by Jon Cronshaw
Abel nods. “At least we’re sheltered in here. I wouldn’t like to be outside in that.” He sits on the ground, crosses his legs and pats the floor next to him.
Leaning her rifle against the wall, Sis sits opposite Abel. She stares into the distance, chewing on her bottom lip.
“You okay?”
“Don't like not sleeping. Dark thoughts.” She looks up at Abel and swallows.
“How do you do it? How do you kill people?”
Sis looks at the ground, picking at her fingernails. “That's why I have dark thoughts. I know I need to do what I need to do, but I see faces in my head.”
“So, you feel bad about it?”
Sis nods, but doesn't say anything.
“I don't think I've ever killed anyone.”
“Not sure?”
Abel sighs. “You ever hear of the Family?”
Sis nods. “Plez.”
“Might have killed some of their people. It's been eating me up. I was able to push it aside, you know? But it's brought it all back.”
“What you mean?”
“I mean, with the Family it was about stopping them making plez. I checked to make sure the place was empty, but you can never be sure. I told myself it was, but I’m not a killer.”
“I don't want to. I don't want to die if I don’t.”
“When I went to see that king, I was going to kill him. I had my pistol pointed at his face and I pulled the trigger...I was going to kill him. I kept pulling the trigger, but nothing happened.” His voice cracks.
“He still alive.”
Abel sighs. “I know, but I would’ve killed him. In that moment, I pulled the trigger, knowing it would kill him. I wanted him to die. Whether he’s dead or not, that makes me a killer.”
“But he still alive,” Sis says flatly.
“He was unarmed.” Abel tugs at his beard.
“If you killed him, that woman would be alive and everyone be at Trinity. Not safe on wastes. You work out what is best. Sometimes, that mean you kill.”
“Thing is, I don't look at you and see a killer. I look at you and see a survivor. Why’s it different?”
“I live with what I done.”
Abel nods to himself and smiles. “Thanks, Sis. The fact we feel like that, it means we’re alright.”
A smile reaches Sis’s eyes. “I like that.”
17. A Man
The sun rests high in the sky when Abel, David and Sis turn left off the highway and follow the trail to Town. Shattered logs and car parts lie on the trail’s edge as thick grasses and ferns jerk against the breeze. When the slope flattens out, Abel steps to the front and calls out in greeting. The cars that usually rest in a horseshoe-shape around Town now stand in a closed circle, sealing the settlement off from the rest of the world. “Hello?”
Abel looks around and listens. Scraping and hammering comes from inside. He calls out again.
“Mister?” Second Bob looks over the makeshift wall, his green eyes darting between Abel, David, and Sis. “I'll let you in.”
They stand and wait. Abel looks around and shakes his head. “They really did a number on this place.”
“Think they’ll be alright?”
Abel shrugs. “They’ll have to be, kid.”
Second Bob returns with a few more men. They shove a car aside, letting Abel through.
“How’s everyone doing?” Abel asks.
“We rebuilding, mister. I'll get Pa.” He looks over his shoulder and calls out. “Pa! Pa! Abel here.”
Big Ned emerges from behind a half-built shack then runs over to Abel, embracing him in a tight hug, pushing the breath from his lungs. “You want eats?” Big Ned asks, releasing Abel.
Abel takes in a sharp breath and waves a hand. “We've not long eaten. How's the rebuilding going?”
“We building,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “That king got to get got. We got plans.”
“Plans? What kind of plans?”
Big Ned gestures to a couple of men sitting between a pair of burnt-out huts, each whittling a length of pine to a point. “We making new bows. We got spears. We can stab him up. We get him good.”
“Good luck with that,” says David. “They've taken over Trinity.”
“What that?” Big Ned asks, tilting his head.
“It's a settlement a day or so west.” Abel signals the direction with his hand. “They’re good for trade.” Abel shakes his head. “At least, they were.”
“Good eats too,” David says, grinning.
Abel shoots him a glare.
