by Laney Cairo
Talgerit led them down into a gully, lighting the way with a sphere of light, and they all stumbled and slid down the hillside, unable to distinguish real boulders and trees from remembered ones, not by the ethereal light of the sphere.
They found a clearing, where there were neither real nor remembered trees, and Samuel sat in the middle of it, his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes shut, hanging onto Talgerit's dog, while Nick and Talgerit foraged a little, collecting twigs and leaves to start a fire with.
They found water, at the bottom of the gully, and Nick took Samuel down there to drink while Talgerit started the fire with one of his spheres. The bush around them rustled, and eerie faces peered out of the darkness. When Nick lobbed a rock, the rock sailed right through the figures, but they still drank from the creek as quickly as they could.
The fire was burning brightly in the darkness when Nick stumbled back into the clearing, pulling Samuel along behind him.
They had damper, flour mixed with water to make a paste, then stuck onto twigs and held over the fire, because, as Talgerit said, “No good hunting, can't tell live from dead, and it won't be good eating dead."
Talgerit built the fire up high, so sparks flew up into the night, to keep them warm in the cold that crept up the gully, and Samuel shivered and wrapped his jacket closer around himself. They sat like that, the three of them around the fire, and things that Nick didn't know the names of were attracted to the light of the fire.
They saw remembered people, too, ghosts of Noongar and whiteman both, peering out of the darkness, and Samuel kept his eyes tightly closed and hung onto Talgerit's dog and Nick.
None of them slept.
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Chapter Ten
Morning came late, with sunlight not managing to struggle through the gloom of the gully enough to cast a shadow. Talgerit took Nick's pocketknife and went down to the creek to get them breakfast.
They heard him shrieking, and Nick took off down the hillside, stumbling and falling, Samuel right behind him, to the creek.
Talgerit was up the creek a little, underneath a eucalypt on the bank, struggling with something, shouting and yelling, his dog yipping frantically and jumping in and out of the water.
Nick charged up the creek, slipping over rocks, Samuel struggling to keep up with him. Talgerit was wrestling with an enormous thing, easily the size of his dog, with massive pincers and a brown and blue shell.
It had one pincer around Talgerit's ankle, and Talgerit had the knife in the back of its head, but Talgerit was obviously feeling more pain than the thing. Nick picked up a decent size rock and crashed it into the thing's head, and Talgerit's dog got his teeth into the other claw and shook his head and wrenched the claw off.
It didn't take much, after that, to force the claw open and free Talgerit's foot, and Talgerit aimed a vicious kick at the dead thing with his good foot.
"Bloody thing,” Talgerit said with feeling. “Bet it tastes good."
Samuel looked down at the claws and body, and the only shape that fitted in his experience was ‘lobster'.
"It's enormous,” Samuel said. “I had no idea lobsters got so big."
"It's not lobster,” Nick said, flipping the carcass over and inspecting the underside. “It's marron, freshwater crayfish, just ten times bigger than it should be. Wash your ankle in the creek, Talgerit, and I'll look and see if you need stitches."
They sat around the fire, the marron buried in the ashes, sizzling away, and Nick poured alcohol over Talgerit's wound, making him flinch, then sewed him up quickly, drawing the edges of the cut together to keep dirt out and speed healing. Samuel could well believe Talgerit's claim that he didn't scream when he was scarred, since he bore the suturing stoically.
The marron tasted amazingly good, fresh from the ashes, its charred shell falling away to reveal pink and cream flesh that melted in the mouth, and Talgerit got the privilege of cooking and then bashing open with a rock the claw that had done the damage to him.
Going back to the creek for one last drink of water was not appealing, though.
The gully seemed to have changed shape during the night, and the path they had taken to find the clearing and creek was no longer there. Talgerit muttered, “Boyee,” when they found their way blocked by boulders.
"Do we climb over?” Samuel asked, looking up the slope.
"No!” Nick and Talgerit said simultaneously, and Talgerit's dog barked, across the gully.
"Follow the dog,” Talgerit said. “Dog always knows which way to go."
