by Leo Nix
Nulla had very little in the way of first-aid beside the single bandage they each carried in their slim back packs. He found some aspirin but knew Glenda would need more than that for such a bad injury. The big fear was always inflammation and blood poisoning, it could kill her.
His mother was their tribal healer and he remembered how all the sick people of the tribe would go to her. Recalling how she used caster oil for everything from boils, cuts and belly ache to blocked bowels, he found a full bottle in the bathroom. Not sure how to use it he just poured it on the bandage and hoped it would do its magic, just as his mother had done.
Loud voices and whistles came from up the street, it was frightening to think they could easily catch him with his proverbial pants down now. As long as they didn't come near, he knew they were safe. The hours passed with a lot of vehicle traffic and more foot patrols. There came a growing roar of voices as the terrorists gathered at the battle scene. By now it was well after sunrise.
Nearly a thousand troops from Army C and D had converged on the intersection, the scene of the clash between the two terrorist armies. The territorial dispute had raced out of control and now the leaders from both sides met to establish their boundaries.
Nulla watched from the upstairs window as the leaders sat on stools right on the intersection. Through his binoculars he saw four bound terrorists brought to stand in front of the massed troops.
One of the leaders stood, waved his arms about and gesticulated wildly. Nulla guessed what might be coming next and continued to watch. The Army C leader called out a broad chested man who carried a sword that looked like King Arthur's broadsword, Excalibur.
The prisoners were kicked to the ground and their heads pushed forwards. The executioner stepped forward, and after everyone had bowed their heads in prayer, he proceeded to chop the first two heads off.
The third victim proved a bit more difficult than the first two. It took the strong man three swings before he managed to hack his head so that it too fell to the ground. The last victim refused to cooperate and Nulla watched as the leader ordered a soldier to grab the man and hold him still.
`This is going to get ugly,' thought Nulla.
The victim wouldn't squat down but the enforcer threw him roughly to the ground and pushed his head forward. The executioner stepped back and forth as he readied his sword but had to pull up several times to avoid hitting the enforcer.
The cavalryman zoomed in and watched as the leader gesticulated wildly, his hands flailing the air. In frustration the swordsman swung his sword with enormous force at the struggling victim. To Nulla's horror and amusement the enforcer's head and the victims arm both flopped to the ground. The enforcer's body twitched in his binoculars field of view and he fought not to pull his eyes away. The ex-gangland hit man didn't want to miss this.
The toughened cavalryman watched bemused as he saw the terrorist soldiers rise up in an uproar, waving their arms and weapons in the air. The Revelationist executioner appeared extremely agitated and began hacking at the forth victim who was now trying to stand up. He continued to swing his huge sword until the victim's head finally parted company from his shoulders and rolled towards the crowd. One man kicked it causing a mass of terrorists to leap forward kicking at the severed heads like it was a children's soccer match.
Struggling to keep from laughing, Nulla stayed long enough to watch the terrorist armies paint a line on the intersection to show the boundary, then they dispersed. He breathed a deep sigh knowing that they wouldn't be doing a house search.
He heard a noise from the room Glenda was asleep in and came down the stairs, calling out softly to her. She was awake and called his name in reply. He went into the room where she was sitting with a blanket over her slim figure. One leg was covered by the blanket while she sat examining the other. His breath caught when he saw her, and he felt a fire brand lance through his chest.
Glenda looked up at Nulla with relief and smiled wanly. “Where have you been? I was worried you'd left me alone.” His heart melted when he saw the lost look in her eyes.
He coughed nervously. “I just witnessed the official `drawing of the boundary' ceremony. They won't bother looking for us, they don't know they've spies right in their midst. It was a boundary conflict between the two armies, and it looks like things are back to normal. Except your leg.” He pointed at her bandage, conscious that his finger wanted to reach out and touch her.
He jerked up his hand and spoke, “That might be an arterial bleed, so you're staying in that bed for a week before I even think about moving you.”
Glenda pouted. “Everything's been going so well too, Nulla. I feel such a loser. Our longest patrol into enemy territory and I go and cut my leg.” She looked up at him and grimaced, “At least I don't have to do guard duty for a week.”
“Don't you bet on it.” He smiled, his perfect teeth shining in the gloom of the darkened room. Glenda felt a little light-headed herself, so she closed her eyes before she blushed and gave her thoughts away.
Nulla spent some time looking for books and anything else to entertain his invalid patient. He then set up one of the beds in the upstairs loft so she could sleep there in greater safety. It took a few hours of careful, quiet maneuvering, but it was done before nightfall. He also found some food on a shelf high up in the pantry with tins of food and packets of dried fruits and nuts. There was even a block of chocolate and a bottle of red wine. How the terrorist's missed that he couldn't imagine.
That evening he set up booby traps at both entry doors. He warned Glenda to be careful if she had to leave the house. Kneeling beside her he told her that he was heading back to their base to plan her rescue. Glenda covered her face with her hands and cried, then begged him to be careful. His heart broke to see her like this but he had no choice.
