by Abby James
“I have to warn Mum. Sebastian.”
I turned and ran down the hill before Marion could protest any further, landing on my bum a couple of times and scratching my hands when I grabbed the wrong shrubs to halt my slide.
“Mac.”
I kept going. Her calls were caught on the wind and blown away from me. I ignored them and kept running and sliding until I reached the bottom, then set off at a gallop down the streets. Attracted by my passing, the local dogs came out to run barking beside me. Our house was at the end of the next street over. After three more buildings, I would be able to duck down the alley and join our street just past Natasha’s Bakery.
“Malachi, where are you going?”
“A harvest utility is coming.”
“What? How far?”
I skidded to a stop to answer Selby’s question. “About ten miles out, but half that now.”
“So, where’re you going?”
“Home.”
“No, you stupid girl.”
By this stage she had crossed the distance to me and pulled my arm toward her.
“Your mom won’t want you there. Go to the bunker now.”
“I can’t. Seb—”
“Will be safe. He still has another year.”
“You can’t say that for sure.”
“True, but the one thing I can say is you’re not. Go now, and I’ll warn your mother.”
I stared at her, not sure if I could trust her. Her priority would be for her own son. Although he was two years younger than Seb, so under less of a threat, she was likely to scurry off and secure him before she worried about anyone else’s children.
“What about the bell?”
“I’ll bother with that as well.”
“You can’t do both. Let me worry about my mum and you worry about everyone else.”
I wrenched my arm from her grasp and started running before she took hold of me again, not that she would. It’s not like I was her main concern.
I took off with my followers again yapping at my heels, drawing curious shop owners out to their doorways.
“A harvest utility,” was all I bothered saying as I sprinted past. The announcement sent some scurrying back indoors, but the impact was not the same for all. Of those who disappeared inside, some would be selecting the best of their saleable items to place in their shop windows, or even drag a table out front, where everything was better displayed.
The last time soldiers arrived, I’d been fourteen. It was their usual reconnoiter of the region, conducting a census of the population. A simple reconnaissance required the scout vehicle and two men, taking a couple of days to complete, because of all the information compiling and then the drinking with the mayor and other local compatriots.
There were many in this town who gained too much from the soldiers to help me. Even now, there were probably those who watched me run close to the shop fronts like a rat, tracking my movements and direction so they could report me to the Collectors if I managed to evade the noose. We all knew who those people were, kept them out of the secrets we held, such as the location of the bunker and where the secure sites were in the desert.
I ducked down the next alley, running more freely now I no longer felt the weight of possible traitors. Small clumps of hard grasses hugged pockets of the wall under the drip line of the roof overhang. These were now coated in dust from the vehicles and would stay that way until we had rain or a good wind. The wind would come first.
With one more block until I turned, the vehicles drove into town. Dust billowed in their wake, funneling outward in swirls and hitting the buildings on either side, dusting all in a red film that would never be completely removed. The scout vehicle came first, kicking up the dirt for the utility that rolled in behind. The noise they brought with them punctuated the usual stillness of midday.
I skidded and ducked down the gap between the closest two buildings. Dammit. I wasn’t going to make it.
I eased back farther into the gap, wedging myself and yelling at my entourage to disappear. It took a few curses, but the dogs soon got the idea I didn’t want them around, or perhaps it was the coming vehicles, which excited their attention more than following a now stationary target.
The rough brickwork pressed into my shoulders. I crouched as much as the squeeze would allow, hoping to become invisible. Soon the vehicles passed me by and some of the dust in their wake found me hiding. Folding my head to my knees didn’t help.
My heart sank when the vehicles pulled in some twenty meters away. If they’d parked farther up the road, I could’ve chanced sprinting home. This close, my escape would not go unnoticed. Perhaps Myles would attempt to monopolize their time, holding the impending roundup for me. How far would I get, though? The bunker was up the other end of the town. I would never be able to get Seb and make it there in time, especially since I would be forced to skirt the main strip and take some of the back alleys to reach the other end.
What was the best course of action now? I could stay wedged between these buildings and wait it out, but there was every possibility they would find me. My mother would simply clam up when pressed as to where I was, but with me so openly concealed, the lie would prove embarrassing. Besides, I had to attempt to save Seb. He was underage, but only just and a big-sized underage at that. Perhaps this time they would overlook the age limit because the size of the catch was impressive.
Some of the villagers who had nothing to fear because either they had no children or their children had already been overlooked would make smart comments about how my mum needed to stop feeding him so much if she wanted to keep him by her side. It was people like Myles, our town mayor, whose daughter was sallow, thin and whiny. Most believed he kept her like that, ill fed and ill tempered, so the Collectors would pass her by, which my mum said was cruel of most to say.
Unfortunately, Seb was not so lucky as to be born a runt. He’d started everything younger than most, crawling, walking, running and shaving. I suspected his pubic hair grew through young as well because, when eleven, he started slamming the door on me whenever I tried to get into the bathroom during his shower time. To me, he was still too much a kid to be developing any signs of manhood.
