Carrier

by Vanessa Garden

  Hurriedly, I rolled Jonny in first, then, after taking a break to catch my breath, and sipping water from my canteen, I did the same with Luke.

  Because Luke was so much heavier, it took a lot longer, and by the time I had covered them both with sand and laid some pale pink desert flowers on top of their graves, birds had begun to chirrup in nearby trees and the first golden rays of sunlight warmed my face.

  I muttered words, pieces of prayers and snatches of passages from favourite books I had read over the years, before I wiped my face and headed back to the truck, my muscles screaming with exhaustion.

  After climbing into the cab, I fell asleep, my head resting against the steering wheel, until I woke up some time later, drool dribbling down my chin.

  My stomach groaned.

  I checked on the children, and seeing as they were still asleep, decided on a quick hunt.

  Half an hour later I emerged from the bush with two dead rabbits dangling from my hands by their soft grey ears. I was thinking about Sapphire’s stone, and trying to remember exactly where I’d shot Aticon so I could find it, when I froze and fell to the ground at the sound of voices.

  From beneath the truck, I could see long, skinny dark legs carefully edging their way along the sand as the small group of people inspected the vehicles.

  When they reached the end truck, the one the children were sleeping in, I called out.

  ‘Hello!’

  The legs froze then, before slowly, they bent at the knees.

  Several dark faces peered beneath the truck. One of them smiled.

  ‘Lena!’

  ‘Sapphire?’

  Leaping to my feet, I ran toward the trucks. Sapphire came around and ran towards me, enveloping me in her reed thin arms.

  ‘You didn’t go with them?’ I asked, so surprised and excited to see another human face.

  Sapphire’s family hung back in a group, nodding their heads toward me, but not approaching.

  I nodded my head back.

  ‘My grandfather led us away and hid us good. Remember, he knew they were coming. What about you?’

  I told her what had happened and by the time I finished she was shaking her head.

  ‘Now you’re all alone without your mum,’ she said with sad, shining eyes, bringing a lump to my throat.

  ‘No,’ I said smiling through my tears. ‘I’ve got the kids and now I’ve got you and your family. We can travel to the coast together.’

  Sapphire smiled, her lips wobbling while she rubbed at her eyes.

  ‘Grandfather wants to go east. He thinks the coast will be full of dead bodies and bad luck.’

  Panic squeezed my heart tight.

  ‘When are you leaving?’ I held the rabbits up. ‘Want to share lunch? Your family can eat, too.’ I looked back at where they’d been standing and they were gone.

  A bird called. It was the same call from the waterhole. Just the sound of it crushed my heart.

  ‘No, don’t go, Sapphire.’

  She took my hand in her own and left something smooth and shiny in my palm. I knew by touch it was the sapphire I’d shot Aticon with.

  ‘I found it in the grass over there,’ she said with a flick of her head. ‘We’re leaving now. I have to go, Lena.’ Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. ‘Maybe one day I’ll see you again.’

  I nodded and took her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. ‘If the coast is no good we’ll come east.’

  She squeezed my hand before releasing me, our fingers trailing until our hands broke apart.

  Chapter 23

  For the rest of the morning, while the kids slept, I practised driving — in another truck — backward, forward, in circles and straight lines until it ran out of fuel and I was reasonably skilled, enough to get us to the coast anyway.

  When the kids woke up, we said some words and laid fresh flowers on Luke and Jonny’s graves, before climbing into the cab of the truck.

  I turned the key and engine roared into life. The kids, who could barely see over the dashboard, grinned up at me.

  ‘Are we going to have a swim with the fishies?’ asked Petra. When I nodded, Sammy laughed and hugged Peter to his chest, his little eyes staring over the dashboard with hope. I was amazed at the children’s ability to focus on the now — on the fact that we were driving to an unknown destination with the promise of a new life by the sea, instead of thinking about the horrors of last night, which was something I could not stop doing.

  There was Patrick’s stricken face and the betrayal in his eyes, Jonny’s shattered skull and Luke’s glassy, vacant eyes, and the fact that I didn’t get to say goodbye to Mum. Then there were the Aticonans. I couldn’t shake the creepy, wormy feeling from having my brain invaded by the grey guards, and especially Aticon himself.

  But the children’s improved mood, their unbridled enthusiasm and their endless questions about the ocean and the creatures that lived in it, was infectious, and soon I was able to push the past twenty four hours into the darkest corner of my memory bank and focus instead on what lay ahead.

  But as we passed Patrick’s house a short time later, its tin roof peeking through the trees, stone cold melancholy hit me hard, causing my eyes to prickle with tears, skewing my vision enough to make me pump the brakes.

  I leant my head against the steering wheel until somebody tugged on my shirtsleeve.

  ‘Can the doggy come too?’ asked Petra over the roar of the idling truck.

  ‘What doggy?’ I asked, lifting my head.

  ‘That one,’ said Petra, pointing to the orange ball of fur curled up on the side of the track.

  In a blink I was out of the cab and on the ground.

  ‘Emma?’

  Emma eased herself onto her three legs, wobbled then fell onto her rump again.

