Dark Winds Over Wellington

by Tabatha Wood

  I really did try to enjoy myself on the tour. I knew if I looked like I was having fun, Mummy would be more likely to take me back again. We once went to the zoo seventeen times in a row because it was my most absolute favourite place for a while. I got to learn all the names of the staff and I knew where all the animals were by heart. I know Mummy didn’t really enjoy it as much as I did. She took her special flask with her; the one full of the stuff that looks like water but smells all funny. I drank some once. It tasted horrible and Mummy was really cross with me.

  I think Mummy actually did enjoy the tour. All the way home she kept talking about how much she adored the beautiful architecture and the amazing pieces of art. In fact, it was the most happy I had seen her in quite a while. All I could think about was how almost everyone who worked there seemed to be made of bees.

  January 30th

  I asked Mummy if we could have a picnic in the gardens next to the Beehive this afternoon, because it was such a lovely day. I said we could sit on one of the benches underneath the pohutukawa trees. She said that was a lovely idea and gave me a kiss on my forehead, which she hardly ever does any more.

  She made sandwiches and packed fizzy pop and chips, and I put two red apples in the bag too. We got to the gardens some time after two o’clock because our bus was really late. Mummy was grumpy about that and didn’t speak to me much. Sometimes she does that. But it wasn’t my fault the bus was late, or that people stared at me when I got a bit angry about being hungry. Mummy made us get off the bus a few stops early and we walked to the gardens without talking.

  We sat on one of the benches like I had suggested, and eventually Mummy stopped being so cross. We started to play our usual games of ‘eye spy’ and making up stories about people who walked past us. We used to do that when I was really small. Before my brain got broken and I started to see the people who weren’t really there.

  I saw lots of the bee-people, going in and out of the Beehive, but I knew better than to mention it to Mummy. After a while, I noticed a strange man, watching me from the steps. He had long hair and a messy beard, and was wearing a dirty coat. He looked like one of the men who sit outside of shops begging people for money. He watched me as I watched the bee-people, and he watched the bee-people as they buzzed around the buildings. He made me feel a little nervous, and I tried hard not to stare at him, but I couldn’t help sneaking a look now and again.

  Mummy gave me a drink of pop, and when I looked up, I couldn’t see him any more. He frightened us both when he appeared from behind the pohutukawa tree, pointing a dirty finger right at me.

  “You can see them, can’t you?” he said. His voice was all gruff and gravelly, like how Mummy sounds like when she has been smoking too many cigarettes. I’m not supposed to know about the cigarettes, but I always know because she smells funny when she comes in from being out in the garden.

  Mummy jumped up and stood in front of me. She made herself into a human barrier between me and him. She told him very loudly and sternly to go away. I couldn’t see, but I knew she would be giving him one of her scary looks. The man didn’t go away though. He just kept staring at me and repeating the same question over and over.

  “You can see them, can’t you? You can see them too! You can see them?”

  Mummy stood between us and stretched out her hands in front of her to keep him well away from me. She told him to piss off. He got more cross and raised his voice even more.

  “They’re parasites! Invaders! We need to get rid of the whole bloody colony!”

  While he was shouting, two other men came towards us, both of them wearing smart suits. They took one arm each and started to lead him away. He struggled and yelled and shouted all sorts of rude and naughty words which I know I am not supposed to say, but sometimes I do when I get really cross, and so does Mummy. I didn’t say a word just then, though. Both of the men were made of bees.

  February 3rd

  Mummy won’t talk to me about the man in the Parliament gardens. After he was led away she said something about him obviously being very ill, and then passed me another sandwich. I knew better than to push the subject. But I thought a lot about what he had said.

  Mummy doesn’t know because I hide it from her, but before Daddy left, he gave me a mobile phone so I could message him whenever I needed to. He hardly ever replies any more, but I still text him when I can. Last time he contacted me he told me he has to stay hidden. To avoid being watched by the bad men. I’ve had three birthdays since he left. I miss him a lot.

  When he gave me the phone, he showed me how to use something he called the “indernet”. He said he and his friends would always make sure it was connected. He said I had to keep it a secret from Mummy or she would try to take it away, because she didn't want us keeping in touch. I’ve kept it hidden for almost a year now. I am very good at keeping secrets if I try.

  I went onto the indernet last night when Mummy had one of her naps, like she does after she drinks too much funny water. I logged into one of the special places which Mummy doesn’t know I know about. Daddy showed me, not long after my brain got broken. He told me that sometimes his brain was broken too, and so were a lot of other people’s. They got together secretly in the indernet place, and talked about the things they’d seen. Things they couldn’t talk about with anyone else.

  He always said people would try to take him away if they knew. He was right. They did try. He always told me that it wasn’t my fault he had to go into hiding, but sometimes I think maybe it was. I don’t think I should have told Doctor Ames the truth about the things Daddy told me. It changed things.

  I did some searching in the group, but I found no mention of what I was looking for. The indernet was full of weird stories: shape-shifters; wētā witches; even of people infected with a zombie-like fungus usually found in ants, but nothing of bees or bee-people.