Nulla bent forward and kissed her on the forehead but as he tried to move back she grasped his shirt and pulled his face to hers. She held him, and in that too-short moment he realised how he'd never experienced such a soft, sensual kiss like this before. Gasping in shock and confusion he pulled away, the taste of her tear-tipped lips locked into his mind.
Staggering back a few paces Nulla mumbled, “I'm, I'm sorry I, I… I better go. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can… I… I…” He fled down the stairs and out the back door. He'd stepped outside dodging the booby traps all in a state of total unconsciousness.
`Oh shit, what am I going to do?' Nulla said to himself. He stopped, rebuilt his `mind palace' of calm, and pulled himself together. Dragging his night vision goggles into place he set his backpack and tightened the straps. His eyes hardened as he focused on getting back to his troopers safely.
There was no moon and it was pitch black. A few blocks before he arrived at their safe house, a patrol drove around a bend and the headlights lit him up. His face snapped towards the light, with cat-like reflexes he melted into the bushes as it drove past.
`What am I thinking? Get your mind out of your pants, Nulla, and think survival!' he said to himself. He was angry for thinking thoughts more suited to a stroll in the park on a summer's day. The truck stopped with a squelch of its brakes not ten metres past his position.
`They must've seen me!' he realised. The truck crashed its gears and started to back up.
“Damn!” he said softly. In a split second he was thinking of the best course of action: kill them all right here, right now, or evade capture. Killing them would bring the entire Army C onto both safe houses and Glenda would be captured for certain. Maybe they'll think they saw a possum or a stray dog? Yes, his best choice was to fade into the background. He turned and quickly scanned the front yard of the house he stood next to. `Just good enough.' he thought and scampered off into the bushes at the side of the house.
He stopped and listened, curious to know what the patrol would do. There was yelling coming from beside the truck, so he listened carefully.
“When I give an order I want you to damn well follow it! I told you to stop! You j
ust don't ever listen do you!” The voice grew louder turning into an enraged roar.
A frightened female voice replied, “Sir, I stopped when you told me. I didn't see anything sir, but I did stop, sir.”
The first voice continued, his shouts rising higher in pitch. “Bend down and touch your toes!” Then Nulla heard a slap followed by a squeal. It seemed to go on and on. The squeal turned into a sob and then a mix of sobs and screams.
The girl wailed for mercy, “I'm sorry Captain McCarthy. I'm so sorry. I promise I won't disobey you ever again, please stop.”
Captain McCarthy's voice grew hoarse as he said, “You know what you need to do to make it up?” There was a pause, “You'd better be quick with it then.”
Nulla crept away from the disturbing sounds and found his way back to the safe house. With his mind a mass of confused thoughts he almost stepped on one of the boys booby traps. He stopped immediately when he heard a rapid `click click'.
“Boss! Stop! Booby trap in front of you, don't move!” came the firm, whispered order.
Simon stepped from out of the bushes and walked over to Nulla. Also wearing his night vision goggles, he guided Nulla around the traps to the back door, and inside the safe house.
Luke hadn't been able to sleep that first night and he called to Simon in the bed next to him. They both had the same idea and went straight back to the safe house to wait it out. If the terrorists came for them then it was tough luck, they'd fight it out to the death if need be. It was important for them to be there for their friends when they got back, if they got back.
Having now been awake for forty eight hours Nulla collapsed into the lounge chair. He briefly explained the situation as the boys handed him a hot cup of tea. As he was talking he closed his eyes and fell asleep in the middle of his sentence. The cup slipped from his fingers and fell onto the carpet. It happened so suddenly that the boys worried something was wrong. They checked his body for wounds and when satisfied that he was just exhausted, they pulled a blanket over his shoulders and left him. They resumed their guard duty. There was no way they would let their hero down.
Chapter 12 - Charlene - Back to Uni
The dwellers eventually dispersed back to their own homes once they realised that Stacy and Abraham had disappeared, most possibly in the gas explosion. Charlene felt useless, she had nothing to offer her beloved dweller friends, so decided to get back to her psychology studies. But she worried, `how can I collect a bundle of text books and journals to continue my studies when we live so far from the university?' she asked herself.
Charlene spoke to Heidi who was all for a visit to the university but knew the logistics of getting there were prohibitive. Rule number one was not to even think about using a vehicle. Terrorists still patrolled the streets. If captured the dwellers knew they would be tortured and would divulge the whereabouts of everybody they loved and cared for.
Tony was visiting for the day with Lucy and Annie. The boys suggested they use their motor bikes. Heidi argued that the problem was the same, noise and visibility. Patrols had dropped off but they were out and about every day and night. She reminded them there were road blocks and hidden listening posts still out on the streets. Heidi reiterated that `risk' meant not just risk to themselves, but a risk to everyone.
That was the end of the argument, no one ever won an argument with Heidi.
Arthur said that he could ride there in his BMX bike. “Chas, what if I go and bring back some books for you. You know, criminal psychology and those other books you wanted from the library?”