Following the dog was hard work, with even Talgerit struggling to cope. Samuel's leg ached, where he had broken it, an ache that just grew and grew the more they struggled through invisible forests, and up real hills that never seemed to end.
He'd given up being scared that morning, when the monster attacked Talgerit. Eating the lobster afterward had not really been any consolation, even though Talgerit and Nick both seemed to consider it the ultimate victory. Samuel would rather live in a world where lobsters lived in the ocean and stayed the right size.
"Why was it so big?” Samuel asked Nick, when they sat down at the top of a hill so Talgerit could rest.
"Radiation,” Nick said. “We're at the edge of the blast zone now. And a lack of predators, at least until Talgerit came along."
"Good eating,” Talgerit said, and they all inspected the wound in his ankle. It was nasty, and if he survived, Talgerit was going to have a huge scar, but considering the hatched scarring across Talgerit's back and chest, he might actually approve of this.
"It nearly ate you,” Samuel pointed out, and Talgerit shrugged and grinned, a flash of his usual cheerfulness showing through.
"Good eating."
Once he'd decided he was beyond being scared, Samuel found he could keep going much longer, even with his leg hurting. They walked on, through the day, up and down hills, sticking to the painted lines on the old road where they could, resting for Talgerit's benefit, following the dog.
It rained, making the day even darker. Rivulets ran beside the road, and they drank the water while they could get it. At dusk, after Talgerit had lit one of his spheres to guide them, Samuel realized they were being followed.
"Something's behind us,” he said, tightening his grip on Nick's arm. “Something moving."
They heard a deep rumbling noise, like thunder far off, and Talgerit said, “Boyee! Run!"
They ran, a strange stumbling, halting flight, sticking to the road, and when Samuel glanced over his shoulder, a fucking boulder was rolling at them, actually rolling at them, and he had a horrendous moment of realization as to what the boyees he'd heard of were.
He clenched his teeth tightly together to stop himself from praying, clenched his mind equally tightly, and his arse, and Talgerit shouted, “That way!” and pointed down into a gully.
Samuel didn't care how large the lobsters were, he'd rather deal with one of them than a fucking rock that could chase him, and they all plunged down a slope, slipping and falling, to splash into the creek and up the opposite slope.
Talgerit was stooped over at the top of the slope, amongst the bushes, breathing hard and clutching his ankle, blood oozing between his fingers, when Samuel and Nick made it up the gravel beside him.
"Shh,” Talgerit said, and Samuel held his breath to stop his chest and throat from rasping, and the bush was silent. He couldn't hear any bird sounds, no breeze rustled the trees, there weren't even any flies buzzing around them. It was silent.
"It's gone,” Nick said and knelt down beside Talgerit to prize his fingers off his ankle. “That's not good, Talgerit. I need to wrap it up."
Talgerit pulled what was left of his T-shirt off and handed it down to Nick, who tore it with his teeth and tied it tightly around Talgerit's ankle.
The Wagyl scale was secured around Talgerit's neck by twine, and it glowed faintly in the dusk now it wasn't covered by his clothes. Talgerit slung his emu feather boots back over his
shoulders so they hung beside the scale.
They didn't move, just stood still in the dusk, and then Talgerit slowly took his feather boots off his shoulders again and undid the cord that held them, then slid them on his feet.
"It's time,” he said. “Gonna be a Featherman now. You all follow me, and dog."
He walked slowly, with a limp, his feet looking absurd, as though he was wearing giant feather slippers, and he held aloft a ball of light.
Dog led them back to the road, Talgerit walking carefully behind him, and the night stayed still and silent. Samuel followed behind Talgerit, equally carefully walking in his footsteps, and Nick's hand was wound in the back of Samuel's jacket, solid and certain behind him.
A timelessness settled about Talgerit, like there had been back in the farmhouse kitchen, as though the turning of the earth didn't matter. The remembered trees seemed more substantial now, less like ghosts, but they still slipped through them easily and smoothly.
The lines on the old road shone in the light from the sphere, and the moon and stars seemed brighter, wheeling over them in the night sky.