“We got to get our women back. We go get them soon.”
Abel places a hand on Big Ned’s shoulder. “They're too well-organised. They’ve got guns. They’ve got a big fence around them. The chances—”
Big Ned reels back, a snort erupting from his nose. “You think I can't deal with horse man?” he snaps.
Abel shrugs and looks around. Half-melted sheets of blue polythene flap against cracked wood panels. A few men hammer away while others shift corrugated iron sheets, securing them with telephone wires. “You saw what they did last time.”
Big Ned clenches a fist, reaching it back behind his ear, a flash of rage in his eyes. His arm flops to his side, and he shakes his head. “We need to get them,” he says in a softer voice. “We need to get them back.”
“It's over. It's too late.” Abel shakes his head.
“We still alive. If we alive, we fight.”
Sis pulls on Big Ned’s sleeve.
“What you want?”
“Can’t call him horse man. Horse dead.” She pats one of her rifles.
“You kill horse?”
Sis nods. “We ate it. Was good.”
Big Ned smiles, grabs Sis beneath the armpits, and heaves her onto his shoulders, dancing around with her as she squeals. David laughs and smiles. Sis’s screams turn to giggles and Big Ned lifts her back down to the ground. “You do good killing horse. He no horse man now. He just man.”
Sis smiles and looks down at her feet. “Just a man,” she repeats.
“How was the fox?” Abel asks.
Big Ned wrinkles his brow. “Fox?”
“Sure, I brought you a fox. Furry critter. Bit like Mister Fluffy.”
“Critter you brought only had one head—was dead too. Not like Mister Fluffy, but some good eats.”
“I'm glad I could help.”
“Where we find tree tea place?”
“The what?”
“Tree tea, where our women’s at.”
Abel furrows his brow for a moment then nods. “Trinity?”
“That’s what I say.”
“Just follow the highway. It’s a long way. You’ll see it.”
“Go big road?”
“Yep.” Abel points west. “Keep going. You’ll know it when you see it.”
Big Ned faces west, raising his chin. “We got to get them back. I take my men and hunt them like critter.” He spits on the ground. “He just a man now.”
18. Mister Fluffy
It's dusk when Abel spots the tattered red marker hanging from the branch of a dead pine. They make a right off the highway and head through the trees, pushing through ferns and ducking beneath hanging thorns. When they reach the garage, Abel lifts up the shutters, starting at the deep metallic thud when they reach the top.
Looking inside, he flaps away the dust. “I think we should stay the night,” he says. “But then I want to go back and help out at the Grid.”
“Why?” David asks. “We’ve just got home.”
“They’re going to find it real difficult. I was thinking I could take them some tools.”
“Okay,” says David. “I need sleep first though and we need to get clean.”
“Sis, you don't have to come if you don't want to.”
“I want my bike back.”
Abel nods. “Does that mean you want to come?”
“I help.”
“What was all that Mister Fluffy stuff?” David asks, taking off his ba
ckpack and placing into the boat.
Abel chuckles. “Oh, Mister Fluffy.” He shakes his head, grinning. “Remember I told you about that wizard guy I ran with before I met you?”
David nods. “When you took out the Grid? I bet a dozen times.” He smiles at Sis.
“Right,” Abel says, his grin dropping. “Well, before the stuff at the Grid, we tried to get the kids freed down by the city. Near where I met you.”
David nods. “When we buried your dog?”
“Yep.” Abel takes in a tight breath and exhales. “We'd found this quad bike, and it worked.”
“What's quad bike?” asks Sis.
“It was like...it was like, you know that truck? The one the king had? It was like a really small truck to sit on. I think it was meant for a child. It had an engine that still worked. It was a bit like your bike, but with four wheels. About this big.” Abel shows the height, halfway up his thigh. “This wizard guy had a magic show. It wasn’t really magic, he just used to go around, showing people things from before.” Abel shrugs. “Things like light bulbs. People loved it and they’d give him things.”
