Flight of the Fantail

by Steph Matuku

  Intrigued by the secrecy, Peter sometimes wandered as close as he dared, craning his neck to see if he could spy anything through the bush before someone yelled at him to get on with whatever he was supposed to be doing.

  Not today, though. He was starving.

  He checked in, filed his nothing report with a bored-looking guy in the first tent, and then went as quickly as his sore feet would allow into the mess. At least the food was good.

  He piled his plate high with chicken and potatoes and sat down in a corner to eat, in no hurry to join everyone else busily tidying up the already immaculate campsite. He watched them idly through a dusty plastic window.

  There was a lull in activity, and heads turned. Peter stopped chewing as he caught sight of a tight knot of people wearing the same black uniform and the same grim expression heading through the camp towards the Restricted Area. He got to his feet to follow, leaving his plate where it lay, ignoring an irate rebuke from one of the kitchen staff.

  Uncle Griff had arrived.

  53

  ‘Here you go,’ said Eva, dropping the backpack Jahmin had taken from the crash site at his feet. ‘I got everything. Clothes, knife. If it makes you feel sick going down into the cave, that’s good, right? That’s sort of lifelike.’

  Jahmin opened the backpack and checked the contents. ‘Not sick, exactly. Slow. Like, when a battery runs out and the screen fades.’ He looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. ‘Why have you got that?’

  Eva casually adjusted the straps of Mandy’s grey backpack across her shoulders. ‘I’m coming too. You can’t go by yourself.’

  Jahmin didn’t even bother replying. He closed the zip, slid the backpack on his back and started off across the clearing.

  ‘No, wait,’ said Eva, hurrying after him. ‘You might get hurt, you might get caught. They’ll put you in a lab and do weird things to you. And what if the ship makes you go loopy? What then? And …’

  Jahmin groaned. ‘Shut up, you stupid lesbo. We’ve been through all of this. It’s too risky for you. The ship will make you hallucinate, and I can’t look after you. I have to find out the truth.’

  ‘Please don’t leave me here with them. I can’t stand them. I really can’t.’

  ‘Seriously? You’d rather risk getting shot than hang out with Devin and Rocky?’

  ‘Can’t you tell they’re getting together?’ Eva demanded. ‘It’s sickening. She stares at him like a bitch on heat.’

  ‘You know adversity is supposed to bring out the best in people, right?’

  ‘I know, and they’re being complete dicks.’

  ‘I was talking about you.’

  He glared at her, and she dropped her hand.

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m just scared for you.’

  He held out his arms, and she stepped into them. He hugged her tightly. As always, there was something vaguely repellent about the coldness of his body, the lack of … what had he called it? That little internal drumbeat. She ignored it and hugged him back fiercely. ‘Two days. Tomorrow and the next day.’

  ‘And if I’m not back by sunset, just go as fast as you can in the opposite direction, all right?’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘And in the meantime, try and be nice. Okay?’

  Eva didn’t reply. She wasn’t promising anything.

  With a grunt of exertion, Devin emerged from the sinkhole, followed by Rocky. Devin settled down on the ground, her body half turned away, effectively closing herself off from the others. Her long fingers plucked restlessly at the grass, her eyes firmly focused on nothing. She had reverted to the Devin that Eva had always known, the lesser version. Eva felt a twinge of conscience. Was it her fault? Had she done that? It was just a stupid argument.

  Rocky broke the uneasy silence. ‘You off, bro?’

  ‘Yeah. Might as well.’

  Rocky leaned in and then checked himself and stepped back. ‘Take care.’

  Jahmin’s jaw was tense, his expression carefully blank, as he nodded. ‘Always.’

  He gave Devin a quick thumbs-up, met Eva’s gaze for one brief moment and vanished into the trees.

  Eva turned on Rocky. ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘What have I done now?’

  ‘Were you too scared to touch him? He’s still your friend, isn’t he?’