  One thing I did find was a short discussion about the Plimmer’s Ark, the wrecked boat buried underneath the old bank. The post said the boat was originally named the Inconstant. It said that some people had talked of seeing a massive swarm of bees abandoning the boat when it ran aground on Pencarrow Heads. They said the swarm seemed to move in the shape of a giant man as it took into the air. The shape grew so big it made the land go dark, as the insects blocked out the sun.

  The men who ran the city at the time, had said the reports were nothing but fiction and lies. Tall tales made up to try and scare people away from settling in the city. They said the Inconstant had carried immigrants from London to Australia, and was simply sailing back home with a cargo of animal skins and tea.

  The story of the bee-man made me curious. I knew from both Daddy and Mummy that the ‘truth’ was always what the powerful people wanted it to be. It wasn’t always the real truth. Just like I knew what I saw, even when everyone else had tried to tell me I was lying. It was them who lied to me.

  I had to put the phone away when Mummy woke up, so I couldn’t search the indernet any more. But I think the strange man was right. I need to try and get rid of the bees.

  February 8th

  I know Mummy doesn’t want to go back to the Beehive again, and I don’t think I will be able to convince her, but that’s okay, I can wait. I have a plan. Daddy’s sister, Aunty Carol, is coming to Wellington next week and I know she will want to take me out somewhere. Mummy never says no.

  Sometimes I wonder why she doesn’t just let me go and live with Aunty Carol instead, but she says Daddy’s family is full of freaks and weirdos, and she won’t let them take me away from her, even if I am also a weirdo most of the time. I try not to let it get to me, I know she doesn’t really mean it. When Daddy stopped taking his little pink pills, things got really hard for everybody. Mummy even had to start taking some pills of her own. She doesn’t talk about it but I found them once. I don’t even think she knows I know.

  When Aunty Carol comes, I will ask her to take me to Parliament again. I will ask her to take me on the tour. I did some searching o
n the indernet and I have swapped the contents of an empty water bottle with a bottle of white vinegar I found at the back of the kitchen cupboards. The indernet told me vinegar can be used to kill bees. I think I can smuggle that into my backpack. I know I probably won’t get many, but if it works, maybe I can at least show people what they don’t seem to be able to see. Their government has been compromised, just like Daddy always believed.

  February 15th

  I made a very big mistake.

  Aunty Carol came and we went to the Parliament gardens, but we got there too late and the tour we intended to join was fully booked. Aunty Carol didn’t want to wait; she said we should go and get a coffee and go back. I tried to convince her to sit on the steps with me for a while, but it was raining a little bit and she said we would get wet and cold.

  I got upset and started to shout, but she hugged me and stroked my hair until I calmed down. I stopped feeling cross and agreed to return later on, but as we were walking towards the gate, I saw two bee-people coming towards us. I had seen them before. I knew they both worked in the Beehive.

  I panicked.

  I grabbed my not-water bottle out of my backpack and unscrewed the lid. The bee-people got closer, and just as they were about to pass us, I threw as much of the vinegar over them as I could. The bee-person closest to me started to yell and all their skin went funny. They fell to the floor, screaming, and the bees began to separate.

  Some flew off up into the air, others stayed on the grass. They looked like they were trying to join together, to make the shape of a man. The other bee-person stared directly at me, and a scary buzzing sound filled my ears. Aunty Carol knocked the not-water bottle out of my hands and grabbed my arms. I knew she was saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear the words. The buzzing filled my head completely.

  The first bee-person seemed to be trying to reassemble itself. The bees that had initially flown away were rejoining the others. The other bee-person helped them up from the floor. I felt strong hands grab me from behind, not the hands of my Aunty Carol. Loud voices shouted at me, but they were still muted by the terrible buzzing. My backpack was dragged from my shoulders and one of my arms was forced backwards and held in a painful position. I was pushed and shoved towards the Beehive, my Aunty Carol by my side held in the same way.

  We got taken to the police station. We spent the whole afternoon and most of the evening there. They took my Aunty Carol away. I didn’t see her again.

  Lots of people came and spoke to me. Some of them were normal; some of them were bees. I wouldn’t answer any of their questions, I remembered what Daddy always used to tell me. “Trust no-one. Say nothing. Don’t tell the bastards anything they can use against you.” I’m not completely sure what they were asking me. I couldn't hear them properly for the loud buzzing in my head.

  Mummy came to collect me, along with Doctor Ames. The Doctor had to tell them lots of things about me, about how I often saw things that weren’t there. She said I got confused and needed medication. I was just a very sick seventeen year old boy. I had no political motivation, she said, and my actions were definitely not an act of attempted terrorism. I didn’t say anything at all. I knew it was better that way. Anyway, the constant buzz made it hurt to talk.

  They let me go home eventually. Mummy shouted at me for a very long time, and then locked me in my room. A bee fell out of my ear not too long ago. Another one came out of my nose. My skin feels like it’s tickling me. I want to peel it off.

  I don’t think I will be able to write here any more. I know I’ve failed. I wish I’d told Mummy how sorry I am. I know I made things hard for everyone. I know it was my fault Daddy left. I didn’t want to be like this, but I can’t hide from the things I see.