“What's this got to do with Mister Fluffy?” David asks. “I’m confused.”
“I'm getting to that,” Abel says, raising a hand. “We went to Town. It was the first time I’d been there, and the wizard had this trick where he’d make electricity and attach the wires to a dead frog. The electricity made the frog's legs kick. He told people that he’d brought it back to life. It was just electricity, but it looked pretty good.”
“He bought the frog back to life?” asks David, eyebrows raised.
“No, no, no. That's just what he told people. And so when were at Town, Big Ned brought out this thing.” Abel shrugs. “He'd made it out of different animals. It had a fox’s body, a squirrel’s tail, and about a dozen rats’ heads sewn into its neck hole.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It was. Believe me, it was.”
“Big Ned asked the wizard to bring Mister Fluffy to life. I mean, he’d just seen the frog, right? Why not?”
“What did you do?”
“He said yes,” Abel says, shrugging. “So we took Mister Fluffy with us.”
“I don't understand. What’s this got to do with a quad bike?”
Abel laughs. “We strapped Mister Fluffy to the quad bike and used it as a distraction when we tried to rescue those kids. It would have worked, but the other people from the Family came out on boats from the city.”
“Right,” David says, making a face.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Sounds a bit far-fetched. You sure you’re not making it up?”
“No, no. The best part is when I went back to Town. It ended up a couple of the kids who we actually rescued from there said they'd seen Mister Fluffy, so they believed he was alive.”
“Is that why they like you?”
“Yep. I haven't got the heart to tell them what really happened.”
David lets out a long laugh. Sis joins in.
“It does sound kind of ridiculous when I think about it,” Abel says, smiling. “But seriously, we should get cleaned up, get prepared, get a good night’s sleep, and eat. We’ll get back on the road early tomorrow. Think you guys can manage that?”
David and Sis nod.
TREES RUSTLE AROUND them as Abel, David, and Sis approach the gorge’s edge, its sides glowing orange with the midday sun.
“I try to find this place,” says Sis.
“The cave?” Abel asks.
Sis stops and takes in a shuddering breath. “Becca bring me here. We wash and find water. I try to find it lots of times. Could never find it.”
Stepping forward, David drops down onto the trail first, Sis and Abel following close behind. They walk with their right hands pressed against the rocks as tiny stones fall into the river far below.
The cave’s jagged mouth opens before them. Looking inside, they follow the sound of trickling water as it echoes around the tunnel, its rocky sides glistening with a faint fungal glow.
Abel sniffs at the cold air, the smell of damp rocks. Reaching the water, he slips off his boots and drops his socks and T-shirts into the water. David and Sis do the same as Abel fills up a pair of bottles, his hands burning against the icy flow.
“It's really cold today,” David says.
“Yep. We'd best get cleaned up. I always feel like I’ve got a layer of grime stuck to me after I've been on the roads.”
Sis stands half-dressed, shivering and staring into the water. Her eyes well up with tears.
“Hey,” Abel says. “What's up?”
There's a long silence and Sis sniffs and splashes water against her face. “Becca.”
“What happened to her?” David asks.
“It's okay if you don't want to answer,” says Abel, shaking his head at David.
“It's okay,” Sis says, swallowing. “I miss her.”
“Was it raiders?” David asks.
“We had a place. Three men come to take food and everything. Becca tried to fight them...” Sis's voice trails off and she takes in a long breath. “She made me hide in cupboard. They ripped her clothes and shoved into her. She kept screaming, and they kept laughing. They kept shoving into her and hitting her and then she stopped screaming.”
Abel and David share a look, David's mouth gaping.
“Really sorry to hear that, Sis. There are some horrible people out there.”
“Was she dead?” David asks.
Sis shakes her head and sighs. “That night she did. She made me go and then shot herself with rifle.”
“And you've been alone ever since?” Abel asks.
“Becca taught me to shoot. Men came back...” She shakes her head and looks into the water. “I kill them.”
