by Van Badham
66
‘Literally any girl in the school would eat her pants to be you tonight,’ said Michelle as soon as I reached her. The two of us walked back outside to get another drink.
‘Even after what he did to Garth?’ I said.
‘Especially, maybe,’ said Michelle. ‘It’s not like Garth is Mr Nice Yarrindi.’
‘You think that’s true what Belinda said? About the guys apologising?’ I was looking in the distance, where I saw some minimal start-up activity involving a second bonfire was taking place. There were flashes of flame as a small crowd of people tried to set something alight.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ said Michelle. ‘If Gretchen’s parents don’t get that fire out pretty quickly. He’s on the board of the surf club. Her dad. That’s why they got this place – otherwise, no teenage parties.’
We got drinks and drank them silently against the rail, watching the moonlight flicker on the ocean. There were couples still kissing behind us on the spent dance floor.
Michelle, I noticed, looked sad.
‘Is Dan coming tonight?’ I asked.
She shook her head. ‘He wasn’t invited.’
‘I think you can do better,’ I said to her. Michelle stared into her can of drink. I gestured with my hand towards the crowd gathered around the big bonfire. ‘You’ve got an entire beach of the undead to choose from. Vamps, creeps, weirdos, zombies … Evil monks … Or there’s some guy who I think’s dressed as a horse.’ I stared at a guy who did seem to be wearing a horse’s head.
‘Where’s Nikki going by herself?’ Michelle said, looking towards the catsuited figure ambling towards an unlit part of the beach.
‘Second bonfire?’
‘Urgh, maybe something’s gone weird with Ryan – I’d better join them. Good luck with Brody,’ Michelle said, squeezing my hand and kissing me on the cheek. ‘Don’t do anything that every single girl in the school wouldn’t do.’ She swung from the railing to the stairs leading down to the beach. ‘I hope they don’t get a second bonfire going,’ she said, stepping into the sand. ‘I don’t know about you, but I am getting really fed up with all this ash.’
67
I was still leaning over the rail, and had just hit ‘Send’ on a second check-in text message to my dad, when someone lightly tapped my shoulder and gave me an electric shock. I squawked, stood bolt upright and blushed when I realised it was Brody Meine.
My lips swelled and my cheeks burned just at the sight of him.
He’d had a shower and his wet hair was combed behind his ears. He wore a clean grey T-shirt with his black jeans. ‘Where’s your entourage?’ he said.
Dusting away more flakes of ash from my arms, I tilted my head towards the second bonfire. ‘Getting ready to burn witches.’
‘And that’s you?’
‘Not tonight,’ I said, glancing down at my chest. ‘I wrote witch on myself with eyeliner but it rubbed off.’
‘How will they know who to burn then?’
‘They’ll just pick you,’ I said, gazing off at the second fire – smaller, now burning – in the distance. ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t go down there.’
‘I’ve said all I have to say to those people – I’m not giving them a right of reply. Of course, I would love to hang out with Belinda.’
‘Well, her boyfriend’s not here,’ I said, folding my arms over my stomach and risking a glance in his eyes. ‘Not that that kind of thing stops you.’
‘I know – I’m a real heartbreaker.’ He copied my folded arms and stared through his fringe, almost smiling. I noticed that around his neck he wore a leather crucifix on a cord.
‘Yo, Brode.’ Brody and I both turned at the sound of Al approaching. ‘We’ve got this thing to go to … I’ve put all your stuff in the car, I’ll drop it home before we head out.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ Brody said.
‘He forgets he doesn’t own a car,’ Al said to me, smiling.
‘I’ll come with you and walk back,’ Brody offered.
‘Too late, it’s taken care of,’ said Al, before he turned back to me. ‘You’re Sophie, right?’
Brody threw his head back and sighed.
‘Hi,’ I said, mildly thrilled by Brody’s embarrassment. ‘Liked the, you know, band – thing.’
‘See if you can keep him out of trouble tonight,’ Al said, and added, to Brody, ‘Gretchen’s dad gave us some money for the gig.’ He reached for something his pocket.
