April

by Gabrielle Lord

Furious, I started pummelling the squirming thief.

  ‘No!’ he yelled. ‘Please stop! Don’t hit me! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you! Please, I was just—going to borrow it!’

  I stopped. The voice that was crying out sounded like it belonged to someone my own age. I held his shoulders down.

  ‘You’re a liar!’ I yelled as we scuffled in the dirt. It wasn’t hard to overpower him, and after a few moments, he stopped squirming and just lay there, panting. I hadn’t realised that over the past few months of living in the derelict St Johns Street house, the stormwater drain, and anywhere else I could stretch my exhausted body out, I’d toughened up a lot. I pinned his arms to the ground, squashing him again with the weight of my body.

  ‘Please,’ he puffed, ‘let me go.’

  I grabbed his wrists together with my right hand while I fished out my torch from the nearby backpack and shone it directly onto his face.

  Under the torchlight was a pale, freckle-faced, scared-looking guy who was probably about fifteen, like me. He had gelled hair sticking out in all directions, and ginger-coloured eyes which were blinking and squinting.

  ‘Who are you, and what do you want with me?’ I demanded, keeping the light on his face.

  ‘Griff—Griff Kirby,’ he gasped. ‘Nothing, I don’t want nothing. Honest. I didn’t mean anything bad. I just saw this backpack lying on the ground … and …’

  ‘And me right next to it,’ I said. ‘You were going to pinch it, weren’t you?’

  Griff wrinkled his face.

  ‘Kind of,’ he admitted.

  ‘You’re a thief! Why should I let you up? Give me one good reason!’

  ‘Let me up, and I’ll give you heaps of good reasons. A guy like me—’

  ‘Who pinches people’s backpacks while they’re sleeping,’ I finished.

  I was tired of playing games. ‘OK, get up. Just go,’ I said, releasing him from my grip. I stood up and then backed away a metre or so. The torch lay on its side, dimly lighting the scene and making deep shadows. Griff Kirby slowly stood up, and brushed dirt off his jeans.

  ‘You hit pretty hard,’ he said, admiringly. He turned and I thought that would be the last I’d see of him, but all he did was take a few steps towards a shoulder bag that lay on the ground near a low rock. He leaned over and pulled some things out of it. I saw a packet of chips and my mouth watered.

  Food.

  ‘You hungry?’ he asked.

  I ignored him, wondering what he was up to now.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he asked me.

  ‘Tom.’

  ‘Catch!’ he said as he threw the packet of chips to me.

  I caught them, tore them open, and started shoving handfuls into my mouth. Griff sat down on the rock by his own bag and stared at me.

  ‘What do you want?’ I asked him, wanting to know why he was sticking around.

  ‘Umm, nothing.’

  ‘OK … well I have to get to the city,’ I said, as I started packing up my things that were scattered across the ground after our struggle.

  ‘Me too,’ said Griff. ‘We could go together. It’s safer that way.’

  ‘Safer?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘So what’s happened to you? When I see a guy in the middle of the bush sleeping on the ground,’ he scoffed, ‘I know there’s gotta be a story. Were you kicked out of home too?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I said. I up-ended the chip packet to get the last of the crumbs, and thought about what he was saying about travelling together. It made sense. Hitchhiking is dodgy at the best of times. And there was that little issue of the state looking for me—a solo item. Two fifteen-year-olds travelling together would be great cover for me. I was decided.

  ‘Let’s try and get a ride,’ I said.

  Even in the dark I could see Griff’s eyes light up. He slung his shoulder bag into position and we started walking.

  From higher ground and well hidden by trees and bush, Griff Kirby and I were sussing out a small truck parked on the side of the road with its tray covered in some sort of canvas. The driver had gone in to pay for his fuel.

  ‘He’s pointing in the right direction,’ said Griff. ‘Let’s go!’

  The morning sun was rising high into the sky as we skidded down the slope, as fast as we could, keeping out of sight of the shop area. We crept around the back of the covered truck and squeezed our bags into it, before climbing under the canvas flaps ourselves. I thought I heard the sound of another helicopter overhead as I pulled the canvas tight over us.

