Flight of the Fantail

by Steph Matuku

  Peter gave a strangled laugh. ‘Uncle. I can’t go anywhere. I told you, there’s this guy who owns a club. He’s expecting me now, actually.’

  ‘You see, this is what I mean,’ Griff said, with as much patience as he could muster, although it was everything he could do not to pick up the kid and heave him out the window.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Instead of dodging responsibility, you should be stepping up. Asking questions like, “What security operations?” Or, “What’s Zone 12?”’

  Peter glowered at Griff. Griff glowered back. Peter dropped his gaze. Griff continued.

  ‘Zone 12 is a tiny sector of the larger western area. It borders the government land where those kids were camping. Zone 12 has been earmarked for mining. We’re talking millions upon millions of dollars.’

  At the mention of money, Peter raised his head, eyes alight, and Griff inwardly smiled. The kid was a Seddon, all right.

  ‘Hence the problem. We can’t have just anyone walking in on our exploration activity, d’you understand? It’s dangerous. Highly volatile materials and suchlike. We don’t want disoriented kids wandering around. We can’t have grieving family members and enthusiastic searchers poking into things. And we don’t want anyone spying on our commercial interests.’

  ‘Spies?’

  ‘Business competitors. Foreign investors. The government.’

  Realisation illuminated Peter’s face. ‘Oh. So that’s why you guys have taken over. I didn’t think it was because you were being nice about it.’

  ‘No. Nice is not what we’re about.’

  Griff got to his feet and stared pointedly at Peter until he did the same. Together, they walked to the office door.

  ‘The situation in Zone 12 has … escalated. I need people on the ground I can trust. That’s why I want you on my security team. You’ll be helping to keep Zone 12 safe. I’ll be expecting regular reports, and I want to know everything. Every. Little. Thing.’

  ‘So, you trust me, but you don’t like me.’ Peter gave a half smile. ‘I s’pose I can work with that.’

  It gave Griff great pleasure to push Peter through the door and close it firmly in his face.

  ‘To be fair, Peter,’ he muttered as he poured himself another glass of bourbon, ‘I don’t particularly trust you either.’

  He sat in the leather recliner and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, he began dreaming of the girl. It was the dream he’d been having for the past five nights and the reason why he was getting hardly any sleep.

  He was terrified.

  49

  The domed semicircle jutted from a gash in the cliff face, casting a huge black shadow across the landscape. The earth shook. She stood on the other side of the river, unable to move as the inky stain spread towards her. The metal hull of the alien ship shuddered as it slowly inched its way out of the earth and rock that had held it for so long. As the shadow crept across the river, the water steamed and bubbled. The black was close now, and she couldn’t move, and as she opened her mouth to scream, she realised she already was screaming, and Devin was at her side, trying frantically to calm her.

  ‘Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s just a dream, just a dream.’

  The soothing words lapped over her, and Eva clutched at them, dragging herself out of her nightmare.

  Devin looked at her closely. ‘Better?’

  Eva ground her fists into her eyes, trying to erase the pictures she’d seen.

  ‘I haven’t had nightmares since I was a little kid, and now it’s like every time I close my eyes I see it, that … thing, tearing itself loose. And we’re all going to die.’ She shuddered. ‘I know it’s a dream, but I can’t get out of it, I can’t wake up.’

  ‘I had nightmares when my mum died,’ Devin said. ‘Still do, if I get too hot.’

  Out of consideration for Rocky, the girls were speaking quietly, although Eva was pretty sure he was awake. He lay on his side, facing the rocky cave wall.

  ‘Where’s Jahmin?’

  ‘Haven’t seen him yet. He doesn’t like coming down here. Says it makes him feel strange.’

  ‘At least he’s feeling something.’ Eva threw back the suffocating warmth of her sleeping bag and peeled her T-shirt and shorts away from her sweat-soaked skin. ‘Ugh. I gotta go pee.’

  She stepped onto the slab of rock under the hole in the roof and hoisted herself out by her elbows, grunting a little with the effort.

  Jahmin had found the sinkhole the day before. He’d almost fallen into it while chasing a pheasant. The bird had neatly dodged it, and Jahmin had only noticed it at the last moment – a yawning black hole partially concealed by ferns, with branches hanging low overhead.

