And not just any job.
This was the job of my life.
My defining moment.
What I’d trained, walked, talked and breathed for every moment since I could remember.
Before hauling my arse out of the car, I concentrated, filtering out the muted indistinguishable babble of the neighbour’s television, the screech of fruit bats fighting over the seeds in a nearby cocas palm tree, the barking of a lone dog further down the street.
All clear.
Satisfied, I climbed out and locked the door, giving my ‘baby’ an affectionate slap on its neon paint work as I passed.
Striding around the side of the concrete-block building I went through the gate then on into the narrow yard separating the business from the house. No welcoming lights blazed from the darkened windows. The air between the two buildings was stuffy. I took a deep breath, sucking down heat, the stink of garbage overlaid with the sweet scent of a scraggly rose bush that somehow managed to survive in rock hard ground and pitiful rainfall. A cat shot out from its hiding spot under the building and took off down the street, setting the dogs further along the road into a frenzy of barking.
Small towns.
All so similar.
I’d lost count of the number of places I’d scoured over the years searching for my mark. But now? Now we were close.
The knowledge sat satisfyingly deep in my bones.
And with what I knew was coming, in a matter of days I’d achieve my life’s purpose.
Or I’d be dead.
Nothing like no options to spur a man onto his goal. I grinned wryly.
The screen door was unlocked. I pushed it open and entered straight into a cramped living and dining area combined where a lone lamp radiated a dim light revealing the sparse furnishings. Tossing my keys onto the sideboard, I headed for the couch where I sank down onto the spongy cushions, wriggling my butt and enjoying the softness.
With my legs stretched out, I closed my eyes and took a moment to re-examine the events of the past few hours. Step by step I re-lived my every action, paying attention to the most minute of detail, looking for the slightest hint of a mistake.
There was no room for error in this mission.
A coolness trickled down my spine.
I knew without opening my eyes, my father had entered the room. Not pop. Not Dad. Occasionally I might get away with calling him, father. Nah, mostly it was ‘Sir’. Like any other soldier.
But, hey this was my life, I’d never known any other, never wanted any other.
I stayed where I was, not bothering to heave to my feet like I normally did. Then I frowned at my first ever whiff of rebellion wondering where the hell that had come from, what had triggered it.
My eyes snapped open to find him standing as if on parade in the doorway, his gaze cool and considering.
“Report,” ordered my father, Bob Garroway, Colonel Garroway of a secret army.
We’d been bred specifically for a dual purpose; to stand between our marks and those who would annihilate them until the alien armada arrived. Secondly, we’d be the conduit between our marks and the aliens who we’d termed ‘friends.’
Our alien ‘friends’ had named us Warders of Earth.
“There are a few possibilities. I’ve eliminated most of them. It now comes down to Crystal Chambers, Emma Andrews, Marnie Tolini.” I paused, thinking about my encounter with the babe behind the bar. My left hand curled into a fist.
My father’s stare dropped then zeroed back onto my face. “Good work. Do they suspect anything?”
“As far as I can tell at the moment, no. What about you? How are you going with your assimilation into the community?”
My father lowered himself into the armchair opposite. “So far, everything is going according to plan. You need to work faster, Alex. Our time is running out.”
“I know. I’ve sent word for Shay to lend a hand. One of the marks lives in Sydney. Shay will do a snatch and grab of her computer and phone. I realise its a risky move and one that may reveal our presence to the authorities but I felt it was necessary. When he hacked into her social networking links he found nothing. With luck this way, we’ll get access to a reasonable amount of data about her background and an insight into anything she may be hiding.”
“I find it interesting we were unable to identify the anonymous message we received pointing us to this location. Wallaby Creek would never have entered my radar otherwise.” My father’s voice was dry.
“Whoever it was must have exceptional IT skills.”
“Yes. I suspect we’re not alone in this town, Alex, although I’ve received no intel to verify my suspicions. They’re close. I can smell them.” His eyes fierce, my father held me with his gaze.
By ‘they’, I knew he referred to our enemy, the Mundos Novus force; a zealous army with a single agenda – eliminate us and our marks. Why? I had no idea but I thought it had a lot to do with greed and power.
“Yeah, I’ve sensed their presence here too,” I muttered, then hesitated.
A strange reluctance gripped me until I shook off the unusual feeling with a twitch of my shoulders. The words felt as if I had to force them from my mouth. What was going on here? “There is another possible GMU.”
“Oh?” My father bored his eyes into mine as if he was peeling away my skin to probe inside my brain.
One tiny bead of sweat formed on my upper lip. Resisting the urge to squirm beneath that all-knowing, all-judging stare, I fought to keep my face impassive. “A chick called, Tara Ferguson.”
A girl not like any other I’d ever met.
There’d been something in her wide, brown eyes and the curve of her smile, that called to me, made me want to leap over that bar and scoop her into my arms. And that was scary. I definitely was not the ‘forever’ type. I was more the one-night stand type of guy on the rare occasions I sought out female company.
Pointless looking for anything more, when the next day I’d be on the move again. But I was always honest. No way did I want to leave some grieving chick behind.
But this one was different.
I could sense it.