  We waited in silence, holding our breath as the sound of the driver’s footsteps approached the truck. He unlocked his door, climbed in and started the ignition.

  I exhaled with relief as the vehicle picked up speed, heading towards the city. The signpost said eighty kilometres, so the trip should only take us a couple of hours, I thought.

  I’m on my way, Gabbi. Just hold on for me.

  We settled down in the back, making ourselves as comfortable as we could. Luckily, for us, the driver had the radio up quite loudly.

  ‘See, Mum has this new boyfriend,’ Griff was saying, ‘and he doesn’t like me at all.’

  Instantly I thought of Mum living at Rafe’s place. Even though I knew Rafe was trying to do his best, the move to his place seemed to be taking my family further and further away from me and our old life.

  ‘So they kicked me out of home,’ Griff shrugged. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘same.’ I didn’t want to say too much. Griff could turn into a problem for me if he knew who I was.

  ‘You don’t say much,’ he observed.

  ‘It takes me a while,’ I said, ‘to buddy up with someone who was trying to rob me only this morning.’

  Griff gave me a friendly shove. ‘Sorry, dude,’ he said, sounding like Boges. ‘Being out on the street makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do,’ he explained.

  I knew about that all too well.

  ‘But anyway,’ he continued, ‘we have the same story—we’ve both been chucked out of home—so we should stick together. That way we can look out for each other.’

  ‘I’ll be looking out for my backpack,’ I said, ‘that’s for sure.’

  Griff stifled a laugh. I wasn’t sure if I needed a buddy like him.

  ‘Cool ring. Where’d you get it?’ Griff asked, noticing the Celtic ring on my little finger that Gabbi had given me. Maybe he had his eye on it.

  ‘My little sister gave it to me. It was hers—our dad bought it for her from Ireland.’

  I had two lucky charms now that were supposed to keep me from harm—Gabbi’s ring, and Repro’s guardian angel pin. Both had failed miserably. ‘She gave it to me a little while ago,’ I said, ‘reckoned it would keep me safe.’

  ‘And it has,’ said Griff. ‘Here we are, safe and sound, almost back in the city. No dramas.’

  Yeah, no dramas. Never any dramas for me.

  ‘Got a girlfriend?’ he asked next.

  ‘Nope,’ I answered, pretty quickly. I was frustrated that his question made me picture Winter’s beautiful, dark eyes and wild, glittering hair. How could I think of her like that when I wasn’t even sure if she was on my side? If I did have a girlfriend, I’d make sure she wasn’t connected to criminals—especially not someone like Sligo who’d already tried to kill me.

  Sunlight streamed through gaps in the canvas, striping our clothes and skin. Griff looked more closely at me. ‘I keep thinking I know you,’ he said.

  ‘Join the club.’

  ‘The club?’

  ‘People always think I’m familiar for some reason. I don’t know why, and I don’t get it. So, anyway, what do you plan to do once we get to the city?’ I asked him, avoiding the whole do-I-know-you-from-somewhere? routine.

  ‘I’m going to live with my aunty,’ he said. ‘She wrote me a letter once. A long time ago.’

  ‘You don’t sound too sure about it,’ I said.

  He shrugged. ‘You can come t
oo,’ he offered.

  ‘And your aunty would be OK with that?’ I doubt it, I thought to myself.

  ‘Yeah. I reckon she’d be cool. She’s young and I’m pretty sure she lives on her own, too.’

  ‘I’ve really gotta get to the city,’ I said, ‘and get to the hospital.’

  ‘Why? You look pretty healthy to me,’ Griff joked. ‘A bit skinny, but that’s not going to kill you if you don’t get there!’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘but it could kill my sister.’ My voice choked as I said the words. ‘She’s on life support and they’re talking about switching it off.’

  Griff’s grin faded. ‘Switching it off? What happened? How old is she?’

  ‘Bushwalking fall. Nine,’ I said in a whisper. ‘She’s been in a coma for about three months. They don’t think she’s ever going to wake up.’