  It turned out to be an ideal place to camp. The hole in the ground opened up into an underground cavern, almost completely round, formed by erosion over centuries. On the far side lay the huge bones of an ancient moa that had fallen in and been unable to get out. Rocky referred to it irreverently as Big Bird, but Eva was in awe of it. Those massive birds had always seemed more like myth than fact to her, and here one was, just lying there. It was like finding the remains of a dragon. Still, after everything that had happened, Eva reflected, a few old bones shouldn’t faze her.

  It was a little chilly, and she was reminded that summer wouldn’t last forever. What would they do if they were stuck in the bush through winter? They had to come to a decision soon. They couldn’t stay here forever.

  She slipped behind the bushes, lowered her pants and crouched. She almost had the hang of it, peeing without getting it all over her feet and clothes, but a few random drops managed to get onto her undies, and she tutted impatiently as she yanked them up. She didn’t want to have to deal with a rashy minge on top of everything else.

  Doing her business outside was just another thing she’d be glad to leave behind. Pooing was gross, burying it all like a cat. And her period was due in a couple of weeks. Eva wasn’t looking forward to that at all. Thanks to Jahmin stealing all that stuff from Idelle, she and Devin had a small supply of tampons and pads, but what would happen when those ran out? They’d have to use strips of cloth, like in the olden days, rinse them in the river and hang them over branches to dry. Bloody men, she thought, stepping out from behind the bushes. Always got it so good.

  A branch cracked and she whipped around, expecting to see Jahmin, but there was nothing there except the gentle sway of trees and the ferns in the early morning breeze.

  She peered into the shadows. ‘Hallo?’ she called. ‘You’d better not be spying on me, Jahmin. Nobody likes a nosy zombie.’

  There was no reply. A shiver went down her spine. Someone was there, she could feel it.

  She darted back to the sinkhole, like a frightened kid scampering back to bed from the bathroom in the middle of the night.

  She was about to slide down into the hole when she heard Rocky, his voice muffled and strange, echoing off the rock and the ferns.

  ‘We have to get out of here. We can’t just put it off. They might find us.’

  Devin’s voice, hesitant. ‘But what about Jahmin? If he gets too far from the ship he might …’

  There was silence, and then came the cold reply. ‘He’s already dead. But we’re not. We have to save ourselves.’

  A seething rage swept over Eva, but just as she was about to dive into the hole and have it out with Mr Dickhead Goody Two Shoes Bastard Asshole, a cold hand landed on her shoulder.

  Jahmin had heard everything.

  50

  The voices in Awhina Thomas’s head grew louder the closer she got.

  ‘Closer to what?’ she mused, and like an echo the response came, indistinct but becoming sharper with every step, like an old radio tuning in to a station. Closer to home.

  The voices didn’t alarm her. Awhina’s auntie talked to spirits and her toddler cousin often had long, convoluted conversations with thin air. Her grandmother still used tohu, signs from nature, to make meaning of her life and to give her g
uidance, and another cousin used to hear voices until he was diagnosed with schizophrenia and given a cocktail of medication to make them stop. Her family thought that was pretty extreme – they were only voices after all – but times had changed, and now hearing voices wasn’t a sign of spirituality, it was a sign of mental illness.

  Awhina didn’t know what was happening to her, and she didn’t care. What she did know was that the voices had chosen her to help them. They needed her. They’d helped her survive when others had died.

  So she did what they said. Right from the beginning, right from when she’d opened her eyes after the bus crash. She’d helped Liam to die. She hadn’t wanted to, but it had been necessary. They’d shown her why. That’s how Awhina knew they weren’t spirits. They were something else entirely.

  Long black hair snarled and tangled, blue paisley tunic torn, bare feet scratched and muddy, she slipped through petals of sunshine fluttering down through the tree ferns.

  A muffled scream.

  Awhina stopped dead, her heart hammering. She darted behind a tree and scanned the bush for movement. There was nothing. She waited for the voices to tell her what to do, but they were silent.