Samuel should have been hungry, they hadn't eaten since the marron at the beginning of the day, but his stomach didn't rumble, even though they must have walked twenty kilometers that day already.
When Samuel looked up from the line on the road, shadowy shapes moved along with them, ghosts of people, ghosts of places, but the most surprising were the two cartoon-like characters they passed, looming garishly beside the road, remnants of the white occupation that the land remembered, too.
In the faint glow of the dawn, the dog sat down, then flopped on the road, nose on its paws, and went to sleep.
Talgerit took a deep breath in, and the stillness slipped away from him, and Samuel became aware of the wind rustling the trees and the cockatoos shouting, welcoming the sun.
"Rest,” Talgerit said, and they all sat down, right where they were on the road.
It was only when Samuel stretched out on the hard road that he realized how exhausted his body was. His legs were trembling with fatigue and he felt weak and light-headed, and it was obvious he wasn't the only one who felt like that. Talgerit was moaning weakly, and Nick slumped against him, taking shuddering breaths in.
They should move off the road, find some shelter and some water, but it all seemed too hard right then, and Samuel closed his eyes.
* * * *
A fire crackling woke Samuel; the sun was shining fitfully on his face, and he could smell the most wonderful odor of roasting meat.
Talgerit was asleep still, curled up around his dog, while the dog was munching on a rabbit carcass.
That was what Samuel could smell, roast rabbit, and Nick was sitting beside the fire, skinned rabbits propped over the heat, and he looked up and smiled when he noticed Samuel moving.
"Want some water?” he asked, and he held out a metal container to Samuel.
"You caught rabbits?” Samuel asked, and his body shouted at him when he sat upright, his legs feeling wobbly and useless.
He drank water gratefully out of the container, gulping it down, and Nick said, “If Talgerit can, so can I."
Samuel didn't think he could make himself stand up, so he crawled over beside Nick and leaned against him. “How come you're not exhausted?” Samuel asked.
"A long time ago, I had my exhaustion perception centre surgically removed, when I first started working as a doctor,” Nick said, and it took Samuel a moment to work out he was teasing.
"Do you think you could take mine out, too?” Samuel asked weakly.
"I suspect you've burned yours out now,” Nick said. “And look, down there."
Samuel lifted his head and shaded his eyes, peering through the remembered trees. A road, wide and black, well-maintained, cut a swath through the trees, both real and long past.
"What is it?” Samuel asked. “Whose road is it?"
"That's Great Eastern Highway, according to both your map and my memory. I've watched a couple of huge trucks laden with drums go down it, with military escorts. Guess someone is mining something, somewhere north and east of here. Idiots."
"What could they be mining?” Samuel asked. “What is there left?"
"You name it, it's out there,” Nick said. “If it's in drums then it's probably not natural gas or oil, since they'd be moved in tankers. Presumably it's an ore."
Something made a faint rumble in the distance, felt rather than heard, and Samuel made himself get up on his feet and shade his eyes to watch the truck roll past, half a kilometer away at least, the back of the huge tracked stacked with drums, all bearing a triangular warning sign.
What he saw was not good. He sat down again and looked at Nick with horror. “That's yellowcake they're moving,” he said. “They're mining uranium."
Nick looked like he was going to throw up, and Samuel understood it completely. They were about to walk into what had previously been a city, before it had been decimated by nuclear weapons, and the military was escorting uranium ore right past the city.
"Where are they shipping it out of?” Samuel asked, reaching for the map that Nick had beside him.
They looked at the map, and Nick pointed at the coastline. “Fremantle is gone. Rockingham, too. There's a train line from here, in Midland, that runs down the coast to Bunbury, they could have fixed that up. I wonder if someone has rebuilt the port at Bunbury?"
"Would you know if they had?” Samuel asked, looking at where Nick was pointing. “Is the area populated?"
"It's not supposed to be,” Nick said. “It's supposed to be heavily contaminated still. Oh, fuck, it might not be. All anyone would have to do is just say it is, and no civilian will go near the area."