Mum cried for Seb, but not me. The older villagers claimed I would be as much a target as my brother, but the declaration never seemed to elicit the same effect from her. True, they took more boys than girls in a harvest, but anyone was vulnerable. As he grew, Mum started following Seb to the veranda as he left for the fields and remained there long after he’d disappeared, watching him, and then watching the ghost of him, depart. Her actions remained heavy for hours after he left, even though he would only be gone for the day. It scared me to see her like that, as if she was privy to a divination that weighted her soul. Of course, it wasn’t until I grew and he grew and the first harvest truck I remembered arrived that I understood her fear. It became my own.
Doors slamming, then voices, not too far away, had me trying to sink back into the gap. Any farther and my ass would become permanently stuck, as the walls of the buildings had been erected by amateurs. Behind me the gap reduced in centimeters with every foot. After words I couldn’t make out, crunching on gravel and fading voices, I assumed it was safe for me to exit from my pathetic hidey-hole. But which way would I head? To the bunker or my house?
Once the crunching was far enough away for me to think they had moved farther on, I waited a little longer, then crept forward and inched my head around the brickwork. The vehicles remained but everyone who arrived in them had gone. The utility would seat about twenty at a guess. They planned on leaving with a few. I already knew most of the names that would be marked off the roll. The one thing I would make sure of was that Seb was not one of them. And what about me?
I headed back down the road for home, skirting the shop fronts so I would have a place to duck into if they reappeared. It was likely they’d headed to McFerson’s for a beer after the long, dusty journey. I still had a chance.
/> I burst out into the next street, increasing my momentum now my home was in sight. The quiet street increased my hope. The Collectors must still be enjoying their beers, confident they would find everyone on their list.
I crossed the street at a dead run, my lungs arguing with the effort being asked of them. Just two more houses and I would be home. My feet pounded a rhythm of their own now. I began planning ahead—grab Seb or rather demand Seb come with me. He would fight against hiding. For some infuriating reason, he believed he was old enough to make that choice.
I leaped the small brick wall at the front of our house. One foot clipped the top brick, because there was less in my legs than I thought, and I nearly kissed the dirt. I stumbled a few paces before regaining my balance, bounded up the two steps and hit the front door at a run, expecting it to be off the latch, which was normally how we did things. The shock of the rebound sent me onto my ass.
Within seconds, footfalls, starting from afar and coming nearer, had me on my feet and at the front door waiting. Mum opened the door.
“They’re here, Mum. Me and Marion were on Parky Hill when we saw the dust on the horizon. The utility’s big so they’ve come expecting a harvest.” I managed to say all of this as I pushed past Mum and headed down the hall for the kitchen. “Where’s Seb? I ran like hell to get he—”
I’d reached the lounge room door, halfway down the hall to the kitchen. Inside I found Seb. And he wasn’t alone.
The man standing by the window, which happened to look out over the front wall, turned at my silence. “Malachi. Welcome. Come and join us.”
I turned to Mum, who looked at me in a silent reproving stare. I knew what was being said by her unspoken words. Why didn’t I go to the bunker?
“Come.” He gestured with his hand for me to enter.
Instead of a free scurrying rat, I was now a trapped one.
With my heart now refusing to calm down from my mad dash, I did the only thing I could. I moved into the room, heading for a space next to Seb, whom I did my own interpretation of Mum’s stare on. He’d probably opened the door for them.
Another man sat in a single seater to the right. He watched me enter with the eyes of a hawk.
“Wait.” The man standing paced toward me as I spun to look at him. His command shot through my body like an arrow, immobilizing the entirety of me, except my heart, which told me I was still very much alive. His eyes, like his companions, were keen, and even though they never once left my face, I felt them devour the whole of me. He continued pacing when he reached me, skirting around me. I turned with him, unsure of what he was doing or what was expected of me.
He smirked. I stared back, trying a Mum look on him as well, which made his lips tilt up more. He looked down at me because he was tall and I was short, like my mum. His haircut was snipped to military precision, missing his ears by inches and exposing scalp through bristles everywhere else. His dark eyes were sharp as lasers, cutting through my strong pretense.
He completed his circumference, during which his eyes left my face on numerous occasions. He wanted me to see his eyes roaming. It was obvious he wanted to see the back as well as the front, but his smile remained, even though I refused him permission to look at my ass by completing the circumference spin with him.
He looked down into my eyes. “Never mind, there’s plenty of time to see it all.”
Seb stood, drawing all eyes to him. His face was red and his fists knotted.
“Seb.” I stepped between him and the soldier, grabbing his fists in my hands. With my back to the interloper, I tried a silent warning, creasing my forehead until it felt like my eyebrows would knit together permanently.
“You have something to say, son?” the man on the couch responded. He stood as well, so that, in our comfortable lounge room filled with inviting chairs, everyone stood.
“No, he doesn’t.” My words were angry, accusatory.
“Do you, son?” he provoked Seb. Thank god, Seb’s spunk shriveled in the presence of men who were at least half a head taller despite him being a big boy.
