“Yeah, it’s her.” Alex didn’t sound particularly pleased about whatever he’d found.
“You sound very certain.”
“I am.”
“Good. I’ll proceed with the mother.”
I heard movement and lifted my head. Bob Garroway had reached out and placed his right hand on the top of Alex’s head. He held it steady for a while. Removing his hand, he gave a satisfied grunt.
Weird.
But maybe this was all a horrible dream.
“You’re attracted to her. This will make your job easier.”
Who’s her?
Alex’s father shifted in his seat, the leather squeaked in warning. Quickly, I snapped my eyes shut and played possum. I was positive he’d turned around to stare at me.
Heart galloping, I didn’t dare move.
I had no idea why, but suddenly I was afraid.
***
Alex
Rattled more than I cared to admit, I pushed through the country hospital’s screen door and, head down against the wind, I stalked across the carpark.
What the fuck was this? I’ve never had this problem before. I thrust my shaking hands into my jeans pockets and frowned.
“Any sign of the Mundo Novis Force?” asked my father through the open driver’s side window as soon as I neared his car.
Not a ‘how is she?’ or for that matter a ‘how am I?’ An unfamiliar surge of resentment soured my mouth. It had always been like this, why should now be any different?
Setting my jaw, I reefed open the passenger door and slid inside.
“No, their trail has gone cold.” I turned and stared at the man I’d thought of as my father since I’d first opened my eyes in that laboratory so far from this land of heat and sun. There’d never been any warmth, any affection between us but there’d always been respect. And on his part, an expectancy that I’d hungered all my life to meet. I examined his expression before the interior light flicked off. As usual, the man was an enigma, implacable, ruthless and completely devoid of any feeling. I wondered whether I’ll ever measure up to being half as good.
“And yet all our intel indicated one of their major players operates out of this town.”
“We could be wrong.”
“That’s a negative. My sixth sense doesn’t lie.” My father’s voice was hard as rock.
“I’ll go over the intel later tonight and check if we’ve missed some fact.”
“Good. We need to know what we’re up against before our friends arrive. Work these people, Alex. Reach out by volunteering to lend them a hand cleaning up their town. You know it’s vital we show our friends that the people of Earth are worthy of life.”
He spoke like he harboured no doubts whatsoever about our so-called friends’ intentions with our planet.
I was more sceptical and never really bought into the lines we’d been fed. More than once, in those cold, lonely minutes between night and dawn I’d wondered whether they had another agenda. But I kept my niggling worry to myself. “I intended to do that anyway.”
I felt rather than saw the sharp look he speared at me. From the corner of my eye, I noticed his hand shift slightly on the steering wheel and I tensed, thinking he was about to place it on my head again.
But no, he merely drummed his fingers.
I twitched my shoulders, remembering how the contact had felt, like it seared through to my brain and tore out my thoughts and memories.
Being a genetically modified unit sure had its downside.
My father gave a satisfied grunt then turned his attention to starting the car. “I don’t have to remind you, Alex, it’s imperative we complete our mission. I cannot and will not tolerate anything less than success.”
Jaw tight, I mumbled, “I know what’s at stake. I won’t fail.”
The car pulled out onto the road while I stared out the side window, paying little attention to the destruction wrought by the storm.
‘Your job’.
It had always been about the job.
Always.
In all my life I’d never thought about or wanted anything different. But now?
My skin heated as I recalled the feel of Tara’s body as I’d carried her in my arms. The panic that had assailed me when I’d scrambled to reach her in time. Even now the memory caused a cold sweat to break out along my spine.
If I wasn’t a Warder, if I’d been born like a regular person, if the entire planet wasn’t under threat of total destruction, I could have a normal life.
Like any other guy.
My chest tightened painfully. I’d go to barbies, go to the footie, hang out with mates. I could say goodbye to fleeting, one-night stands. I could have a proper girlfriend.
And I know who I’d choose.
***
Tara
Sunday night at the pub was always quiet. And tonight was no exception with the majority of the towns people either still in shock mode or cleaning up after the storm.
Perched on the stool, my elbows resting on the bar, I poured another shot of scotch into my glass.
I shouldn’t be doing this, I should be out the doing what I could to help. But for the moment, my energy was as sapped as a century old light bulb.
“The world’s gone to hell,” mumbled the wizened old fellow slumped beside me. From beneath bristling white eyebrows, his bleary eyes lighted on the scotch bottle and he licked his lips.
“I’ll drink to that.” I poured him two fingers and watched him raise the glass with a shaking hand to his lips. “Here you go.”
I sculled my drink then followed it up with a chaser of beer I’d pulled from the taps. A pleasant buzz made me feel slightly lightheaded. I embraced it. Getting wasted had seemed like a fabulous idea when I’d finally been released from casualty over an hour ago.
Mum had arrived while I was completing the paperwork. She’d inspected my face then demanded to talk to the doctor. When I’d first seen her, I’d wanted nothing more than a motherly hug and the familiar scent of the lavender water she used, wrapping me in safety.
But she hadn’t turned up alone.
Bob Garroway had marched in with her issuing quiet requests in his ‘take charge’ voice that had people scurrying in all directions.