  Another scream. It was coming from somewhere below her. Awhina dropped to her knees and patted the ground, stroked it, tried to soothe it. The scream became heartbreaking, piteous sobs that faded to nothing. Was Papatūānuku, the Earth Mother, talking to her too?

  The voices in her head told her to hide, someone was coming.

  Awhina sank down into the ferns. Waited.

  51

  Devin and Rocky sat on one side of the campfire, Jahmin and Eva on the other. It was so quiet the crackle of the fire sounded like fireworks. Every now and then Rocky cast a sidelong look at Devin, but she kept her gaze fixed on the grass between her feet. Eva raised her eyebrows at Jahmin who shook his head. No. Eva ignored him.

  ‘So, who here has a problem with Jahmin being dead?’

  Jahmin closed his eyes. ‘Shut it, Evs.’

  ‘No, I won’t bloody shut it!’ She turned to Rocky. ‘We heard you whispering. Telling nasty little secrets to each other. So, come on, out with it. We’re all dying to know what you really think.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that …’ Devin faltered.

  ‘Really? I disagree. I think it was exactly like that.’

  ‘Don’t have a go at her, she’s not the only one.’ Rocky flicked a glance at Jahmin, his expression mutinous. ‘Sorry, mate.’

  ‘Mate!’ cried Eva. ‘Some mate. Thinking Jahmin’s, what, a freak of nature or something?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ said Rocky sarcastically. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘He can’t help it! You wouldn’t be an asshole about him if he was mentally ill or whatever.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with it?’

  ‘Or maybe you would, only you’d do it behind his back because you’re a creepy, little backstabber.’

  ‘We weren’t backstabbing!’ Devin cried. ‘We were just talking.’

  ‘Talking shit about someone behind their back is backstabbing, Devin,’ said Eva coldly. ‘But I know you’re not exactly well up on the niceties of social interaction.’

  ‘Because going around spying on people and listening to their private conversations is so awesomely nice,’ Rocky spat.

  ‘Oh, so it’s my fault you’re a heartless, nasty piece of shit?’

  ‘No, it’s your fault you’re a stupid bitch!’

  Eva and Rocky were standing now, barely a foot apart, yelling in each other’s faces.

  Jahmin leapt up and pushed between them. ‘Stop it!’

  A shaft of sunlight pierced the canopy and lit up Jahmin’s face, his skin unnaturally pale. Eva, red-faced and angry, shook off Jahmin’s hand and flounced off to the other side of the clearing. Rocky, breathing heavily and scowling, sat down with a thump next to Devin, who hid her face in her hands.

  ‘I know what I am,’ said Jahmin.

  Eva opened her mouth to speak, but Jahmin raised his voice and continued. ‘Rocky’s right, Evs. I’m dead. I don’t have any right to be here. I don’t enjoy any of the things that make living worthwhile. Food, sleep, pain, they’re all just words now. You don’t know how much you miss breathing until you don’t have to do it. And I didn’t know before … I didn’t know how your heart determines the rhythm of your day. That little internal drumbeat. It’s gone. It’s all gone.’

  Eva again opened her mouth to speak, and he impatiently held up a hand.

  ‘Yes, I’m dead. And I don’t mind being fully dead. This half-life just isn’t enough. But if you guys are going to get home at all, we need to know what Seddon’s up to. They could be anywhere. And now they know Idelle saw that thing, they’re bound to think she might not be the only one. If you guys can just wait for a couple of days; hide out here where it’s safe. I want to go back and try and find out what’s going on. My dad works for Seddon, everything we have is because of Seddon. And Idelle was murdered.’

  He looked at each of them in turn, a small smile on his lips. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask. But in two days we can all go home together. Cos if I’m going to die properly, it would be nice to have mates around.’

  There was silence. It lasted a long time. And then Eva burst into tears.

  52

  Peter Proctor’s crotch was itchy. He grabbed at the stiff material of his new combat pants and tugged, kicking out one blistered foot in an attempt to give his balls a little space. He wished he could have worn his gear in a bit, but there had been no time for that. Within two seconds of entering the Seddon Tower basement, Moses had chucked him a heavy backpack and told him to get changed.