“You’ve grown well. Looks like Mum takes care of you.”
I wanted to shove Seb behind me and fend them off with the metal poker stick from the fire.
The man who’d been sitting came up to Seb, ignoring me, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Would you like to come with us?”
“You can’t. He’s underage.”
Mum stepped forward the same time as I spoke, but she didn’t say anything.
“We’ve been keeping a special eye on you. You already look like a man. Seventeen, almost eighteen. How long until your birthday?”
“Ten months, sir.”
“That will go real quick. It saves us another trip.” He turned to Mum. “He won’t be put into service until he is of age, but I think it will do him good to be under our care.” He appraised Seb again. “I think we will be able to find a good position for you.”
Mum looked away, so I didn’t see her face, but I knew my mum. She would be struggling to maintain her composure, although she would never show it. At that point I snapped. That’s all she ever did, remained calm and quiet, accepting rather than standing up to life. Sure, they were a tsunami and we were grains of sand, but a little bit of defiance, and I’m sure I would feel a whole lot better. “You can’t do that. You can’t take him now. It’s in your bloody constitution or whatever that fat rule book is sitting in the mayor’s office. No children under the age of eighteen. If you don’t even follow your own rules, why should we?”
Mum’s gasp spiked the heat already burning in my gut. Seb grabbed my hand and pulled me back level with him. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
I rounded on him. “And you’re in such a hurry to abandon us and join their team. Honestly, Seb. You don’t even know what they want to do with you.” I rounded on them. “No one knows what they do with all the kids that get taken.”
He stepped toward me. The closer he came, the farther I craned my neck. He was close enough now that I could smell his cologne. I’d barely smelt cologne. None around here had a need to wear it, except Myles, who wore a bottle’s worth a day.
“Don’t worry. You’ll know soon enough.” He winked at me. “It’s your time too, sweetheart.”
I couldn’t fathom her pain. I’d grown in the shadow of her emptiness, unconsciously imbuing her emotions without understanding their meaning. As a result, I was anchored to a black emotion without the ability to gift it with words.
Chapter 4
I stilled at the knock on my door. Without waiting, Mum entered. She lowered herself onto my bed, next to my partially packed bag.
“I know you’re angry with me. But please, honey, not now. We have such little time left. I don’t want to spend that in silence.”
I dropped the clothing I was holding and sat next to her.
“I’m not angry. Well, maybe a little, but not at you.”
She smiled and placed her hand over mine. “Yes, you are, and I don’t blame you. You think I’ve not fought enough to keep you all.”
“You haven’t fought at all, Mum. You never do.”
She looked at her hands resting in her lap. In profile, I saw her cloak of sadness. The tension in my muscles, the sudden spark of heat, which exploded in my chest, ebbed away. This was the silence that plagued the important moments of our life and drew a barrier between me and my only living parent.
Why couldn’t I be more like Seb? Why couldn’t I be enough for her? If only I could find a voice for these questions. But the silence that lived between us gave no room for us to talk now.
“I’m sorry.” I stood and shoved something else into my bag.
Mum placed her hand over mine. “You’ve got no reason to be sorry. None of this is your fault. It’s just the way it is. It’s the way it’s always been and the way it always will be.”
Her words held the note of finality. Grave situations always elicited a tone of inevitability and hopelessnes
s in her voice. I closed my eyes as the desire to pull my hand from hers and shout at her overwhelmed me. Why, Mum? Why does it have to be like this? Why don’t you fight? Fight for Seb? Fight for me?
I swallowed my anger, always swallowed my anger at her. Her fragility was not strong enough to pound against.
“You’ll be all right—”
“How do you know, Mum? Once I’m gone, you’ll never see me again. How can you know I will be all right?” With those words, the tears threatened. Nothing would be all right. I was losing my family. A hollowness opened up inside of me and panic spewed out.
She pulled a folded piece of paper from her jeans pocket. “Put this somewhere safe. Look at it before you reach Fortescue. But no one needs to see.” She pressed it into my palm.
“What is it?”
She folded my fingers around the paper. “My gift to you.”
I stared down at her hands wrapped around my own as a tear dropped onto my skin.
“Mum.”
She turned away from me, but not before I caught the rest of her tears streaking her cheeks.
A knock silenced us. A deep, rough voice barked through the door, “We have six hours of daylight left. It’s time we headed out.”
Mum wiped her eyes with her sleeve, then leaped from the bed, spreading the distance between us. Mr. Crewcut appeared in the doorway, eyes flicking from Mum to me. The moments were disappearing. I grabbed Mum’s hand, too many words building in my throat, choking any hope of me being able to say anything. She rested her palm on my cheek. “I love you, Malachi.”
She left.
Mr. Crewcut took her place inside my room, prowling the confines of the small space, eyeing everything around him.
“I’m coming, all right. No need for the intimidation act.”
“I wasn’t trying for that, and if you feel it, I apologize.”
“Yeah, right. Isn’t that how you guys keep people like us under control?”
“Hopefully your antagonism will fade over time, for your sake. It will make your life easier.”