Not that I intended to follow through on my interest. I’d play it cool, keep my distance, protect myself.
And hope like hell, she wasn’t my mark.
Chapter 3 – FRIENDSHIP
Tara
“I tell you, Em, it was the weirdest thing,” I said into my mobile. With a gentle nudge of my toe against the tree trunk, I set the hammock swinging lazily.
Through the tangle of branches and leaves above peeped twinkling stars. Still hot from the scorching day, the air sweet with the scent of dusty eucalypt and lemon, pressed in around me. But out here in the backyard, was at least three degrees cooler than my bedroom. The summer had been long and hot. Australia still baked in temperatures six degrees above average, even though the year had ticked past to mid April. Everyone spoke of nothing but the hope of rain to break one of the longest droughts in history.
“Uh huh.” A massive yawn sounded from the other end of the phone.
“You can’t sleep, this is important.”
“Sorry, it’s just that I’ve been cramming for a uni exam and I’m beat. I know it’s only early in the year but I need good grades to lift my overall grade.”
I repressed the surge of instant envy at the word ‘uni’ and muttered, “Yeah, well, I’ve got an exam on my plate too.”
“How’s the reading programme going?” Warm sympathy laced my friend’s words and my brief moment evaporated.
“Okay, I think. I’m mostly guessing and bluffing my way through it though. Nothing has changed. In fact, I think my problem is getting worse.” I quickly walked my friend through the episode (as I called it) I’d had earlier in the day at the college.
“And, then you saw that message later today?” squeaked Em in her high pitched voice. “This is so fascinating. Maybe there’s something in your Mum’s beliefs.”
“What are you,
like four? This isn’t a bedtime story, Em!”
“I know, but if your mum is right then we need to be prepared, too.”
I repressed a shudder at that repeated word ‘prepared’. Was the entire world trying to send me mad? “Please try and be sensible, Em.”
Too late.
My best friend was already off and running in a quickly voiced rattle of words that made my head ache until I had to interrupt.
“There’s no need to shout at me,” huffed Em. “I don’t really believe it but just in case. You know, like insurance. Dad says one must always be prepared and it’s better to be safe than sorry. And you can’t deny the media attention lately about mankind being poised on the brink of a new threshold.”
She sounded like she was quoting a prophet.
“I’m fairly sure they’re talking about some new computer chip that’s going to revolutionise all technology. You know; talking cars, computers, TV’s, hell probably even dish washers and toasters,” I quipped.
“Well, I intend to discuss it with my parents. I’ll come over on the weekend. Oh wait! Better yet, if you’re working at the pub on Friday night, I’ll meet you there for a drink or two before closing time.”
“All right.”
“I’ll text Marnie and see if she’ll come home. It’ll be fun for us all to be together again.”
Suddenly, life didn’t seem such a grind.
I felt lighter and grinned. “That sounds great. Thanks, Em. I’ll see you then.”
***
The next day dawned hot and still. After my six kilometre run in the morning, I headed off to another day of study feeling distinctly anxious.
This was it.
The final exam.
The one that could well determine the course of my future.
It was enough to make me want to throw up. My stomach quivered in a knot of nerves as if I’d spent the night on some dodgy carnival ride.
By the time I reached the community college, I could have done with another shower.
But my lecturer appeared to have caved in the face of the crushing heat inside the room after we'd completed the multiple-choice questionnaire. After mumbling a few instructions, he gave us an essay to write on any subject of our choice while he played on the internet with his laptop.
The abattoir man slumped in his chair, snored, head lolling to one side. The Sudenese boy scratched his name into the desk with a pocketknife. Gloria...Gloria actually looked as if she was writing something and the other students either dozed, played games on their laptops or listened to music on their iPods.
By using a piece of cardboard with a rectangle hole cut in the middle, which I placed over my paper so I could write one word at a time, I scribbled down a page on the value of chook poo as fertiliser. I’d found this method of writing stopped the words written on the lines above from jumbling up into a pile of scrabble letters.
That small effort though cost me dearly because by the time I finished my head throbbed so badly I thought my brain was going to ram its way out of my skull.
But I was happy with what I'd achieved. Surely the essay would help lift my grade?
I packed up and wearily made my way home. The streets were practically empty as I pedalled along. No doubt everyone was either cooling off at the pub or the local swimming pool or lolling in front of their air-conditioners.
I wished I could join them.
The heat bouncing off the tared road was so intense, I worried my tyres might burst. But I made it home without incident.
I spent the remainder of the afternoon working in our garden and it wasn't long before my headache vanished. Gardening always had this effect on me, easing away my worries and giving me a sense of satisfaction I didn’t find anywhere else. Using the shovel, I dug and heaved until the rambling pumpkin vine had been removed. I made several trips back and forth to the old tin shed where I laid the pumpkins on the roof to dry out.
I stepped back and admired my efforts. Pulling out a few stray weeds, I tossed them over onto a pile of rubbish and picked a handful of late peas to eat.
When my mobile pinged a message, I retrieved it from my pants pocket and slowly read the one line text from Em. Awesome. Looked like a girly weekend was on the cards.
“Tara!” called Mum from the back steps.