  The uniform was kind of cool; black and sleek and made from some kind of special polymer that repelled water and radioactive waves, or some shit, but it was a good deal more snug than what he was used to. They’d cut his hair too, right down to a soft stubble. At first he’d thought it was some kind of sick revenge on his uncle’s part, but then they’d slapped a close-fitting helmet on his head, and he realised the cut was for comfort more than anything else. Didn’t stop him from complaining about it, though.

  When the other security guys had seen his bright and shiny boots with not so much as a crease on them, they’d all smirked a bit, and one of them had made a point of stretching out his foot, encased in scarred, well-worn leather that Peter could tell would be comfortably capable of foxtrotting the length of all the Zones put together.

  Not that Peter was convinced they were just security guards. He’d spent most of his post-school life working various gigs and clubs, and he could tell a bouncer from a mile off. But these guys – they were different. A little wary around the eyes, with muscles that were lean from hard work as opposed to the gym, and just a bit too quick to react to every sound. And every now and then, he’d hear them talking fast and low, using jargon and acronyms he’d never heard of.

  He could tell they didn’t know much about what was going on, however much they pretended to when he was around. A few probing questions and he’d discovered none of them knew about the upcoming mining, which was sort of weird.

  They all knew he was a Seddon, though, and that he’d only got the job because of his connections. So they made fun of him, but not too much, and most of the time they left him alone.

  Alone in the goddamn bush.

  Peter limped around his tree for perhaps the fiftieth time that morning, looking for some sign of … well, anything, and once again came up with nothing. Stretching away into the bush on one side was what he’d nicknamed The Cut – a massive ditch a metre or so wide, but at least ten metres deep. It was as though the earth had split along a seam in an earthquake, leaving plant roots dangling out of the upper layer of dirt. The Cut ran a couple of hundred metres before vanishing into the bush. Once, he’d seen a deer leap across it, running hard out as though it was being chased. That had been the most exciting thing to happen all day. And the day before.

  ‘Keep an eye out for anything
unusual,’ they’d told him. He’d carefully written down the deer sighting in his log book, but no one back at the camp seemed interested. Still, it could be worse. He was getting paid a massive amount for what so far had been a very cruisy job. Boring, though.

  He glanced around the tree again. Still nothing.

  Of course, when they said ‘anything unusual’, what they meant was ‘people’, but Peter couldn’t imagine anyone, even the most desperate family member, making their way here. It was too remote. The nearest roads were cordoned off, and even Seddon personnel had had to be choppered into Zone 10 and driven across Zone 11 in four-wheel drives. Dumped at the border, they then had to walk into the heart of Zone 12. Peter had almost cried with relief when he’d finally been able to sit down on his little camp stretcher and remove his stiff boots. His feet were throbbing, and bloody pieces of blistered skin came away with his socks. He wasn’t allowed to take his uniform off, though, or his helmet, even when sleeping. The radioactive waves had everyone on edge.

  He reached for his utility belt, which held a sharp knife, compass, and his coms device, encased in the same polymer as his suit. He checked the time just as another guard emerged from the bush and gave Peter a nod. Peter nodded back, suspecting that his nod wasn’t as cool as the one he’d been given and that he looked more like one of those bobbing dogs on a car dashboard.

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘Nope,’ Peter replied.

  ‘All right. You’d better get back. Some bigwig’s s’posed to be coming down today and everyone’s on detail.’

  Great, thought Peter. Scrubbing out the bogs again.

  He caught himself halfway through giving the guard another dog-like nod, and hurriedly about-faced, heading off down the same path the guard had taken through the trees.

  Half an hour later, he was back at the camp, a cluster of hastily erected green tents in a manmade clearing. To one side was a corral, with horses milling around inside. They were free from saddles and bridles, but wore soft black helmets. They always seemed agitated, except when they were out on patrol. The stable guy had begged to move them to the outskirts of the Zone. He was practically in tears whenever he watched them, tossing their heads and trotting restlessly back and forth. But they were needed here. In the absence of functional machinery, the horses were used to haul equipment and mysterious covered loads in four-wheeled wagons down to the Restricted Area. That was where security was really stepped up. The big command tent was over there, behind an area of bush and next to the river. Unless you had a special pass – and no one had a special pass – the area was strictly off limits.