“Arty, that's sweet of you, but I need very specific forensic psychology books and journals. I need to do some special in-depth research, to find out exactly what makes a terrorist tick. Freud said that if you know what motivates someone then you can predict what they'll do next. I need to spend a week or more there. It'll mean a sleepover to explore the library properly. Then I need to bring a lot of those books back here,” was Charlene's polite response. “I know you mean well but you'll get lost inside the library. In fact, you might not even find the library once you get there.”
“Hey, what about a double?” chimed in Lucy. “I know you can't ride with your crook shoulder, but Arty could double you on his bike.”
“Hey yeah, or you could ride in the trolley Phil made.” Arthur perked up and his eyes suddenly brightened. “A trail bike would still be my choice. I could get you there and back in a day.”
“No! No motor bikes, Arthur! You know the rules. What if you get ambushed or there's a chase? Are you going to put Chas' life on the line for a joy ride?” Heidi wouldn't let up on issues of dweller security. She went quiet for a moment then spoke up forcefully.
“OK, listen-up because this is what we're going to do. We go as a group, the three of us; Arty, Chas and myself. We'll have to let Phil and Fati know, so they don't worry about us missing at the next market day.” Heidi stopped talking and looked around at the faces.
Charlene started to believe that Heidi's idea might actually happen. “So we go? How will we get there? It's miles away and we'll need food and water…” Just as she felt positive she drifted back into a depression thinking of just how enormous a task it was.
“We use two BMX's. We'll adapt the trolley Phil made to carry food and water for you, Charlene. It can be done, besides, I'll make it work.” Once Heidi made up her mind she always followed it up with action - it had become her trademark. Phil sometimes called her `Action Heidi'.
A few evenings later, Heidi and Arthur met with the dwellers inside the supermarket. The particular location, inside or outside, changed regularly, and the security whistle Heidi insisted upon, had evolved into clicks mixed with whistles. She hadn't neglected her own studies either and read everything she could get her hands on about military tactics and SAS reconnaissance strategies.
Phil wanted to go with her since he knew the university like the back of his hand, but his wife immediately ruled against it. He was still convalescing and his knee remained swollen and bruised. There was no way she would let him travel across the city on a bike, sleeping in strange houses, and leaving her alone. So he promised to give Heidi a hand-drawn map of the university, and a list of books he wanted her to bring back. He showed her where his office was, and asked if she would bring back the photos on his desk.
They planned to leave in seven days. Arthur was chief scout and would reconnoitre their routes. Tony volunteered to go with Arthur and support him. Heidi had already begun planning the houses they would stay at on their way in, and a separate route back. If all went well it should go off without a hitch.
They were all excited and afraid at the same time. This was going to be like a holiday for the three of them. Charlene had worked hard at copying extra maps and plans from Phil's drawings. She knew the university well enough herself, but she didn't know all the entrances and exits like Phil did. It was important to know from which direction to approach the library in case the capmus was occupied. The last thing they wanted was to travel right across the city, only to find they couldn't get in because the terrorists had occupied part of the campus.
Arthur worked steadily with Phil over the next several days and nights, pulling down and then rebuilding the two BMX bikes. Phil had already built several trolleys that could be towed by hand and bicycle, but this was a special unit for towing Charlene. Phil took great pride in his work and the trolleys performed superbly in their trial runs.
“Why didn't we think of this before, Arty? I must be getting old,” said the careworn old man. Arthur was too polite to agree and just smiled as he watched at the meticulous way Phil pulled his BMX wheel bearings out. He packed them in grease and then put them back in. Arthur had never learned a thing from his step-father, so this was all new to him.
Dweller life had become so predictable that anything new was like fresh air to Arthur now. He always asked if he could help and Phil was more than happy to show him how to use his collection of tools at every opportunity.
By Fr
iday they were ready. Heidi had packed enough food that if they were holed up, for any reason, they could survive at least a week. She was meticulous in her planning right down to the clothes they would wear to, from, and inside the university.
They decided against bringing sleeping bags and the plan was to take what bedding they could find in the last house they slept in, right next to the university. If they found the place free of terrorists they would sleep in the library itself, right next to the books Charlene needed. If that was impractical they would create a safe house nearby.
Charlene was excited but she was also very afraid. Even though Arthur and Tony had reconnoitred the route she was filled with dread at the thought of being caught again. Her post traumatic stress flared and she couldn't sleep, she was restless and irritable. The strategies she developed to help her overcome the traumas in the past few months however, helped her remain fixed on her goal. She pushed through her fears and stuck with the plan.
Knowing that travel would be slow, towing the two loaded trolleys, the three adventurers headed off a few hours after sunset. Arthur's specially modified BMX now sported a trolley with a seat for Charlene and loaded with gear. They were all very skinny and Arthur had little difficulty with her extra weight. Heidi brought up the rear with the BMX pulling another trolley loaded with food and water. It carried more weight than Arthur's and could double up as Charlene's trailer if anything happened to his.
That first night was uneventful. It was hot and humid in what was turning out to be an unusually wet summer in Adelaide. There had been so few patrol sightings that sometimes the dwellers wondered if the Revelationists had given up and gone home. But they knew better than to let their guard down.