  ‘It’s okay, girl,’ I crooned into her ear as I scooped her up into my arms. ‘You’ve got plenty of time to learn how to walk again.’

  I tucked her in a blanket at the back of the truck, right near the cab so that she was visible to me and the kids.

  Next I circled the truck and called out in all directions for Charlotte. It wasn’t until my voice died in my throat half an hour later that I realised she wouldn’t be coming with me. That she had probably died or run off to hide somewhere.

  We hit the road again and after following a large, bumpy track for several hours, we reached a sealed road, and marvelled how the truck rolled smoothly along it, giving our bottoms a break from all the jumping and jarring. Emma hardly moved in the back, the long journey lulling her to sleep.

  When darkness closed in we ate the rabbits that I’d cooked over a fire before we had departed, and then slept locked up in the cab instead of the open back, Emma in my arms and Petra and Sammy leaning against each other. Now that I knew Sapphire and her family had escaped the Aticonans, there was the possibility that others were still about, and who knew if they were dangerous or not.

  However, after a few hours into our journey the next morning, I started to doubt that others existed at all.

  Houses started to pop up along the roadside, in small clusters, small towns with odd names like Chattering, where little streets branched off from the highway. There seemed to be no movement at any of these towns, and after we passed the sixth one, I changed gears and slowed the truck before pulling over on the side of the road.

  We got out, stretching our legs as we walked around the nearest house, calling out ‘Hello!’ But only the whistling wind answered.

  The kitchen was bare, as though the people had eaten every last skerrick of food before leaving.

  But when I stepped into their bedrooms I realised the house hadn’t been abandoned at all.

  Two adult-sized skeletons, with a smaller skeleton nestled between them lay beneath a moth-eaten blanket stained with something dark.

  ‘What is it?’ Petra asked, as she and Sammy tried to wriggle past me to get into the room.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said, keeping my voice bright and happy. ‘Let�
��s go. We want to get to the beach in time to watch the sun set over the ocean.’

  Their giggles echoed though the hollowness of the home, bouncing off the walls. I couldn’t get them out of there quick enough and decided not to stop at another house. There would be no food left in any kitchens after seventeen years, anyway. We’d survive on fish and whatever grew on the trees we came across. I pictured apples, oranges and grapes and although I’d never tasted them before, my stomach groaned with anticipation.

  We passed through the city of Perth, the tall buildings drawing ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ from the kids, but giving me the shivers. The way the tall towers speared up and towards the sky and cast shadows over us made my heart race with panic, as if there was a possibility they could topple over us at any minute.

  Cars were strewn across the road, as though people driving had suddenly stopped in the middle of the road and ran for their lives.

  I had to carefully navigate the truck around the rusting bodies to get through and continue on down the road, which according to the many green and white signs was called a Freeway.

  A sigh of relief whistled through my teeth as we left the city behind us and travelled down the freeway, turning right twenty minutes later, because that way headed west, towards the coast.

  We drove through narrower streets lined with houses, hundreds of them, and I knew from my books that we were driving through the ‘suburbs’. To see all of these homes, that once housed families — parents with laughing children — bare and neglected, the windows smashed and the insides dark and hollow sent a cold shiver down my back. The only thing that lifted my spirits was the blinding horizon, and the setting sun.

  We drove up a small hill and as we came over the top, my stomach lurched and my heart stuttered.

  ‘The sea!’ shouted Sammy and Petra in unison.

  I stood on the break and the car skidded to a stop.

  There before us spanned the ocean, the Indian Ocean, in all its shimmering glory.

  In silence, we watched the sun slip behind the sea, leaving behind streaks of gold and orange against the pale, purplish sky.

  Patrick would love this, I thought, wiping away the tears that streamed down my cheeks before the kids could see them. And I wondered then, seeing as it had crops, if the ship had any bodies of water on it to simulate the ocean?

  Nothing as beautiful as this.

  A minute later, Petra straightened in her seat.

  ‘Let’s go to the beach,’ she said happily, swinging her legs back and forth. Sammy nodded and I nodded back.

  ‘Okay. Let’s go catch some fish,’ I said, as we drove down the hill and towards the sea. After weaving our way through another small suburb, we found ourselves in a large area of gravel; a car park, judging by the numerous cars lined beside each other in a neat row.

  We got out and slammed the car doors behind us. The sandy coast was deserted, except for the seagulls which hovered above and then dove into the surface of the sea.

  ‘Silly birds,’ said Petra laughing over the soft roar of the sea.

  Sammy shook his head. ‘They aren’t silly. They’re catching fish.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said, before ruffling his hair, which was already mussed up from the sea breeze.

  ‘Dad told me,’ he added, his face solemn while he stared out at the ocean.

  After looking at several homes, we chose one nearest to the water, so that we could watch the ocean while we sat at the dining table. I had to smash a small, stained-glass window, which depicted a soaring blue dragonfly on it, to unlock the front door, and checked first for dead bodies. When I was completely certain there were none, I allowed the children to roam free and explore the rooms.

  After a few sleepless nights, we decided to sleep in the master bedroom together, with Emma curled up at our feet. This sleeping arrangement seemed to reduce the nightmares and give the children a sounder sleep.