  ‘You have to stop them!’ he said.

  We jolted along in silence for a while. I was aware of Griff glancing at me from time to time, as if he was trying to work me out. I tightened my hold on my backpack.

  It had been hours since Griff and I had climbed into the back of the guy’s truck we were still bumping along in. He’d stopped by the road a few times to take some phone calls and run into different stores, while we sweated it out in the back, hoping like hell he wasn’t about to grab something from the tray we were hiding in.

  At one point we’d pulled into a carpark, and he was taking so long inside this hardware shop that we almost decided to make a run for it. The problem was that we were parked right outside an outdoor café at lunch time. Not only was it painful waiting for him to return, it was painful having to lie there under the canvas, unable to move, while the smell of coffee, burgers, pasta, and fish and chips wafted in.

  Luckily for us the driver had stayed away from the back of his truck, but all the stops had meant that we were only just approaching the city outskirts—much later than we’d anticipated.

  ‘We’d better jump out soon,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure where we are exactly, but we can’t risk going too much further with this guy. We don’t even know whether he’s going into the city or not.’

  Griff nodded. ‘I get it—way too much country radio for one day, hey?’

  ‘Way too much!’ I agreed.

  ‘Give us your number, Tom. And I’ll call you from my aunty’s.’

  ‘How about you give me yours?’

  He looked at me strangely as I entered his number into my mobile instead; a frown had formed on his freckled face. Then he asked the question I’d been thinking about ever since Boges had told me the news about Gabbi’s life support being switched off.

  ‘So Tom, how are you going to stop them?’

  It ended up being easy enough to jump out of the truck. We just waited for it to slow down at a red light, and then making sure there was no traffic behind us, or anyone walking nearby, we scrambled out unnoticed. It was great timing; we watched the truck continue a couple of hundred metres up the hill before taking an exit on the left—bypassing the city entirely.

  I promised myself I would stop attaching myself to moving objects. First Oriana’s boot, Lachlan Drysdale’s pick-up, Melba’s boot, and then there’d been the train … almost.

  We’d wandered up to a place I recognised—the central markets, several kilometres away from town and Liberty Square, and where stalls mostly sold fresh fruit, vegetables and bread.

  The hospital was about a kilometre away and I wanted to find somewhere that I could clean up a bit first. I wasn’t sure what Griff planned on doing and when, but I definitely felt safer, and more inconspicuous, walking along beside him.

  My mobile beeped.

  whatever u do, don’t come 2 the hospital 2day.

  why?

  i’m there now. security everywhere. don’t worry, nothing 2 do with u. some nursing protest happening. no chance u could get in.

  ok. thanks.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Griff asked.

  ‘Yep, yep, just a slight change of plans.’

  272 days to go …

  Repro would have to wait a little longer on the money I owed him, because Griff and I had chewed into it, finally grabbing some food last night. After Boges warned me about heavy security at the hospital, I figured we might as well have something to eat and find a place to sleep. I bought us some fruit from the market, and some kebabs from a late-night street vendor, and then we both completely crashed out on a ledge that stuck out just under the Iron Gate Bridge.

  I’d only been awake for a little while, and was trying to clear my head and think of an action plan for the day when I noticed I had missed calls and a text message on my phone.

  CAL! WHY WON’T U ANSWER UR PHONE?! GABBI’S BEING SWITCHED OFF AT 11:30AM THIS MORNING! A PRIEST IS ALREADY THERE. PLEASE, HURRY AND STOP THEM!!! I’VE BEGGED UR MUM NOT TO. SHE WON’T LISTEN 2 ME! U HAVE 2, CAL, DO WHATEVER IT TAKES.

  My pulse raced as I realised that the doctors were turning off the switch in just over an hour! I felt delirious. I couldn’t think.

  ‘I have to get to the hospital,’ I finally said, shaking Griff awake. My panic was rising rapidly, like never before. ‘They’re going to switch my sister off at eleven thirty! Today!’