I’d felt like I was about three years old.
But at the time, I didn’t bother arguing.
Carefully I fingered my swollen jaw. The good news was I’d suffered no broken bones and had mercifully kept all my teeth. Always a plus. Bruising, a slash on my shin now bandaged and no longer bleeding, a massive headache and a face that looked as if I’d been in a boxing ring. I guess I’d been lucky, considering some of the other patients I’d seen in the clinic. The place had been overflowing with casualties.
I stared out the pub window. Outside the rain plummeted from the night sky, the streets looked like rivers of sluggishly moving mud. The wind had finally died down, as the destructive force of the storm had moved further north. With luck it would die out before it reached the next town.
At the other end of the room, Ray Watson, the owner of the pub was busy with a mob and bucket, cleaning up the water that had flooded the carpet when the window shattered. When I’d arrived, I’d asked for a drink and he’d told me to help myself. I knew he’d take it out of my next week’s wages. Although strictly speaking the pub wasn’t open for business. Ray had no problems with anyone who wandered inside looking for a drink provided they left the money on the bar. I poured another shot into my glass. Footsteps muffled by the thin carpet on the floor sounded behind me and I stiffened.
Before he spoke, I knew who it was.
Alex.
He leaned against the bar, his left arm brushing against mine.
Heat chased away the coldness in my stiff body. Frowning, I wriggled on the stool. I didn’t want the company.
“I see the SES has recruited you. I thought you had to undergo training before they’d take you on.” Lifting my glass I indicated the bright yellow-orange of h
is jumpsuit that all members of the SES wore.
“The mayor asked for volunteers. It’s pretty foul out there and with the fire brigade busy with the blaze at the abattoirs. I figured I could lend a hand.”
“Then, shouldn’t you be out there, being hero of the hour?” As soon as I said the words, shame swamped me.
“I was about to ask you the same question.” Alex grabbed the bottle and moved it out of my reach. “What have you got to be so sorry about? There are people with their homes reduced to rubble, your people, neighbours, friends. They’ve lost everything and yet you sit here sinking scotch.”
“I’m thinking, not that it’s any of your business.” And you and your father are top of my list. What were they up to?
“Now is not the time. You need to be seen working to help fix this mess.”
“What the ...?” I slammed the glass onto the counter and glared.
Alex lifted his hands. “Hey, don’t shoot me. I came into the pub looking to use the loo and spotted you at the bar. If you want to wallow, not my problem. But we could use another pair of hands. Or you could stay here enjoying your pity party.”
Shoulders stiff, he turned and marched out the door leaving me gaping after him.
My glance tangled with the old timer’s rheumy eyes. There was such weariness in his expression it gave me pause. I bet this fella had to deal with a lot worse than a storm in his life.
My childish resentment at Alex’s interference faded.
I poured one last shot but this time, handed the glass over to the old guy. After capping the bottle and stashing it behind the bar, I wiped my sticky hands on a damp tea-towel.
Snatching up my jacket, I shrugged it on as I walked outside.
Alex was right, but I’d never tell him.
I kept to the footpath, sidestepping debris and at times climbing over fallen trees. By following the glow of light in the distance, I made my way through the dark to where the SES had set up a temporary base.
Power lines were down, some snaking across the road and others buried under debris. Remarkably there were buildings standing with barely a mark on them and others reduced to tangled piles of timber, brick and tile.
The energy workers had already swung into action and set up temporary lighting run by generators. In their orange suits they hung from power poles and scrambled about below with ladders and tools.
The townspeople were out in full force, sweeping mud, hauling rubbish into trailers, clinging to roofs hauling tarpaulins over gaping holes. Others huddled in small groups, talking and gesturing toward the damage surrounding them.
After I registered my name with the task force manning a white tent, I was given a dolphin torch and despatched to help clear rubble off the road so emergency vehicles would have access into the worst hit areas. Hurrying off, I passed the remains of the huge, ancient Morton Bay fig tree, now lying on its side, broken and dying. Half of the massive tree spread across the road blocking it and the other half rested in the middle of what used to be the council chambers.
The Mayor gestured angrily to three men in overalls who stood, hands in pockets, staring at the damage.
A pang of loss hit me. That tree had stood proudly spreading its shady branches across the sky for over one hundred years. Rather than destroy this memory of the past, the town had been built around it.
Now in a matter of minutes, it was gone.
Chapter 8 – MISSING
“I can’t believe she’s gone! And without saying goodbye to me,” wailed Em snivelling into her sodden tissue.
A full thirty-two hours had passed since the tornado had pummelled the town. And I was effing exhausted having worked throughout most of the previous night and all day, assisting the SES.
The last thing I wanted was to deal with more problems. But I could never let Em down.
So now I sat on my friend’s double bed with its pale pink bedspread and gauzy white netting hanging from the canopy, in her pretty pink and white bedroom and wondering whether I’d been sucked into a sadist’s twisted dream.
How could she stand sleeping in such a fussy room? If it were my room, I’d suffocate.
I shifted position on the soft mattress, grimacing as I sank deeper and watched two fat tears roll down my friend’s cheeks.