Samuel's stomach churned. “There're no satellites that cover the Southern Hemisphere, there's no way that anyone would know if the port was active. The World Government would have stopped them if it suspected uranium was being mined again. The worldwide moratorium on nuclear power is binding; breaking the moratorium will stop all trade in and out of Australia."
Talgerit lifted his head and said, “What, eh?"
"There's a road,” Nick said. “With trucks on it, just down the hill."
Talgerit stood up, stretching and yawning, and looked where Nick was pointing, then took the can of water Nick offered him.
"Clever, getting water in old cans,” Talgerit said, sitting down again.
"What do we do about the road?” Samuel asked. “Can we walk along it?"
"Dunno,” Talgerit said, and he poked one of the rabbits with a filthy finger. “Not cooked yet.” He flashed a grin at Nick. “You hunted?"
Nick nodded and said, “Threw rocks at rabbits, just like you. If I'd had a shotgun with me, I would have got a roo."
"Can't be a Featherman with a shotgun, Ed said so,” Talgerit said. “Magic doesn't work if you do, have to use Noongar tools."
"You used a knife,” Samuel said. “To get the marron."
Talgerit shrugged, and smiled disarmingly. “And if I hadn't, maybe it wouldn't have bitten me. Maybe it would have."
When Nick unwrapped the T-shirt strips from Talgerit's ankle, the skin was open and torn still, but it looked far better than Samuel thought it had any right to, as though it was healing already.
"I've been fixing it,” Talgerit said. “Soon won't need Dr. Nick at all, except to be a brother. Then I can stay at camp, and Dr. Nick can go hunting for me instead."
"You should get a wife,” Nick said, his sunburned cheeks crinkling with a smile. “Then you can send her hunting, and stay at camp and get fat."
Talgerit chortled at the idea while Nick wrapped his ankle back up again. “Gonna get fat anyway,” he said, grabbing the flat plane of his belly and shaking it. “Gonna have a Featherman belly, get all round and strong."
* * * *
After they'd eaten the rabbits, they stood, reasonably sure that between the remembered trees and Talgerit's feather shoes they were not easy to see, and looked down
the cutting to the road.
"Over there,” Nick said. “If we cut across the road, we should be able to work our way through what used to be small farms, and approach the city that way."
"Road's not good,” Talgerit said. “Even Feathermen get squashed by trucks."
"They're hardly quiet,” Samuel said, sliding his fingers into Nick's hand, and Nick squeezed his grubby hand. “We can hear them coming."
"Guns are quiet,” Talgerit said. “Until they're loud. We can go across at night."
"I hate to tell you this, Talgerit,” Nick said, “but the guns can see in the dark. Night won't be any safer."
"Is there anything magical you can do?” Samuel asked. “To distract them?"
Talgerit was quiet for a while, long enough that another military vehicle rumbled past on the road below them.
"What about a boyee?” Nick asked. “That'd make trouble for them, stop the trucks and APCs."
"That's a fuel store, isn't it?” Samuel asked, pointing further down the slope. “Boyee in there would make a big mess, and they couldn't possibly suspect that there'd be people moving around."
The yard held distinctive cylinders of liquefied petroleum gas, surrounded by a high fence, with machine gun turrets on the fencing. It looked like the intention was to stop people getting in and taking the cylinders out.
"Is it protected magically at all, Talgerit?” Nick asked. “Can you tell?"
"No Noongar magic there,” Talgerit said. “Might be whiteman magic, but boyees don't care."
"What's whiteman magic?” Samuel asked, and he sounded intrigued.
Talgerit thrashed his arms and legs around, stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes, presumably miming the effects of the whiteman magic, and Nick said, “Electric fences, right?"
"Too right,” Talgerit said, rearranging his limbs back to normal. “Never piss on them, ever. Dog knows that too, eh?"
His dog panted and flopped down at Talgerit's feet.
The boyee took time, since Talgerit had to either tame or persuade one of the wild ones to help him, or create one from an ordinary boulder, and Nick could understand Talgerit's reluctance to try and catch something that wanted to catch him, so they waited while Talgerit made a new one.