‘He didn’t have to do that – she’s Shane’s cousin.’
‘He didn’t have to but he did,’ said Al, seizing Brody’s hand and squishing a parcel of notes in it.
Brody looked at what Al had given him and shoved it into his own pocket. ‘This is so unnecessary,’ he said, really looking embarrassed now.
‘Use it wisely,’ said Al, slapping Brody’s hand. ‘You played well tonight.’
‘I played Britney Spears,’ Brody said.
‘Good gig’s a good gig. See you at home,’ he said, walking away, then, with a friendly smile, ‘You’re welcome too, Sophie. Maybe see you later on.’
Brody and I stood in awkward, blushing silence as Al left the building.
When he was gone, Brody turned to me and said, in a quick breath, ‘Wanna go for a walk or something?’
‘Yes. Yes, I do,’ I said, clumsily attempting to lead the way.
68
We didn’t speak as we walked across the deck, down the stairs, and onto the sand. ‘Great gig, Brody,’ said someone as we turned the corner. He just nodded. In the couple of seconds it took my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I hoped that I could both find the stairs that led to the road and keep my balance on my heels. I was so aware of how close Brody was when I grasped the rail of the stairs that my heart was thumping. Feeling nervous, exposed, I put my cardigan and my jacket back on.
We climbed the stairs, still not speaking, brushing past a kissing couple it was too dark to identify. I tried to breathe normally as we emerged from the staircase and took some steps onto the road, but I felt so light and dizzy I half-thought my legs would give way under me. Still not speaking, we made our way across the front of the clubhouse and its car park.
‘There’s a viewing platform over some rocks up ahead,’ Brody said. ‘Want to go there?’
‘Sure,’ I said, clutching my pendant.
Our feet trudged through gravel as we made our way alongside the road. A lone streetlight illuminated a parking area a couple of hundred metres up ahead. I recognised it from my night flying over the coastline. Beneath the streetlight, I presumed, was where we were heading.
‘You’ve been playing guitar for a while?’ I said, shoving my hands into the shallow jacket pockets.
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘a while.’
‘You’re good.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You want to be a guitarist? Play in bands?’
‘That’s the dream.’ He added, a little sadly, ‘Can’t happen, though.’
‘Why not?’
There was a pause. ‘Oh, being in front of people.’
‘You did all right tonight.’
‘At Gretchen Eighfield’s seventeenth birthday party. Bit different when you’re playing stadium concerts and tours.’
‘You could do it.’
‘Not the media thing, I couldn’t. The magazines and press appearances … Al’s got some friends who’ve done it – you don’t get—’ I could hear him choosing his words. ‘I cherish my privacy.’ he said.
‘More than playing guitar?’
Brody gave a bitter laugh. ‘Probably not, but “rock star” still isn’t a realistic career choice.’
‘What are you going to do when you leave school?’
‘Music journalism, maybe.’
‘I thought you wanted to stay away from publicity.’ I remembered Jenny Kent’s words on my doorstep: Your friend, Brody – he does have a reason to keep a low profile.
‘They don’t ask many questions of the pe
ople asking the questions,’ he said. ‘What do you plan to do when you leave school?’
‘I haven’t thought about it,’ I confessed. ‘I like Art, I like English … I like movies. Maybe something in the film industry? Not that I’d know where to start.’
‘Maybe you could intern with Belinda’s dad. That’s his line of work, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, maybe I could make her my new best friend and hate myself for the rest of my life. What’s wrong?’
Brody had stopped walking. ‘You hear something?’ he said, not moving his head.
I froze. The night air was still. Some ash landed on my face. I brushed it away. Crickets chirped near us. In the distance, the sounds of the party mixed with the rhythm of the waves crashing on the shore. ‘Frogs?’ I asked, hearing one.
‘Frogs are great,’ said Brody. ‘Keep moving.’
We walked without talking again. Brody took my jacket sleeve and edged me away from the road. ‘There’s a path down there,’ he said, pointing towards a bank of spinifex between the road and the beach. ‘Scenic route. You right in those shoes?’
