‘What did you do?’ I asked again.
His smile vanished, so quickly that I thought I must have imagined it.
‘Please, Bill, let it go. I’m not that man anymore.’
And then a deafening roar tore through the air, killing the lights, plunging the cellblock into darkness.
My mouth fell open in what I imagine was a perfectly round O. Struck dumb and blind, for a moment I stupidly wondered whether the darkness was actually a new symptom of the numbness that Tobe’s confession had brought forth. The lights flickered briefly and then darkness returned, convincing me otherwise.
A siren started to sound, loud enough to reach us in the cellblock. Another roar tore through the air.
‘Bill, mate, got a light?’
Of course …
‘You bastard …’ I muttered, unable to help myself.
I shook myself together and fumbled around in my pockets. I pulled out Tobe’s antique lighter then sparked it up. Tobe looked all the worse in its flickering glow—dark shadows pooled under his hollow eyes, the folds and lines of his haggard face were cut deeper than ever, old bruises on mottled skin that was pale from being locked indoors too long.
‘How about a smoke?’ he asked.
With my free hand, I reached into my pocket, pulled out his possum skin pouch, passed it over. It was almost an automatic reflex. I hated myself for it.
‘Cheers.’
‘Tobe?’
‘Hang on a sec, first things first.’
I decided to allow him that, letting him finish rolling some bush tobacco. I held the lighter out, watched him hold the smoke to the flame. I felt a certain satisfaction as he proceeded to cough his guts up.
‘Ugh,’ he groaned, doubled over. ‘I forgot how long it’s been.’
I couldn’t help laughing.
‘Yeah, very funny, thanks a lot.’
I laughed again. Tobe pulled himself together, bent back up, ground his bush tobacco out, tucked the dead nub behind his ear. He looked me in the eye and smiled an easy smile.
It was almost like old times.
‘How about my keys?’ he asked, spoiling the moment. ‘Did you bring them too?’
My gears might grind slowly—sometimes too slowly—but they grind on all the same. Things were starting to make sense: the bits and bobs that he had left me; running into Jacko so quickly, so easily; the deafening roar happening at the same time as we were finally allowed to visit.
The ‘how’ might not have been clear, but the ‘why’ was slowly taking shape.
‘You did this?’ I screamed, waving at the gloom. ‘You’ve been planning this the whole time?’
He didn’t answer me.
‘How?’
Without speaking, he broke my gaze. I turned my back on him, not knowing what I was going to do, only that I couldn’t bear to look at him.
‘Bill!’
Anger and hate flooded through me yet again—I had followed him, as mates do, only to be played the fool. But that’s me, a dickhead to the last.
‘Bill, please.’
I didn’t answer, didn’t turn around.
‘Mate, I know what this looks like. But you have to believe me, I am sorry. That’s why this is happening. I know I can’t make things right, but at least consider it an attempt.’
‘Bullshit.’
The words hung in the air for a moment.
‘Fine, then, enjoy your stay,’ he said. ‘If you hadn’t realised it, I’m not the only one locked in here.’
I thought about it for a moment. Despite everything that had happened, I couldn’t help smiling at the fact that he was still a step ahead of me.
‘You win.’
I carefully sat Tobe’s lighter on the desk, turned back to him, pulled his jangle of keys from my pocket.
‘Good one,’ he said. ‘Let’s have a look.’
I passed the keys through the bars. Tobe thumbed through them, picked out a rusty one that seemed the same as all the others, passed them back. I kept my face blank. I was done with the cellblock; I wanted to get outside so that I could be done with Tobe as well.
I inserted the key into the lock. I was barely surprised when the door sprang open.
‘Wait for my next trick,’ Tobe said. He pushed past me, started rifling through the desk. ‘Aha,’ he said, pulling something from one of the drawers. ‘You beauty.’
He flicked on a torch. I scooped the lighter up, snapped it shut, slipped it in my pocket, another automatic reflex.
‘Here you go,’ he said, passing me a second torch.