  A look of belligerence came over Rocky’s face. ‘Yeah, but I can’t … you know. Hongi him.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘It’s the breath of life! It’s a sacred thing! And he’s dead!’

  ‘So what? You can’t compromise your precious principles for one stinking farewell? You hurt his feelings! And he might never come back!’

  ‘Lots of our mates will never come back,’ Rocky said, and his voice broke a little. ‘He’s not the only one. And maybe it’d be better if he didn’t. No matter what you say, it’s wrong. It’s just wrong.’

  Eva looked over at Devin for support, but the fall of Devin’s dirty blonde hair covered her face, and Eva couldn’t catch her eye. She did see, however, two sparkling drops land on Devin’s knee, just before Devin got up and left.

  54

  Devin stood knee deep in the nearby stream, a spear in her hand, scanning the shadows under the overhanging ferns. It was peaceful out here, quieter than the main river and away from the tense atmosphere Jahmin had left behind. A blue kōtare perched motionless on a drooping branch, its tiny black eyes also scanning the water. It launched into a dive and emerged with a wriggling silver minnow held tightly in its beak. Back on its branch, it threw back its head and swallowed the minnow in one gulp before flying away.

  Devin turned her attention back to the stream, breathed in the scent of woody damp permeating the air. She glimpsed a spotted shadow lazily moving upstream, its tail undulating in the current. She stepped slowly and carefully, spear raised and …

  ‘Hey, are you okay?’

  Devin stumbled and the trout vanished. She looked with resentment at Eva standing on the bank, spear in hand. Of course she had to look gorgeous, thought Devin with an irrational flash of jealousy. Even though Eva was just as worn out and grubby as the rest of them, she managed to look like she’d planned to have mussed hair and interesting shadows under her eyes. Even her shorts fitted as though they were made for her and not for one of the skinnier guys in the class who was now almost certainly dead. A little pulse began beating against her temple, and she raised her hand automatically to massage it away. If Eva wasn’t here, everything would be fine, she thought. Peaceful, just like the stream.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’

  Eva kicked off her sneakers and climbed down the bank. She stepped into the water, exclaiming at the cold. ‘You don’t have to go fishing. We’ve got food.’

  ‘Not enough.’

  Eva waded to Devin’s side. ‘Okay. I’ll help.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘I want to.’

  The stream eddied around their knees. The silence was uncomfortable. Devin didn’t know what to say, so she just stood, her spear growing heavy in her hand, her eyes scanning the water without seeing. There were no more fish. There was no more anything.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Eva said finally, and the little words floated off downstream and disappeared. For a moment, Devin wasn’t sure they’d even been there at all.

  ‘I didn’t mean anything about Jahmin,’ Devin replied, still staring at the water. ‘I don’t have a problem with his … condition.’

  ‘Condition?’ A crack of laughter. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

  Devin gave Eva a small smile, and the ache in her head disappeared. ‘I hope he’s going to be all right.’

  ‘Me too.’

  Eva idly stabbed her spear in the water and drew it back, stabbed it again.

  ‘I haven’t really thought about everyone. I know in my head they’re all dead, but I feel lik
e they’re still alive. I haven’t grieved for any of them. Even Mandy. I miss her so much, but I can’t face it yet. I’ve cried, but not enough. Not yet.’

  She stabbed her spear in the water again. Devin wanted to tell her to stop doing that, to be quiet, that she’d frighten the fish away. But she knew that if Eva didn’t voice the tangle of ideas and impressions and emotions inside her, they would take her over, just like they had directly after the crash. And they already had enough to deal with without Eva’s helpless hopelessness dragging them down.

  ‘I get it,’ Devin said carefully. ‘I haven’t grieved either.’ Not that she really had anyone to grieve for. In fact, truth be told, she was glad some of them were no longer on this earth, and how terrible did that make her? ‘But we haven’t had time. We’ve been focused on surviving. Once we’re out of here, grieving will come.’