He held my arm through the jacket as we walked into the spindly grass. I noticed we were above where the second bonfire had been lit.
Brody didn’t let go of my arm.
‘Something’s wrong,’ I whispered. ‘Should we go back?’
‘Keep walking,’ he said, almost inaudibly, guiding me down the slope of the bank. I stumbled on my heels but Brody caught me before I fell. Just feeling his warm arms and chest through my clothes caused me to lose my breath. My pendant seemed to fizz against my skin.
‘You okay?’ he whispered.
I nodded. He let go of my body but kept hold of my arm as we stumbled down the slope. When we were through the spinifex, we stepped onto a path that ran along the bottom of the bank.
‘Now keep walking,’ he said, retracting his arms.
What a few minutes ago had been a heart thumping with I’m-with-Brody excitement was now a heart thumping with fear. When a car passed on the road overhead I almost leaped out of my skin.
Brody came to a halt.
‘What’s going on?’ I whispered, wiping more ash from my face.
He stopped me walking. ‘When they jump,’ he said, his lips almost against my ear, ‘I’m going to push you off the path, into the bushes. You get out of sight and you stay there. Whatever happens, stay still until I come and find you.’
I heard a rock skitter down the slope, followed by something like muffled voices.
‘When who jumps?’ I said.
Brody gripped my hair and pulled me towards the ground. I was too frightened to notice if it hurt. Something flew over my head and hit the path.
A rock.
I felt blue electricity crackle under Brody’s grip, but he didn’t let go of me. Another rock flew and landed. Then another.
‘What—?’ I coughed, but Brody’s hand muffled my mouth. Tiny blue bolts of energy rippled where our skin touched.
We crouched in the dark, then I heard what Brody had already.
At least three people, maybe four, crawling out of the spinifex, onto the path.
Another rock flew. It hit Brody’s shoulder, but he didn’t make a sound.
‘And that one’s for Garth,’ said a voice.
I didn’t get to judge for myself how far away they were – with a heave of his arms, Brody pushed me off the path and I rolled into darkness.
69
I heard them walking up to him, but no one was speaking. The voice I’d heard before was Jared, I was sure it was. Something scraped on the road; someone moved forward, someone else was darting back. Then I heard something fly through the air, like a baseball bat swing. Something wooden hit flesh with a smack. Someone groaned – not Brody.
Slowly, I gripped handfuls of the long tough grass and hauled myself up towards the path. The piece of wood swung again – a softer smack, more scraping on the road.
A kick. Another groan. I took handfuls of grass and hauled myself higher – my face was almost level to the path.
Repeated hits. A body fell to the ground. Something flying through the air again. A collision, a struggle. A gasp – definitely Brody, this time. Something collapsing. My eyes peeped over the spinifex. Brody was on the ground. So was someone else.
Someone had a plank of wood in their hand – they were trying to pummel it into Brody where he lay. The first thrust, Brody kicked it off target. The guy wielding it stumbled, thrown off balance. One of the others threw himself on Brody, Brody pushed the guy off his chest. The guy with the plank was upright again; someone kicked Brody in the leg. Brody grunted, just managing to grab the end of the plank of wood as the guy tried to ram it into his chest.
My forehead was wet with anger. This was the night the Finders had gone. This was the night of me in the black dress. This was my night with Brody.
No one was going to take it away from me.
My growl distracted all four of the guys attacking Brody. Brody seized the opportunity to roll himself into another guy’s legs, punching him in the shin and knocking him off his feet. He grabbed the plank of wood from the wielder’s grip and belted the guy in the face with it. The other two guys threw themselves on Brody and managed to wrestle him to the ground. Brody wouldn’t let go of the wooden plank.
I leaped from the spinifex on four paws, gurgling with rage. One of the wounded guys who saw me as I landed let out a pathetic cry. The two guys on Brody didn’t let go of him to look at me; a single hop and I swung a hit into the jaw of the one closest to me. Flung over the other guy’s back, he hit the ground, unconscious. As Brody struggled under the weight of the guy on top of him, I swiped my claws into his attacker’s ribs, wresting him from Brody, his shirt slashed as he also rolled to the ground, bleeding from surface wounds in his chest and back as I smacked his head with a hard paw to knock him out as well.
