Dawn of the Tiger

by Gus Frazer

  ‘It’ll settle in a second. Pretty incredible huh?’

  ‘Everything is new, everything feels like, a million times more!’ He stared at her, eyes wide.

  Sophie smiled. ‘Told you not to worry. Now you do me.’ She handed him the patch.

  Finn took it, again feeling a pulse up his arm and into his chest.

  ‘Just make sure you get it above the last vertebra or else it won’t get the neuro connection.’

  Sophie turned around and lifted her hair. Finn touched her neck. The skin was soft and the hairs tickled his fingers. He slowly rubbed her neck the same way she had done to him. Putting the patch just above the vertebra he saw it glow light blue as soon as it was on the skin.

  ‘Oh fuck,’ groaned Sophie as she convulsed forward, steadying herself with one arm on the wall.

  ‘You okay?’ asked Finn, concerned.

  ‘Never better,’ she replied, turning, breathing heavily and smiling. ‘Are you ready for the most amazing experience of your life?’ she asked, taking Finn’s hand and leading him to the door at the end of the hall.

  Opening the door to the club, the music washed over them as physically as a wave on the shore break. Finn was swimming in the white wash of sound, the current pulling at his body. At first he thought he was choking, unable to breathe, then the sensation settled and he relaxed, letting the sounds flow over, around and through his body.

  They brushed past people, each contact sending tingles and pulses through his body. Finding some space, they danced, moving their bodies together, touching, swaying, enveloping themselves in the music, the strobing lights and the sensation of their bodies. It was almost spiritual, Finn felt, as if he was transcending his body, feeling everything more cleanly and deeply than ever before.

  They danced for hours, just the two of them, transfixed on one another, greedily consuming every heightened sensation.

  Finn was losing himself. He was now swimming on his own, deep in an empty ocean. Darkness and water all around, he didn’t feel scared. He felt at peace. His body was numb and warm and comfortable, he was alone, floating in the dark watching the stars, bright and vibrant. He was aware of the music, of Sophie, of the world, but they were all beneath him, under the water, deep down, so that only slight vibrations disturbed the otherwise slick and tranquil water.

  He felt a hand on his neck, stroking him gently. And then it was over. Abruptly he came back to reality … the dark loud club, the pounding bass, the crowded dance floor and Sophie in front of him looking into his eyes. It all looked dirty and seedy now, the people in the club were swaying and dancing, but alone and in their own world.

  ‘Come on, let’s go!’ she yelled above the music.

  Once outside Finn’s senses slowly re-calibrated to the real world.

  ‘Sorry, I had to pull your patch off so quickly in there.’

  ‘That’s okay. That was incredible.’

  ‘It is, but it’s easy to lose yourself with a patch. You can see them in there,’ she gestured towards the club with her thumb, ‘it gives a whole new meaning to the term “losers”. They just go too deep with the patch. It’s not until closing time that the bouncers come around and tear them off. Talk about a crash.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘Well, you were on your way, back in there.’

  ‘Sorry about that.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, takes a bit of practise to get the hang of them. It’s like you need to let yourself go to the point where you are still aware of what’s happening, but as soon as you realise you’re the only person in your space then you need to come back. Hard to control though.’

  ‘Ever tried one with sex?’

  ‘Yeah, it starts out incredible, but it’s not that good. You just end up going into your own place — kind of makes it boring.’

  ‘Sounds average.’

  ‘Completely. It takes the beauty out of it.’ She suddenly looked shy, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking up at him.

  ‘So, do you want to come back to mine?’ he asked, entwining his fingers with hers. Finns heart thumping as the question hung in the air momentarily.

  ‘Only if you have water. I’m so thirsty,’ replied Sophie, smiling.

  ‘Whoa, it’s 4 am,’ Finn commented as he glanced at MiLA’s screen before summoning his car through the device. They waited on the corner for the Jeep to arrive, happy to be leaving together. Back in Bondi they fell out of the Jeep in front of Finn’s place. Walking arm-in-arm into the apartment building they were laughing, making far too much noise. In the lift going up Finn warned, ‘You’ll have to excuse my place, it’s in a state’.

