly as ever.
There was another thing that had refused to fade. Her scar. Every day she caught someone eyeballing the twisted vortex of dark red lines that covered her right cheek.
At first, she’d felt shy and self-conscious. But now she mostly felt anger at how superficial people were – how obsessed with one kind of beauty.
Now and then Amber caught a boy staring at her ‘good’ side – staring in the way she’d often seen them look at girls … other girls. So she’d immediately turn and face him front-on, and seeing her scar, the boy would quickly turn away. It worked every time. But sometimes she wondered if it was the scar that scared them off, or the challenging look in her eyes.
Amber’s worst scar wasn’t visible to the world. The loss of her parents, the uncertainty about Reggie, who was still in a coma, and the gnawing questions about that meteorite had left a deep emotional wound that she carried wherever she went.
‘Oh look,’ came a mocking voice. ‘It’s Butterfly. She looks more like a caterpillar to me … or maybe a slug.’ Laughter followed.