I passed him the keys in return, glad to be rid of them, and he hurried to the door. I brought my own torch to life, deciding to let him lead the way. Until we were free of the courthouse, it couldn’t hurt to have a human shield. The thought, bitter as it was, made me feel a little better.
‘Got you,’ Tobe said, finding the right key. He threw the door open, revealing the rough-brick stairwell and the rusty flight of stairs.
‘How?’ I asked again.
‘I worked here, remember? And you know me, always thinking ahead.’
It was such a pitiful explanation. I deserved more, but I knew not to get my hopes up. Everything had changed and I would just have to deal with it.
And so I watched as Tobe thundered up the stairs. I hurried after him, doing my best to keep him in sight, following him into the long corridor that led to the lobby. Like the stairwell and the cellblock, it was dark.
The acrid tang of smoke tainted the air.
‘Come on, Bill,’ Tobe shouted. ‘Or you’ll miss all the fun.’
He was nothing but a bobbing dot of light at the end of the corridor. I picked up my pace, not to please him but because I wanted to get outside as soon as I could, before some Creep stumbled upon me. The lobby grew ever closer; I rushed through the open door.
I came to an immediate halt—my torch was a pitiful thing that barely dented the gloom; there was no sign of Tobe; I was completely exposed; standing out like the proverbial.
And then I was suddenly blinded.
‘Good, it’s you.’
Tobe stopped shining his torch in my face. He stood on the other side of the cluttered room, in front of the doors that led outside. He flicked his torch off and slipped it in his pocket, taking hold of the doorknob.
He looked at me. He smiled wickedly.
‘Come on, Bill, what are you waiting for? Bloody Christmas?’
And then he disappeared through the door.
Twenty-Two
I followed Tobe into a newborn hell on earth—twilight had fallen while we had been in the cell block, its eerie pink and purple glow playing second fiddle to immense tongues of flame that leaped into the air. The full moon on the horizon was a dull smudge, struggling to cut through the billowing clouds of smoke. The street in front of me—the wide boulevard that cut the camp in half—was completely empty. A shot rang out. Without thinking, I ducked behind one of the towering stone columns that helped give the courthouse its bygone air. More gunfire rang out: the harsh crack of a rifle, the rat-a-tat-tat of some kind of machine gun, the thunderclap of a shotgun.
I couldn’t see who was shooting, couldn’t see who was being shot at.
‘Tobe!’ I yelled.
No answer.
Something exploded to the left of me, throwing me off my feet. I scrabbled back up as fast as I could, looked around, saw that someone had lobbed a Molotov or a jerry-rigged equivalent through one of the courthouse windows, setting fire to its insides.
‘Come on!’ a voice screamed.
Someone was running across the street, heading for the courthouse steps, a half-dozen people trailing behind. In the flickering light they were a shambling horde, holding aloft broken branches, pieces of wood, and lengths of metal. There wasn’t a real weapon to be seen.
‘Bastards!’ their leader yelled, loud enough to be heard over the gunfire.
More shots rang out, sparks kicking up brightly off the street. The mob of
holdouts started to fall, one by one. I guessed there were Creeps on a roof somewhere, snipers happily plying their trade. For all I knew, they were on the roof above me. I watched helplessly as one of the felled holdouts twitched, groaned, started screaming. Another shot rang out. The holdout fell still.
Blood pooled around the bodies. My stomach heaved. I tasted bile.
‘Tobe!’ I yelled again.
‘For fuck’s sake, Bill, keep it down.’
I looked to my left. Nothing. I looked to my right.
‘Jacko?’
It was a stupid question; I recognised him straightaway. If I had been a little more clearheaded, his presence might have made some kind of sense, conforming to the nightmare logic that the day had imposed.
But I wasn’t clearheaded. I was terrified.
‘Come on,’ Jacko said. ‘Tobe’s waiting.’
I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. ‘You what?’
‘We go way back, Tobe and I. That’s how long I’ve been here.’ Jacko patted the courthouse, almost affectionately. ‘Who do you think helped make this happen?’ he asked, waving at the warzone the camp had become.