  ‘Whatever,’ said Sophie as she pressed herself against him and started to kiss him greedily.

  Out of the lift, they ran along the hall to Finn’s apartment. Once inside, he offered Sophie water, which she accepted as she walked off to find the bathroom. Three minutes later she came out to find Finn asleep on the couch.

  Taking his hands, she tried to heave him to his feet. But he was way too heavy and too far gone to be woken. Giving up, she went to the bedroom, undressed and got into bed, the room spinning slightly but not enough to stop her from slipping into a deep alcohol-induced sleep.

  The light from the uncovered windows woke Finn in the morning. Feeling like death, fully clothed, head pounding, and mouth dry and acidic, he felt the come-down from the night before acutely. Slowly, he pulled himself off the couch and stumbled into the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. Walking out of the bathroom and into his bedroom he saw a shape under the covers of his duvet and unfamiliar clothes on the floor.

  ‘Oh shit,’ he whispered, as shards of memories from last night came back.

  Dropping his towel, he slid into bed beside her. The bed was warm, her tangled dark hair a mess on the pillow. She was lying on her side facing away from him and he moved in to envelop her warm, beautiful body. Putting an arm around her, he felt her shuffle slightly.

  ‘Good morning, soldier,’ she said in a huskier tone than Finn remembered.

  ‘Good morning, sexy,’ he replied, with a smile on his face.

  ‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ said Sophie, turning to face him, ‘but I feel terrible’. She put a hand to her temple.

  ‘Oh God, same, I can’t believe you made us drink those tequilas. It’s definitely your fault.’ Finn said, squeezing her playfully.

  ‘My fault?’ replied Sophie. ‘You got me drunk with military precision,’ she said, rolling over and giving Finn a playful whack on the arm. ‘Besides, you’re the one who passed out on your couch.’

  They lay in bed all morning, lazily and sensually discovering each other’s bodies. After the second round, they finally got up to face the day at about 1 pm. Finn walked her to the lift. ‘Thanks for an amazing night, and even more amazing morning,’ he said with an easy grin.

  ‘Thank you, soldier,’ replied Sophie. ‘So will I see you before you head off?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I have to get out of here today and I’ll be up at my parents’ until I go to the training camp.’

  ‘Okay, I understand,’ she smiled, squeezing his hand. ‘Well send me an IT to let me know how you’re getting on.’

  ‘You bet,’ he replied as the lift doors opened. Bringing her in closer he gave her a last kiss. ‘See you gorgeous,’ he called after her as she got into the lift.

  ‘Bye,’ was all she said, smoothing down her hair as the doors closed.

  Finn walked back to the apartment to finish packing before his parents arrived. ‘Why is it that these things only happen when you’re about to go away?’ he asked himself. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe he had way too much to lose here. But there was no going back now.

  Sonia arrived just after 4 pm to help him with his things. The apartment looked bare and depressing now that all his belongings were removed. Finn took one last look and closed the door on his way out. Driving down Hall Street, leaving Bondi behind, Finn passed the café where Sophie worked. What the he
ll am I doing? he thought to himself as he watched the life he had built recede in the rear-view mirror.

  Chapter 7

  The following Monday, Sonia and Finn packed up his basic kit and readied themselves for the drive to the Woodford Army Base. Standing in his room, Sonia gripped Finn’s arm and gently said, ‘You should go say goodbye to your dad.’

  The previous night, as with every night lately, they’d had a fight. Tom had said he refused to come with them to drop Finn off, saying he couldn’t drive his own son to his death. Finn had no doubt that the old man was still furious with him. He hesitantly walked into his dad’s home office. He studied the room, walls lined with plaques, awards and photos from Tom’s CEO years. Finn had always admired that office, had thought that was the kind of success he’d wanted to aim for. Tom had encouraged that in him as well. Now Finn was saying goodbye to all that. Tom was sitting at his desk, flicking through news feeds on his screen. He clearly wasn’t reading anything, though, just flicking to occupy his mind.

  ‘Dad? We’re leaving,’ Finn said, as gently as he could.

  Tom didn’t look up or at his son. He pretended he hadn’t heard him. Finn, eyes stinging with tears, backed out of the room.