  ‘I know. And that’s why I’ve shut it off. If I think about them, I’m going to lose it. But with Jahmin … if we lost him now, it would be worse than if he’d died on the bus. It would.’

  ‘And yet,’ interjected Rocky, climbing down the bank, ‘he was dead already. We just didn’t know it.’

  Eva shot him a look of loathing. ‘Oh, shut up,’ she said bitterly.

  Rocky crouched and dabbled his hands in the water. ‘Just saying.’

  ‘I’m not going to argue with you any more.’ Eva hefted her spear, her knuckles whitening on the shaft. ‘Because we’re the only ones left, and we need to work together. Not because I don’t disagree with every word that comes out of your mouth. And not because I don’t think you’re an arrogant little toe-rag. Okay?’

  ‘Sweet as. Right back at you.’

  ‘So shut up about Jahmin. Or I’m going to smash your face in.’

  ‘Sure. Whatever.’

  Silence fell. Devin glanced warily at each of them. ‘Was that a truce?’

  ‘If you say so,’ said Rocky.

  ‘Fine by me,’ said Eva.

  Devin sighed. It was better than nothing, she supposed.

  55

  ‘Uncle!’

  The group didn’t pause.

  Peter tried again. ‘Oi! Griff!’

  His uncle stopped so abruptly that the guy behind him nearly bumped into him. Griff scowled at Peter and beckoned him over.

  ‘Nice day for it?’ Peter said cheerily as he caught up with his uncle.

  ‘How is everything, Peter?’ Griff’s voice was low, but Peter had the feeling nobody was listening anyway. The group was tense. A couple of people were peeling through stacks of notes. In another place, he supposed, the bulging folders would have been replaced with tablets and laptops.

  ‘Oh, you know,’ said Peter, stalling for time. They were nearing the checkpoint for the Restricted Area. One of the two guards at the gate handed the old guy at the front a plastic card and motioned him to remove his glasses. The old guy took them off, and the guard waved a wand encased in black polymer across his eyes and then across the card. They had to do it a couple of times because the old guy kept blinking. The man behind him was getting exasperated – his stack of papers was slipping. He exchanged a few terse words with the guard, who shrugged.

  ‘No, I don’t know, Peter,’ his uncle said. ‘That’s why I’m here.’

  ‘Right, yeah. Of course.’

  The whole security thing was way over the top, Peter decided. It wasn’t as if they had Beyoncé back there. But it wasn’t as if Peter hadn’t sneaked backstage before either.

  The other guard on the gate, a pretty woman with long mahogany hair, was making a headcount of the group and carefully counting out a number of plastic passes from her pocket.

  ‘There hasn’t been anything much so far,’ Peter said. He caught the woman’s eye and gave her a chin wave. She smiled. ‘Nobody knows anything about the …’ he mouthed the word mining.

  His uncle’s face was blank. ‘The what?’

  Peter winked. ‘Okay, then.’

  Griff moved to join the others. ‘We’ll talk later,’ he said over his shoulder.

  Peter dropped to tie up his bootlace. When everyone had been waved through the gate and was hurrying off, he sauntered forward with a smooth apology on his lips and stared unblinking as the black wand moved in front of his eyes. He accepted the final pass with a wink at the woman and walked into the Restricted Zone. Confidence, that’s all you needed. Easy as.

  Once inside, he took stock of his surroundings, his heart thumping with adrenaline. Griff and his paper-toting mates were disappearing inside a big tent on the right. Directly ahead of him was a line of bush intersected by a muddy track. A flimsy sign with a skull and crossbones drawn on it with heavy black marker had been jammed into the earth beside the track. Peter raised an eyebrow. Dramatic, much?

  To his left was another tent with a four-wheeled horse-drawn wagon at the rear. The wagon was like all the rest, streamlined in gunmetal grey, narrow and high sided with a canvas roof, and rubber tyres for negotiating the unstable ground.