“Were they your first?”
Sis nods. “I didn't want them to shove into me...” She slumps down onto a rock and looks up at Abel.
“You don't have to justify yourself to me, Sis. You did what you had to.”
“I'm glad you're not like them.”
Abel lets out a bitter laugh. “Me too.”
THE SUN HANGS LOW IN the sky, prickling the edges of feathery clouds with an orange glow. Sis stops a few metres ahead of Abel, crouching over something. She lingers over it for a moment, tilting her head.
“What is it?” David asks.
“Poo.”
“So?”
“Fresh.”
Abel looks around, scanning beyond the highway. Bony pines stand in a haphazard cluster, stretching to the south until they meet the edge of a slow-moving stream. He walks over to Sis and looks down at the stool. “That's a dog's.”
Sis turns to him, getting to her feet. “How can you tell?”
“The smell, for one thing. Nothing else smells like that.”
Sis pulls a rifle from over her shoulder, sweeping it in a broad arc to the south. She takes in a breath, holds it, and then pulls the trigger. The rifle cracks, its recoil pushing her shoulder back. “One dog,” she says, lowering the barrel and gesturing beyond the pines. “We should get it.”
Abel raises a hand. “Wait,” he says. “You sure there aren't any more?”
“I didn't see anything. We keep watch.”
David looks up at the sky and then down towards where the dog lies. “We should try to find somewhere to camp. We can eat that dog.”
Abel shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “You can, kid.”
Sis hops off the highway's edge, and Abel and David follow. “Why you not want food?” Sis asks, turning to Abel as she shoulders her way between a pair of dead pines.
“He had a word for it,” David says. He turns to Abel. “What's that word for when you do something, even though it might be stupid, but there's a meaning?”
Abel shrugs a shoulder. “I don't know, kid.”
“Sure you do. Sentimental. That's the word, isn't it?”
Sis stops and looks back at David. “What you
mean?”
“Abel won't eat dogs because he used to have one.”
“Food is food,” Sis says.
Abel sighs and follows David through the trees, dipping his head as he passes a low-hanging branch. “It's not that simple, kid.”
“Of course it is. Your dog died. You miss your dog. You won't eat dogs.” David tilts his head. “Isn't that being sentimental?”
“It's still moving,” Sis says, kneeling next to the dog. She places a hand on its bloody grey fur, its breath wheezing through a bullet wound in its neck. She prods its mouth. “Sharp teeth.”
“Damn it,” Abel mutters, crouching next to Sis. He cradles the dog’s head in his arms, squeezing it between his biceps and forearm. The dog twitches, its hind legs kicking as it gasps its final breath. Abel releases the head and looks around. “You want to gather some sticks, kid? Here's as good as anywhere to camp.”
THE BUTCHERED DOG LIES next to the fire as Abel places its skinned hind legs onto a trio of stones arranged near the centre of the flames.
“You sure you’re not going to eat?” David asks, sitting cross-legged with his back to the fire.
Abel sighs and pats his backpack. “I got a tin.”
“You know, without Trinity, you’re going to have to be less fussy about the type of meat we eat. This is good stuff.”
“I still miss her,” Abel says, dropping his pack and crouching on bended knees. “I can't bring myself...”
“It's not like you're actually eating Pip though, is it?” David meets Abel’s gaze.
“Well, no.”
“So, what is it?”
Abel shrugs. “I don't know.”
“Then you're being sentimental. It's that simple. You said yourself, Pip wasn't like these dogs.”
“I suppose.” Abel lets out a sigh and reaches for a stick to poke the fire. “Just feels wrong.”
David shakes his head. “It's up to you. If I were you, I think about winter. It's going to be even harder to get the food we need.”
“I get it, kid. I'll try it.”
David raises his eyebrows and smiles up at Abel. “Really?”
“Yep. We need to do what we need to survive. Can't be holding on to sentimental things.”