  Under the panic, my survival instincts began surfacing—instincts I didn’t know I even had. There are security cameras in hospitals, something warned me. You mustn’t be recognised, or you won’t even make it through to Gabbi’s ward, let alone save her. You need to stay cool and not get arrested before you stop them switching Gabbi off. You must stay cool if you want to keep her alive.

  My head jerked around, looking one way, then the next.

  Calm down, Cal.

  Frantically, I looked around for the public toilets that I remembered seeing late last night.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Griff slurred, still groggy with sleep.

  ‘Gabbi! They’re turning her off in—’ I looked at my phone for the time, ‘in less than a freaking hour!’

  Griff stumbled to his feet, picked up his bag, and then came after me as I headed for the bathroom block, hauling my backpack onto my shoulders as I ran.

  In the spotty mirror, I saw that my hair had started growing long again. The black colour had faded, leaving me with a dirty blond look.

  As I washed my face and hands, my mind was filled with images of my sister. I felt nauseous, nearly puking in the sink. I had to get to her! I didn’t know what I was going to do—but I had to get there to try something.

  I wet my hair and slicked it right back. Already I looked heaps different. My face seemed thinner than I remembered it, too, adding to the change. The fake studs I’d once had were gone, and the tatts I’d worn had also disappeared. I grabbed a nose ring clip out of a pocket in my bag and snapped it on with trembling fingers.

  All the time, my heartbeat was drumming out: hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.

  Griff watched on, completely confused. He had no idea what I was doing nor why. He knew I had to get to the hospital, but he didn’t know who I was. He didn’t know that I had to conceal my identity or I’d be arrested … and Gabbi would surely die.

  ‘I’ll explain another time,’ I said as I fumbled in my backpack and found a dark eye pencil that Boges had brought me when I was living in the squat. Urgency was making my fingers unreliable.

  My heart was now beating out: I’m on my way, Gabs, I’m on my way, hold on for me as I used the pencil to thicken and darken my eyes and eyebrows.

  ‘You sure look different,’ Griff said, as I swung my backpack over my shoulders and bolted out the door in the direction of the hospital.

  ‘Good luck with your sister,’ he called after me. ‘I really hope it works out for you!’

  I looked down at my phone for the time, and then forced myself to run faster.

  All around the entrance area were security cameras.

  Look calm, look calm.

  A big man, wearing navy overalls, boots, and a dump belt with radio and baton, glanced at me as I wal
ked through the admission doors.

  I stepped up to the reception desk, terrified that I’d be recognised before I could get to my sister. I couldn’t afford any delays now.

  I checked the time.

  I had only thirteen minutes left!

  I had to wait for a large group of people that was ahead of me to quit asking the overworked receptionist stupid questions. I watched as minutes ticked away on the big clock above the entrance doors.

  ‘I’m looking for Gabbi Ormond,’ I said hurriedly, as the receptionist was finally able to look at me. She bobbed her blonde head down to find my sister’s details, then looked at something written in her notes. I was silently commanding her hurry up, just hurry up! She seemed to take forever.

  Behind her, the tiny, hooded security camera recorded everything that was happening. I kept my head half-turned away.

  ‘Are you a relative?’ asked the nurse, looking very concerned.

  I hesitated. If I hid my identity and said ‘no’, I probably wouldn’t be allowed in to see my sister. If I said ‘yes’, I’d have to give my name.

  ‘Please,’ I begged, avoiding the question, ‘I must see her.’

  ‘I’m afraid only relatives are allowed in at this stage.’

  A terrible thrill of fear shot through me. ‘What do you mean? What do you mean by at this stage?’ As afraid as I was, I still didn’t believe it was true!

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the nurse replied and I could see she was really trying to be very nice to me, ‘but I’m not at liberty to discuss patients. You must get permission from the medical staff or her family if you want to see her.’

  I walked away, heart racing crazily. At this stage, she’d said. God, was it happening already? Were they switching it off right now? Was I too late? I would never forgive myself. Desperately, I searched every sign and noticeboard on the wall. Although I felt blind with shock, three big, white letters stood out on a sign: ICU, with an arrow pointing to the right.