“Yeah, I’m finished.” I put away the garden tools inside the shed and locked the chooks up for the night. Wiping dirt from my hands I wandered toward the house, yawning and flexing my sore shoulders.
“Are you coming with us tonight?” Mum opened the back screen door and walked down the steps. She reached out and enfolded me in a hug that made my eyes sting. If only she could be like this all the time; normal, like everyone else.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I hugged her back, my chest swelling with a mixture of love and baffled resentment.
“The discipline of Martial Arts is a wonderful way of improving self-control. Now, I’ve laid out your uniform on your bed, so all you have to do is change your clothes.”
“Thanks, Mum.” I decided against commenting about her ‘self-control’ jibe and pulled away before running up the steps. “I need a shower first. I stink.”
“Be quick then or we’ll be late.”
“Hey guys, listen to this!” Dan popped his head out into the hallway and gestured us into the lounge room.
“What’s up, Dan? I need a bath.” I leaned against the wall and not bothering to cover my mouth, gave a mighty yawn that nearly cracked my jaw.
“Shush, Sis! Listen! It’s an emergency broadcast.” My brother fiddled with the remote and raised the volume.
I hugged my waist. My tiredness fell from me as horror mounted at the advice just to hand. A pharmaceutical facility in Germany had been bombed; timed with a suspicious explosion that had decimated a munitions factory in the US.
“It has begun,” said Mum, her eyes wide with fear.
Could Mum be right after all?
***
It didn’t take long to drive to the local community hall.
“Don’t you think we should stay home?” I asked as I climbed out of the car.
“I know this is dreadful news but we have such little time. You must continue your training.”
“Mum,” I groaned.
Shadows from the setting sun fell over my mother’s face. Suddenly, she looked older and I pushed back the snappy words I’d intended to spew, saying instead, “The new instructor starts tonight.”
Mum smiled. “I hope he’s a good teacher. Don’t bother to lock up, Daniel.”
“Yeah, as if anyone would want this old heap anyway!” I poked my brother in the ribs.
Dan tossed the keys in the air, and caught them from behind.
Smart arse. But his antics made both Mum and me smile. Although in reality he was too young to apply for his ‘L’ plates, Mum insisted he learn how to drive. I often polished my driving skills by taking the car out in the dead of night. By then, the only policeman this small town boasted was usually out for the count at his girlfriend’s house.
Mum tossed a ‘hurry up’ over her shoulders, tightened her yellow belt over her white gi and disappeared through the door. I rolled my eyes at my grinning brother before linking my arm in his. Together, we sauntered into the hall. The class had begun and at the front stood our new sensei.
I checked him out.
“He doesn’t look too bad, I guess. Look how short his hair is, Dan. It’s almost a number one.”
“Yeah, I bet he’s an ex-army guy or an ex-cop. He looks really fit. He will probably run us ragged, Sis. We had better get into our places quickly. I don’t feel like doing an extra twenty push-ups in this heat.” Dan whacked me on the shoulder.
Usually, I wouldn’t put up with his crap and would have challenged him to a scuffle. But tonight I didn’t have the energy.
I sighed and positioned myself in the fourth row and bowed. Mum, as usual, was in the front row. The ceiling fans spun at a rapid pace, doing little to relieve the he
at. All the fans seemed to do was blow hot air into my face. I looked longingly at the open windows, vaguely aware the new sensei was speaking. I fantasised I was sitting on golden sands with waves crashing near my feet. I brushed my fringe off my forehead and looked to the side, expecting to see Nick Tate, a boy the same age as my brother and who lived down the street from us.
But instead my startled gaze met the eyes of the stranger from the pub.
I nodded jerkily.
What was he doing here? Was he following me? A tingle of heat that had nothing to do with our Indian summer teased my skin.
He smirked as if he heard my thoughts. His mocking smile did little to warm his ice-grey eyes and he gave no indication he recognised me. He sure as hell, didn’t bother to return my mumbled ‘hello’.
Right. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was arrogance. This guy obviously had it by the bucket load.
Nose in the air and wishing I’d kept my mouth shut, I swung around to find everyone staring. At the front of the class, the sensei tapped the floor with his foot impatiently.
“Introduce yourself, Tara,” hissed Dan.
And if there was another thing I hated, it was people staring at me. Wanting to sink through the floor, I mumbled my name, my knees sagging with relief when that stern gaze passed onto someone else.
The lesson began and there was no time to think. The warm up exercises were more rigorous than any I’d done before and that was just the beginning.
Over and over the new sensei pushed us; testing our techniques, barking commands, and soon I wasn’t the only one red-faced and wheezing.
“This guy is a nightmare,” I said to my brother, wincing as I pressed my hand to the stitch in my side. What I wouldn’t give to lie down on the floor and not move for a week. Even Dan was puffing like a steam train. The new sensei certainly believed in making us work hard. “I feel like I’m at boot camp. I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow.”
Dan wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His elbow jabbed me in the ribs.
“Yeow, what was that for?”
“Jeez, Sis. Not so loud. I think the guy standing next to you is Alex, his son.”
Don't Look Back (Warders of Earth) Page 3