  A man appeared through the tent flaps. He unhooked a white face mask from his ears, slipped it into his pocket and hurried over to what looked like the latrines.

  Curious, Peter took a hasty glance around and then walked as confidently towards the tent as his twitchy nerves would allow. As he drew near, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the sweet stench of rot in the air, and he wished he had a mask to put on as well.

  He held his breath and stuck his head into the tent. Long, wrapped bundles were stacked behind a sheet of translucent plastic in one corner. A mechanical fan in front of an insulated container of ice was doing its best to keep things cool, but it was doing nothing to prevent the smell permeating the air and everything it touched. The dirty, naked body of a girl lay on a bench, her long brown hair streaming over the edge. A man was carefully poking around in her torn flesh with a long pair of tweezers and dropping black pellets into a bucket on the floor.

  It was only a glance, and then Peter was heading back to the gate as fast as he could, ignoring the smile from the woman with the mahogany hair in his haste to get through to the other side.

  It looked as if Seddon had already found the Kōtuku High students.

  So how come they hadn’t told anyone?

  56

  ‘My dad can tickle them out of the water,’ Devin said. ‘He makes it look really easy. I should have learned how to do it when I had the chance.’

  Eva clambered up the bank, her spear aloft, a wide grin on her face. Every jerk of the trout on Eva’s spear sent it further down the shaft. Her first fish! Never before had she felt so triumphant and yet so grossed out at the same time.

  ‘You can always ask him,’ she said. ‘We’ll be out of here in a few days, don’t worry.’

  ‘I wish it was now,’ said Rocky from the bank. He was inspecting his leg, a confused frown on his face. Devin’s stitches, painfully removed with the help of a pocket knife, had left a trail of dots along each side of the wound, and it looked weeks old rather than days.

  ‘You promised,’ said Eva, lowering the spear and letting the fish slide off onto the dry stones, a cold-blooded murder in the sunshine. ‘Two days.’

  ‘I know I did,’ said Rocky coldly.

  ‘Shall we go back and cook this? I’ll do it,’ interrupted Devin.

  ‘I hope so,’ said Eva. ‘Seeing as I did all the work.’

  She threw them a smug smile and walked off. Devin followed her.

  Rocky took out a pocket knife from his shorts. He began scaling the fish and pulling its guts out, a messy business made all the more difficult by the ragged hole left by Eva’s spear.

  He scooped up the cold, bloody remains and went down to the stream to throw them in. He swished his hands in the water, sniffed them, swished again. And then he paused. He had the weirdest sensation of being watched.

  He scanned the dense bush on the opposite bank. Nothing. He checked all around just as a breeze danced across the water, making the ferns behind him shiver and sway. Rocky squinte
d. For a second he thought he’d seen something in the shadows.

  He stood up, wiping his hands on his shorts, all at once feeling chilly despite the heat of the day. He picked up the fish, hurried back through the trees to the sinkhole and nearly crashed into Devin, who appeared suddenly from behind some bushes.

  ‘Woah!’ He managed to hold onto the fish, but only just.

  ‘Look what I found!’

  She held a handful of fern fronds.

  ‘Wow,’ said Rocky, his uneasiness making his tone surlier than he’d intended. ‘Plants.’

  Devin dropped her hands. ‘It’s pikopiko,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s edible. And we haven’t had any fresh greens lately. I thought it would be nice.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ He motioned her to walk ahead of him, but she made no move. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s just that … not everything is going to go your way all of the time.’ Her voice was higher than usual, and two red spots had appeared on her cheeks. ‘People aren’t going to do what you want all of the time, either.’

  ‘D’you think I don’t know that?’ he began indignantly, but she was still talking.

  ‘And you being unkind about it is not very … kind.’

  Rocky gave a little ‘huh’ of amusement at her choice of words, and she put her head down and scuttled past him. ‘Don’t laugh at me.’