He smiled to himself. He fiddled with something in the pocket of his coat. I looked harder, saw a furry little snout sticking out of it. Jude worked the rest of his head free and then growled at me. Jacko reached down, gave him another pat and another scratch, managed to settle him down.
And then Jacko took off, hugging the wall, keeping out of the Creeps’ line of sight. I was overwhelmed by the temptation to seek shelter away from Tobe’s madness and instead hopefully ride out the chaos he had unleashed in some kind of peace. But I wanted to see Ruby, even if—as I feared—it was just to say goodbye.
I didn’t care about farewelling Tobe.
Jacko was surprisingly fleet of foot for an old man, already disappearing down one of the alleys leading to the square. I hurried after him. A mob of people were already streaming in the opposite direction; it was as if the courthouse was a magnet for their pent-up hate. I stopped at the mouth of the alley, remembering the Creeps on the roof. I tried to warn the mob, to keep them back. Instead, I was shouldered aside, my words drowned out by their screams of anger and hate.
Another explosion lit up the sky.
It was so bright that I shut my eyes involuntarily. When its pulsing red afterimage had faded, I saw that the mob was now pouring into the street, completely exposed. All I could do was watch as they were cut down.
‘Forget them,’ Jacko said, taking my arm. He literally pulled me into the alley.
I stumbled, found my feet, and followed him. Panicked people pushed and shoved, not knowing where they were going or what they were doing, stirred up by the clouds of acrid smoke.
We kept on. The further into the camp we pushed, the more the crowds thinned out.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, breathing heavily. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘People are either fighting or hiding, same as it ever was.’
And then we turned a corner, entering another alley whose far end was ablaze. The air itself was hotter than the midday sun, the kiln-dry wood of the shantytown shacks the perfect fuel for a firestorm. Jude whined to himself; I could somehow hear it over the noise of people screaming, crying, calling names into the inferno. More people were inside the burning buildings—some staggered back and forth, at one with the flames, while others moved more purposefully.
Someone suddenly burst free. They collapsed in the street, dropping a bundle they were carrying.
Their clothes were smoking, smouldering, ablaze. Someone else threw a blanket over them, started patting them down. The bundle moved. I heard a baby cry. I took a step forward. Someone beat me to it, picking up the poor little thing, cuddling them tight.
Jacko took my arm again, pulled me away, leading us into yet another alley.
Through holes in the walls of some of the junkyard homes, I saw families cowering in fear. Through others, I saw looters picking through abandoned possessions. The vulture-hunger that spurred them on knew no bounds, no decency. We turned another corner, entered another alley.
‘Where are you taking me?’ I asked.
Jacko laughed. ‘Where do you reckon?’
Half-blinded by shock, I hadn’t realised that we were in ‘our’ alley. I saw the tattered curtain that sealed off Jacko’s shack, a dull light spilling from underneath it. We drew up to the shack. Sweat was dripping off me; not the sweat of exertion, but that of panic and fear. Jacko knocked shave-and-a-haircut on the splintered doorjamb, shoved me though the curtain.
‘G’day, Bill.’
Tobe stood there smiling, holding his hand out for me to shake. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder, a pistol in his belt.
Despite all that, I punched him in the face as hard I as I could.
‘Fuck you.’
I flexed my hand; punching him had really hurt. Tobe rocked on his heels but didn’t fall back. He reached up, wiped blood off his lip. I ignored him, looking at Ruby instead. She was standing behind him. She was armed as well.
She smiled at me, a sad little thing that told me everything I needed to know.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked.
She nodded, looking like she wanted to cry.
‘You sure?’
‘No worries.’
I winked at her. I forced myself to look away—she needed affirmation, needed to know that her choice was okay, needed to know that we all thought she was tough enough to make it. We all did, of course. But it was time that she did too—there was no getting away from the fact that she had chosen to stick with Tobe.
It could have been worse—Tobe might have been a monster, but I was pretty sure that he would die for her if that’s what it took to keep her safe.