  I myself found it difficult to close my eyes and not see the faces of those that I loved and missed, no matter how many days and weeks had passed.

  Mum’s face was already fading from my mind, just like Dad’s and Alice’s had. Patrick’s face came and went. Sometimes, I’d wake up from a dream, left with a crystal clear imprint of his face in my brain and I’d lie there in the dark, listening to the gentle breaths of the children, wishing Patrick was here with me, hoping that he’d forgiven me for not telling him the truth about his dad.

  Despite my nocturnal angst, time passed quickly.

  The kids and I spent our days catching fish and then cooking it. By day we swam in the sea, and used the sunlight to practice our reading and writing. We tried not to venture too far from home in case we stumbled across skeletal remains because the one time we did, Sammy cried and wouldn’t go outside for a week.

  It was only at night, while the kids slept their soundest, that I took to the streets and scavenged other houses for food — not that I expected to find any — and clothes. Most had already been stripped bare, the shopping centres included, most likely when the disease had first hit.

  Sometimes I hoped to run into another person, like me, foraging through the hollow homes, someone with children for Petra and Sammy to play with.

  But I never did.

  Everyone was either dead or gone.

  Sometimes we built fires on the shore, in hopes a boat would see us or another batch of aeroplanes would fly to our rescue. But none ever did. Perhaps the entire world had been whisked away by the Aticonans.

  Then, one morning, I awoke to a strange rumbling sound that rattled the windows and shook the earth.

  Sammy was standing at the window, watching the ocean. Though it appeared to be a cloudless day, a sudden darkness descended upon us — as though a large black cloud had passed over the sun.

  ‘What is it, Sammy?’ I heard Petra say.

  I got up out of bed and pulled my oversized dressing gown on, stubbing my toe on the corner of the dressing table and swearing beneath my breath.

  By now the sky had turned completely back, darkening the house.

  My heart thudded to a halt. The children screamed and Emma whimpered.

  With shaking hands, I lit a candle and moved to the window.

  Sammy turned to me, his lips parted, his eyes as round as breakfast bowls.

  ‘They’re back, Lena.’

  Chapter 24

  I made the children stay in the bedroom, beneath the covers with Emma, while I stepped outside.

  The gale-force winds slammed the door shut behind me and pinned me against the brick wall. Above me the night glittered not with stars, but with the flashing electric blue lights of Aticon’s ship which spanned the entire sky and reached the endless horizon.

  My body trembling, I waited for Aticon’s voice to penetrate my mind, but it did not.

  Several minutes passed, during which I shouted at the ship, imploring somebody to tell me what was happening.

  Then a hissing sound erupted and hot air rushed at me. I shut my eyes and shielded my face from the heat, my body curled up against the house bricks, my heart racing. Surely they wouldn’t land the ship on top of us.

  But when I looked again, the ship was moving away.

  ‘No! Come back!’ I waved my hands above me.

  Greetings, Lena.

  ‘Don’t go, come back!’ I screamed.

  Your people have found much happiness on our ship. All are now disease-free and thriving. Most of the men enjoy working the crops on the ship fields.

  I thought of Jonny, and how he would have enjoyed working in the fields, but had never gotten that chance.

  Control, Lena, harness your emotions.

  I sucked in several deep breaths, through my nose, until a wave of calm doused my anger.

  Your mother has coupled with the man you call Mattie. They are expecting their first young in a month, said Aticon, like he was reciting the gossip pages of a magazine.

  A thorn of bittersweet pain stabbed at my heart to think of Mum. Did she
think of me and miss me like I did her?

  You mother thinks of you each day. You are never far from her thoughts.

  ‘Tell her I love her,’ I whispered to the ship, my throat thickening with emotion.

  Lena, your sadness and longing, over time, has weakened me, in a way that I never considered possible. Therefore I present you with a gift, in hopes of stirring the pleasurable emotions I so enjoy.

  ‘What gift?’ I shouted over the hiss of the ship.

  The one you yearn for in your dreams, the one whose name you whisper in the darkness — he yearns for you too.

  The ship rose higher.

  Farewell for now, Lena, but not forever.

  The ship blasted more warm air and I clung to a drainpipe so that I didn’t blow across the yard along with the children’s playthings.

  And then, in a streak of blue, it was gone.

  The night was still again and I was alone in the dark.

  So that was my gift? Did he actually believe that flying all this way to tell me that Patrick pined for me was good news? That it would make me feel less alone?

  How could he not know — after being linked to me and all — that being apart from Patrick was like being split in two, and that hearing how much he missed me made it even worse?

  Perhaps if he’d said that Patrick still hated me I would feel better; because at least then, in some twisted way, I would know it wasn’t just the distance keeping us apart.

  I slid down the wall, the rough surface of the brick scratching my skin; but I was numb to the pain.

  Tears streamed down my face and I wiped at them with the hem of my t-shirt.

  Mum was happy, after all these years. The others were happy, too.

  I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling more empty and lost than ever.

  This could not be the end. The kids and I couldn’t just die alone, in an empty country, like this.

  ‘Lena!’ called a familiar voice from behind.

  It can’t be…

  Slowly I got up, my knees wobbling and my head dazed.