  The moment the door clicked shut, sobs started to rack Tom’s body. He bent his head down and wept, alone.

  Finn was silent virtually the whole way to the training base. He felt scared.

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. Get your head straight you tosser, time to man up, time to do something real with your worthless life,’ he repeated to himself.

  Pulling up to the gate, they were met by a sign proclaiming: ‘No cars beyond this point’. This suited Finn: he didn’t want to be the one who gets dropped off on day one by his tearful mum. Kissing and hugging each other, they exchanged the ritual I-love-yous. Finn couldn’t wait to get away — it was hard enough without his mother getting all emotional on him. He was trying desperately to keep his cool, and keep the tears at bay. Again he chastised himself. ‘Toughen the fuck up,’ he willed himself as he walked to the guard post.

  ‘Finn Hunt. I’m reporting for training,’ he said to the soldier behind the counter.

  The corporal searched down his sheet of paper. ‘Hunt, Hunt, Hunt. Ah yes, here you are. You’ve done time with the reserve it says here.’

  ‘Yes, two years.’

  ‘All right then. You’re to report to bunker 12 to get processed. There you will be issued your instructions. Check the map on the wall to locate bunker 12.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Finn, already feeling out of his depth.

  Walking over to the map he was confronted with what seemed like a city, mapped out with hundreds of buildings.

  ‘Fuck me,’ he muttered to himself, not noticing the two others who had moved up behind him to read the map as well.

  ‘Where you supposed to be?’ asked one of them, surprising Finn.

  ‘Ah, bunker 12, wherever the hell that is,’ replied Finn, turning to look at his companions. They looked young, and rough as guts. They looked exactly like Tom’s idea of a soldier, dumb shits who had no other options.

  ‘Hey, same. I guess all the newbies are sent to bunker 12,’ said the other guy, staring blankly at the map.

  ‘Yeah, guess so,’ said Finn. Without waiting to find bunker 12 on the map, Finn picked up his bag and walked out of the guardhouse. Looking around the camp, it didn’t seem as big as what the map had made it look like — but then again, he could only see the first few rows of buildings before the ground sloped off down a hill. Starting to walk, he noticed signs pointing out directions for the different numbered bunkers and buildings. Following the signs, he walked along trying to take it all in. There was a great deal of activity along the tar-sealed roads and grassed areas. Groups of soldiers running in formation, some doing push-ups, other groups just standing at attention. It felt like something out of a movie.

  Walking up to bunker 12, Finn pulled open the flimsy plywood door. The whole camp had a pop-up feel to it, as if it could be disassembled in less than a day. Stepping into the bunker, Finn was greeted by a burly-looking corporal seated at a small desk that only accentuated his size.

  ‘Soldier! Over here,’ said the corporal, gesturing for Finn to approach him.

  Finn walked over to the desk, not really knowing what to say. ‘Finn Hunt reporting for service, err … sir.’

  ‘Hunt,’ he grunted, looking down at his papers. ‘Right. You’ve been assigned to Tiger Battalion, report to tent 456, which is on the southeast corner of the base. Once processed, you will report to your tent and make yourself known to Sergeant Higgins who is in charge of your squad.’

  When the corporal had finished his long list of instructions, most of which Finn barely took in, he directed Finn to a door on the right of the bunker. Here Finn was issued with his uniform and equipment, given a medical examination, a haircut and an information pack regarding the camp. After four hours of being processed, Finn emerged back into the sun and heat of the late afternoon, rubbing his freshly buzzed head. It had been years since he last shaved his head, and he couldn’t stop rubbing it.

  Finn was stunned by the level of activity in the camp. It was as if everyone had a specific job they were focussed on. They all seemed to have a purpose here, everyone except him. What the hell was he doing here? He was a trader, a city boy who used face creams and wore designer clothes. His whole image had been carefully constructed from magazines and movies. Finn had to will himself on, telling himself the panic he was feeling was good, it meant he was out of his comfort zone — actually challenging himself.