‘Now, Bill, here’s the plan,’ Tobe said.
I looked at him without speaking. He looked like he was suppressing a smile; he had a knowing glint in his eye, as if this was all a bit of a lark.
‘You have got to be joking,’ I said.
He frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’
It wasn’t a rhetorical question; there wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or humour in his voice.
I almost felt sorry for him.
‘Tobe, if you reckon that I’m going to …’
‘We’ve got trouble,’ Jacko said, cutting me off.
I had completely forgotten about him, and turned to look at him. Something had frightened him—his eyes were wide, his frown etched deep, his hands shook a little. Jude, who was still tucked into one Jacko’s pockets, raised his head. He whined softly, sensing Jacko’s fear.
‘What up?’ Tobe asked Jacko.
‘See for yourself.’
Tobe shouldered me aside and joined Jacko by the curtain.
‘Creeps. Shit.’
I took a step back, feeling naked without a weapon. Tobe pulled out his pistol, levelled it at the curtain. Ruby did the same. Jacko absently reached into his pocket, started patting Jude.
No one spoke. The silence stretched on. It must have only been a few seconds long, but that’s not how it felt. I groaned, unable to help myself. From the corner of my eye, I saw Tobe smile.
He was enjoying himself. I hated him. But I didn’t have time to dwell on the thought—a solitary Creep flicked the curtain aside and strode into the room.
I waited for something to happen, but no one moved.
‘There’s nothing here, sir,’ the Creep yelled over her shoulder. ‘I guess we were too late.’ She looked up at Tobe. She smiled shyly.
‘Good one, Grace,’ Tobe whispered. ‘Catch you down at the rail yard, okay?’
‘Yeah, you bet,’ she mouthed, letting the curtain fall back.
‘What?’
‘Sh.’
Tobe, Ruby and Jacko said it together, a muted choir. I shut my mouth, heard the crunch of heavy boots outside the shack. I looked at Tobe. He was counting on his fingers, a vicious smile on his face.
‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’
he whispered.
Jacko took Tobe’s arm, caught Tobe’s eye, shook his head.
Tobe frowned, pulling away from Jacko’s grip. ‘I’ve got this,’ he whispered.
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid.’
Tobe took a step forward. Jacko grabbed him again.
‘Don’t fucking touch me!’ Tobe yelled furiously, forgetting everything else.
Same old Tobe …
Jacko’s face fell. It was easy to understand why; I too hoped that no one else had heard Tobe’s rash venting of all the hate and madness I had only just come to know. But it didn’t really matter—without even checking that the way ahead was clear, Tobe rushed through the curtain.
‘You stupid bastard,’ Jacko said.
We all reluctantly followed Tobe into the alley. I knew that I would never have a better opportunity to slip away and be done with him forever, but I made a split-second decision, choosing to follow him in order to see that Ruby got away safely.
I knew that I might regret it. I didn’t really care.
The alley was empty. I breathed a sigh of relief, and we fell into a rough single-file line behind Tobe. He had drawn his pistol, was sweeping it back and forth. Ruby brought up the rear, awkwardly walking backwards, making sure no one snuck up on us.
The gun looked absurdly big in her small hand. It shook a little.
‘How we doing back there?’ Tobe asked her.
‘All clear.’ Her voice shook as well.
Tobe took his eyes off the metaphorical prize and looked back at her, his gaze passing over Jacko and I as if we weren’t even there.
‘Don’t worry, she’ll be ‘right.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Ruby didn’t sound convinced.
Tobe brought us to a halt. Jacko and I groaned aloud.
‘I know what I’m doing, okay?’
‘Tobe,’ Ruby said. ‘Calm down.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do! Look, do you want out of here or not?’
‘Yeah, but …’
‘Then shut up and do as …’
A lone Creep sauntered into the alley, presumably drawn by one of Tobe’s fits of rage. The Creep didn’t have a weapon in his hand—he was either a rookie or arrogant enough to think that a desperate mob of holdouts wasn’t really a problem.
The Rain Never Came Page 21