Brody levered himself to his feet by driving the wooden plank into the ground and I turned on the two remaining attackers, rearing on my back paws with a growl. One threw himself into the lower bank of spinifex and forced himself to roll down its slope. The other I pounced on, grabbing him by the shoulder with my muzzle and throwing him after his friend. I felt flesh between my teeth, his skin tearing at the shoulder as I unclamped my jaw and let him fall.
There was blood on my mouth. I was licking it off when I felt a painful thump in my back. Roaring, I turned around – and almost knocked down Brody before I realised it was him slapping the wooden plank into my back. He swung at my face but I deflected the plank with a swipe that shattered the wood like a snapped twig. I tried to say, ‘Brody, it’s me’, but the words came out in an ursine gurgle.
I dropped onto my front paws and tried to enact some kind of gesture of supplication, but Brody, machine-quick, had grabbed the broken end of the plank; it was by instinct alone that I managed to knock him down before he rammed the splintered wood into my eye. Brody was scrambling to his feet when I lurched forward and shouldered him into the ground again, resting my weight on his body to try to keep him still. Brody wriggled under me, managing to clamp a hand onto my ear and tear at it painfully until I whacked him in the side of the face with my muzzle and he let go. I rolled to my side, Brody still under me, still wriggling, but with his hands and legs pinned under my heaving body.
My weight was on his lungs and I could hear he was panting, struggling to breathe. I was panting too – guttural, animal breaths that, as they grew shorter, grew more human. The fur dissolved and my skin and clothes returned. As my weight lightened, though, so did my ability to contain Brody. Even as he neared unconsciousness, when Brody sensed the weight of the bear was no longer pinning him down, he flipped me onto my back and was on top of me immediately, his hands around my throat as his weight now pressed me into the dirt.
‘It’s me!’ I spluttered, trying to dislodge his hands from my throat. ‘Brody, it’s me!’ I cried. My throat crackled with sharp blue veins of magic, as if steel pins were be
ing rammed into my skin.
He snapped back his hands and sat up. ‘I told you not to move!’ he barked. He jumped to his feet. ‘There’s an animal – there’s an animal here – it’s not safe!’
I stood up slowly, stroking my bruised and stinging throat.
‘It’s me,’ I said.
‘Did you see it?’ he cried. ‘God, Sophie, I could have killed you.’ He leaped towards me, grabbing the lapels of my dusty jacket. ‘I could have bloody killed you!’ He let go of my lapels, but kept a grip of my jacket sleeve. ‘We have to get out of here – warn people – there’s this animal, this bear—’
‘Brody, it’s me!’ I said, trying to snatch his attention by yanking the fabric of his grey T-shirt towards me. ‘The thing that came out of the grass is me – it’s me, I’m the bear! It shouldn’t be possible, but it is. The fire wasn’t possible, the windows, the crows – everything, all of it’s me. I promised to tell you, I’m telling you now.’
Brody’s ears flicked to something. There were sounds of panic coming from the direction of the second bonfire. Brody’s arms shot protectively around me. His breathing was fast, hard. ‘They’ll be coming for us – for these guys,’ he said, nodding towards the two guys on the ground. ‘What do we do?’ Anxiety rippled his voice. ‘Tell me what to do!’
I pulled myself out of his arms and seized him by the wrist, provoking another burning blue crackle on my skin. ‘There are caves, in the cliffs past the rocks and the streetlamp. We’ll go there. I’ll tell you everything. Everything, Brody.’
Brody grabbed me and pulled me to his chest. He nestled my head into his shoulder and he kissed the crown of my head. Blue sparks fizzed around my hair.
We had to stop touching. With every point of contact the blue bolts seemed to be brighter, louder. I stepped away from him.
‘Let’s get away from here,’ I said.
First we walked, then marched and then we ran. We sprinted near blind along the path, in the direction of the rocks and the caves.