  Finding tent 456, Finn walked in to find it empty of people. There was plenty of gear lying around in a tidy fashion. He spotted a bunk bed that looked empty, threw his bag and gear on the end and sat with his head in his hands. The self-doubt was now really kicking in and the voice in his head continued to tell him he didn’t belong. He lay on the bed and tried to get himself under control.

  It was dark by the time the others got back to the tent. In they streamed, all six of them. Dirty, smelly and exhausted. No one paid any attention to Finn. They were silent, perhaps too exhausted to talk.

  ‘My name is Finn Hunt. Is Sergeant Higgins here?’ Finn said to no one in particular.

  No one in particular answered him. They all just carried on silently shedding their dusty equipment and stripping off clothes that were heavy from sweat and grime. It was as if they were all deaf and blind — or was it that Finn was mute and invisible?

  Coming up behind a large man who wore the stripes of a sergeant, he said, ‘Excuse me, sir. My name is Finn Hunt and I’ve been ordered to report to Sergeant Higgins.’

  The man, who was bent over his rucksack, raised his torso slowly but did not turn to face Finn. ‘Private Hunt, welcome to the war. Welcome to the Tigers. Are you sure you’re in the right place though? I heard that the admin corps is looking for secretaries. You look like you’d fit right in over there.’ A stifled snigger resonated throughout the tent.

  Finn had to smile at that. He knew he looked out of place. ‘Ah, no sir, I’m in the right place. I was injured in the field of typing — paper laceration to the middle finger meant I could never type again, sir, so they transferred me to the infantry to see out my time.’ He looked solemnly at the sergeant’s back.

  Still facing his bunk, Sergeant Higgins asked the rest of the men, ‘What do you reckon, boys? Sounds like we’ve got another wannabe action hero in our midst.’

  ‘No room for heroes around here,’ came a voice behind Finn.

  ‘No room for pussies either,’ said another.

  Higgins turned now to face Finn. He was a big man with big features. His face had handsome proportions and structure, but he was battle-scarred and creased — he looked like an old campaigner from way back, but he was probably only in his thirties.

  ‘So, Hunt, sounds like you don’t fit in around here. We don’t want pansies and we don’t need any more heroes,’ said Higgins. ‘You’ve got some work t
o do to prove yourself around here.’

  Finn’s face was serious. ‘Yessir, I’ll do my best.’

  Moving closer to Finn now, Higgins leaned in. ‘“Your best?” Your best won’t do, Hunt. Not at all. You’re going to need to tap into your worst.’ Higgins’ face was so close to Finn’s that he could smell the stench of his breath and see the red veins in his eyes. ‘You’ll need to bring out the worst in yourself, the part of you that you haven’t met. But you will, and when you do, you may not like who you are.’

  Finn just stood, staring straight ahead.

  Higgins continued staring him right in the eye, not moving but breathing heavily. ‘Tomorrow you start learning about who you really are, Hunt. Dismissed!’ And with that Higgins turned and got back to his unpacking.

  Finn turned and went back to his bunk. The tent was silent and the rest of the men went back to busying themselves with their gear.

  Following the initial battle for Australia, Higgins, like most of the surviving soldiers, had been promoted and posted to training camps. The theory being that Australia needed to train a small elite group of soldiers that could disrupt and cause as much havoc for the Chinese as possible. Higgins’ extensive experience and training as a US soldier made him a valuable asset for the military. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of training young men and women to go out and fight, to see the things he had seen, but he followed his orders to the letter like the professional soldier that he was.

  The next day Finn was woken by the sound of the alarm, which was a piercing siren broadcast across the camp. In a repeat of last night, everyone silently busied themselves, getting their equipment together with a minimum of fuss. Finn had no idea what to do. He just started stuffing his kit into his rucksack. Leaning over to his right, Finn tried to get the attention of a young guy who looked remotely approachable. ‘Hey mate, what do I need? I’ve got no idea what to pack. What the hell am I supposed to do?’

  The soldier looked over at him and resigned himself to help Finn. Without saying a word he grabbed bits of kit from Finn’s bed and stuffed it into his rucksack, stuffing it as full as possible. Finn noticed that he put all the heavy items into the bag and that the other rucksacks looked half-empty, while his was brimming over the top.