In the dim flickering light provided by the candles, Em’s eyes were swollen and puffy. The moon peeped through the lace curtains, slender beams that lit up the room briefly before being swallowed by heavy clouds.
It was still raining.
The drops trickled slowly down the glass windowpane. From elsewhere in the house, came the distinct sound of rain thunking into buckets.
A lot of tiles had blown off the roof and the rafters above the billiard room had shattered. The SES had covered the hole with a tarp but rain still found its way through the damage.
“Yeah, it sucks,” I mumbled.
Truth to tell, I was almost as bewildered as Em.
But what could I say?
What do you say to your best friend when her mother disappears into the night with no explanation?
No note.
No phone call.
The landlines were still down, but she could have called Em on the mobile.
But there’d been nothing. What could have happened to her?
Then there was the weird behaviour of Em’s father who apparently had appeared briefly at breakfast and then left the house. He’d evinced no comment, no outrage, no concern about the disappearance of his wife and beyond a few curt sentences had little to say about the matter.
Em had told me that she’d first thought he’d gone out to help the SES crews but no one had seen him. There’d been no sight of his Toyota four-wheel drive anywhere around town.
I knew this for a fact, because I’d kept an eye out all day after Em’s frantic text around breakfast time.
Shifting again on the mattress, I clenched my jaw then quickly relaxed it as pain shot up the side of my face. I checked my teeth again.
Just in case. Nope, all good.
As well as performing the assigned SES duties, Dan and I had to fix the damage to our home. We’d boarded up the lounge room window with timber after what looked like half a small tree had speared through it. Mum had spent the morning donating blood and helping where she could at the clinic. Then we’d all trooped to the elderly couple’s home next door and did what they could to help with the damage to their roof and the mess inside their home.
After a hurried sandwich, I’d left Mum cleaning out the leaves, rubbish and mud for our neighbours that had poured through the broken glass. Dan had been picked up earlier by Alex in his father’s ute and they’d taken off somewhere on a SES task.
It was only now, well into the night that I’d been able to check up on my friends. I frowned. There’d been no answer to my insistent pounding on Marnie’s front door. Although I could have sworn I heard someone moving about inside. After standing back and surveying the front of Marnie’s grandmother’s house, I’d given up then pedalled madly to Em’s home.
Em was still pretty distraught and who could blame her?
Given the circumstances, I decided now was not the best time to mention I couldn’t contact Marnie.
For about the hundredth time, I suggested, “Perhaps there was a family emergency and your mum was called away?”
“If there were, Dad would have told me. Oh Tara, what if something awful has happened?”
“I’m sure she’s fine. Didn’t you tell me that your father refused to inform the police? If that’s the case then he must believe that she’s fine.”
Em hunted wildly for the tissue box. She plucked out the last tissue and blew her nose. “They’ve been fighting such a lot in the last six months. You know, really yelling and screaming at each other. You don’t know how horrible it’s been. Every time I come home from campus I can’t wait to leave again.”
I scooted across the bed and wrapped my arms around her. Tears slid down her cheeks as Em sobbed.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Em. I didn’t realise you were having problems.”
“That’s okay.” Em raised her head and gave a watery smile. “How could you have known? I kept it to myself, hoping it would all go away. I wanted us to a happy family. I pretended to everyone that we were a happy family. But it’s always been like this, the arguing and cold silences, at least as long as I’ve known them.”
What on earth was she talking about? “I don’t understand.”
Em took an audible deep breath. “I was adopted when I was ten years old. My real parents were killed in a car accident when I was very young. I can’t remember about it. I can’t remember their faces, the sound of the voices. Nothing. I wanted to be like everyone else and that’s why I never told you.”
Marnie and Mum were right. Sometimes things and people were not the way they seemed. I studied my friend as if seeing her for the first time. There was a lost, haunted expression in her blue eyes I’d never seen before and I wondered why no one was looking out for her.
“Where’s your Dad, I mean Mr Andrews?”
Em sniffled into her tissue. “I have no idea. He drove off a few hours ago. I thought he might have gone to the office to clear up the damage, but he should have been back by now.”
I made a snap decision. “Pack your bags.” I scrambled off the bed and groped my way to the large white-panelled wardrobes lining the opposite wall, flinging the doors wide. There was no way I was going to let her stay here in this house a moment longer.
“You’re coming to stay with us.” I snapped my fingers when Em continued to gawk at me. “Where’s your mobile? I’ll ring Dan and ask him to pick us up.” I turned around and rummaged inside the wardrobe and hauled her suitcases onto the thick soft carpet.
“But what if your mother won’t let me stay?”
“As if! You know Mum likes you and trust me, there is no way she will let you stay here after I tell her what has been going on,” I paused. “That is, of course, if you don’t mind her knowing?”
Em smiled tremulously. “I don’t mind. But I’d hate for this to be spread around town.”
“Mmm. I see your point.” I thought about it for a second then rolled my eyes. “Mum will probably tell Bob – she seems to tell him everything else these days. He’ll probably tell you-know-who. But I know Mum won’t mention it to anyone else. And then, of course there’s my brother. Will that be okay?”
Don't Look Back (Warders of Earth) Page 10