  There are bees on the glass of my bedroom window. So many, they are blocking out the light.

  My head hurts.

  I don’t think it will be long before the hive gets in.

  Mongrel

  “Are humans classed as red or white meat?”

  “What?”

  “Are humans...”

  “No, I heard what you said, I’m just disturbed by the content.”

  “It’s a perfectly reasonable question.”

  “Yeah. For a cannibal, maybe. Or a serial killer. Should I be concerned?”

  “Ha! Hahaha. Idiot.”

  “Oh, I’m the idiot? I’m not the one asking psychotic questions. Why do you want to know anyway?”

  “Dunno. Just curious. Don’t look at me like that. Okay. Fine. I bit my cheek accidentally and I just wondered, okay?”

  “Right.”

  “What?”

  “You’re so weird.”

  “I know, that’s why you love me, babe.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Do you want to watch something?”

  “Nah. I’m good with my book.”

  “Okay. Hmmm. Today is a Good Day to Die. So, a little light bedtime reading?”

  “It’s interesting. The title isn’t really that relevant to the story.”

  “I hate it when they do that. I don’t get it.”

  “It’s just... I don’t know, it’s just a title. It’s a good book.”

  “Fair enough. Fancy a cuppa?”

  “If you’re making one. Peppermint tea, please.”

  “We’re going to need to go to the shop soon. I think that’s the last of the peppermint. I’ll go tomorrow after work if you want?”

  “That’d be good. Can you get me some ginger beer, and some strawberry liquorice? I’m craving everything at the moment.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Oh, and those nice biscuits we liked, the ones with the chocolate bits in.”

  “The ones I never got to try because you ate them all?”

  “Maybe...”

  “Ha! Okay. Write me a list or something.”

  “Will do. I was thinking, do you fancy going down to Brooklyn to the cinema tomorrow? We could take your sister along too. It might be the last time we all get out together before... you know?”

  “Maybe. Can I see how I feel after work?”

  “Yeah. No worries. Have you seen her this evening by the way? Is ‘Stalker Steve’ still bothering her?”

  “She’s not mentioned him. I think he might have finally given up.”

  “I hope so. I can’t believe he actually bit her, eh? What a weirdo.”

  “I know, right? Bloody mongrel. I saw her earlier on. She said she was gonna meet up with some people. Some sort of hippy tribal drumming group on the beach, I think. She probably won’t be back until late. I left her the spare key to get in.”

  “Oh, good! I’m glad she’s getting out. She needs it. Anyway... you watch something if you want. I’ve got my book.”

  “Alright. I’ll catch up with my zombie programme, I reckon. If that’s alright with you?”

  “Mmmm. Yeah. No probs.”

  “Sweet. I know you don’t always like the gory stuff. Especially at the moment. I’ll just… Oh, hey! Did you hear something just then?”

  “What?”

  “A noise. Outside.”

  “In the garden?”

  “I’m not sure. Sounded like a knock on the door.”

  “Really?”

  “Listen... yeah, I’m pretty sure I heard something.”

  “Have a look out of the window.”

  “I can’t see anyone. Hold on. Yeah, that was definitely a knock.”

  “Is it your sister?”

  “I don’t think so, I gave her a key. Unless she’s forgotten it again.”

  “Don’t answer it. Just ignore it. I’m not opening the door to strangers this late.”

  “Could be cops?”

  “Why would the police be knocking on our door at 11 o’clock at night? What have you been up to?”

  “Hey! That’s a bit harsh! I don’t know. They could be.”

  “Look, can you see anyone out there or not?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “May
be you imagined it?”

  “Mmmm. Maybe.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m not worrying. I’m fine... I’m… Oh! Come on, you must have heard that?”

  “What now?”

  “That noise. In the kitchen.”

  “It’s probably just the fridge. Or the wind.”

  “No, I don’t think it was the wind.”

  “You’re so jumpy tonight. Maybe watching zombie programmes isn’t such a great idea after all, eh?”

  “I know I heard something. Just... shush a minute.”

  “What?”

  “Shhh. Listen. Can you hear that? Like, snuffling or something?”

  “Snuffling? What are you on..? Oh! Oh, yeah. I can hear it now. Shit! What do we do?”

  “I’m not sure... just stay quiet. It’s in the kitchen.”

  “Do you think someone’s broken in? Or an animal or something?”

  “Shhh... wait... wait a minute. Whatever it is, it sounds like it’s by the back door. If that’s how it got in, maybe it’ll go out the same way.”

  “What if it doesn’t? Should we try and get out the front?”

  “Maybe. Actually... Yeah, come on. Let’s do that. Quietly... No. No. Stop. I can hear it moving. It’s heading for the hallway.”

  “Oh, God. Oh, shit. Right...”

  “What are you doing with the newspaper?”

  “Making a weapon!”

  “No, leave it. That won’t help. I can hear it in the hall. I’m gonna sneak into the kitchen and grab a knife or something. Stay here.”

  “No bloody way! You’re not leaving me! I’m coming with you.”

  “Fine. Stay quiet. Shhh... yeah... it’s gone down the hall. Come on.”