Attention residents of New City. A strict curfew is now in place. For your own safety, stay indoors until further notice.
The message echoed around the city, again and again.
The wind continued to whip snowflakes into swirling currents. Xavier closed the window against the cold as more Armavans left the Garrison.
The warning continued: For your own safety, stay indoors until further notice.
‘We need to find out what’s going on,’ Isabella said.
‘But they’re never going to let us out,’ Griffin argued. ‘Two soldiers arrived after you left and are just outside the door.’
Xavier grinned. ‘A minor detail.’
‘Two soldiers with tranquilliser guns are a “minor detail”.’
‘For us it is.’
‘What’s your plan?’ Isabella asked.
‘All those Armavans on the streets mean very few soldiers in here.’ Xavier rubbed his hands. ‘All we need to do is create a little chaos of our own and we can walk right past the ones who are left. Griffboy, do you remember those judo skills I taught you when we first met?’
‘I think so.’
‘Excellent, then this is what we’re going to do.’
‘Oooooww.’
‘Where does it hurt?’ Isabella leant over Bea as she writhed on the floor.
‘In my side. It really hurts!’
Raffy knocked on the main door. ‘Can someone help us? My sister’s in pain and needs a doctor.’ There was no answer.
He pounded into the wood with more force. ‘Please, sir!’
Finally, one of the soldiers called through the door. ‘Our orders are to keep you in there. No exceptions.’
‘But she looks really bad,’ Raffy pleaded. ‘I’ve never seen her like this. Please, mister. I think she’s really sick.’
They all waited, hoping Bea’s cries and Raffy’s desperate pleas would be enough.
‘Owww,’ Bea wailed even louder. ‘It feels like my insides are on fire!’
There was a brief pause before the locks clicked open.
Raffy ran to the soldier. ‘It’s Bea, over there – she just started hugging her side and crying.’
‘I think it’s her appendix,’ Isabella said. ‘The same thing happened to me when I was her age and I nearly died.’
‘She does look pale.’ The soldier’s face creased with concern while the other appeared behind him.
‘Come on, there’s nothing we can do about it. We were told not to let anyone in or out, that includes us.’
‘But you can see she’s in agony …’ Griffin said. ‘You can’t just leave her here. Only a coward would watch a child in pain and do nothing.’
‘What did you say?’ The second soldier stepped further inside.
‘Steady, Griffin,’ Xavier warned.
‘But it’s true – you’d have to be a real jerk to just walk away.’
The soldier poked a finger into Griffin’s chest. ‘Listen here you little –’
‘Now!’
Isabella helped Bea out of the way as Griffin and Xavier grabbed the soldiers’ arms, twisted around and pulled them onto their hips. After swapping a quick smile, they completed their judo throws so that the soldiers knocked their heads together before crashing to the ground in an unconscious heap.
It was all over in a matter of seconds.
‘I’d say those judo skills are still pretty sharp, Griffman.’
‘I had a good teacher.’
Xavier poked his head outside the door, checking the corridor was clear before leading them all out. They hurried across the carpet, keeping close to the walls, watching for any movement.
They didn’t get too far before a familiar figure stepped in front of them.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Corporal Smith.’ Isabella was tempted to keep going. ‘We’re leaving. I know you don’t believe me about the camp, but –’
Corporal Smith moved closer. ‘I do,’ she whispered. ‘Since we spoke I’ve found emails and secret files that prove everything you said is true.’
‘The explosion at the camp was planned by the Iron Guard.’
The corporal nodded. ‘I know.’
‘What will happen to the kids?’ Griffin asked.
‘They’re taking them away.’
‘Where?’ Raffy asked.
‘They will be marched to the first town that will accept them, where they’ll be handed over with a very generous fee.’ Corporal Smith shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Isabella, that I didn’t listen to you. My father would never have stood for this, and now it’s too late.’
‘We still have time.’
‘Isabella,’ she warned, ‘the Major General burnt down a whole camp to get what he wanted.’
For your own safety, do not leave your homes until further notice.
‘Are the Armavans being sent to enforce curfew?’
‘Yes. No one will be allowed outside without authorisation.’
‘I know a way we can try to stop this, but I need your help. Will you do it?’
‘Tell me what you need.’
The children shuffled along the corridor, their heads down and faces forlorn. Corporal Smith followed with a clipped step.
‘Faster,’ she ordered. The children obeyed, cowering at the sound of her voice. The building was almost empty of soldiers. They continued down the grand staircase to the front doors. ‘Open it.’
Griffin did as he was told. When they stepped into the Garrison courtyard, the wind slammed into them. The snow was heavier now and had begun to blanket the Garrison in a thick layer of white.
At the gate, two Garrison soldiers barred the exit.
‘Curfew. No civilians are allowed outside,’ one of them said.
Griffin kept his head down. Even in the cold wind his face felt hot and his pulse jolted through his body.
Corporal Smith held her poise. ‘They are to join the others.’
The soldier looked to the other, who shrugged. ‘We haven’t had orders for this.’
‘The Major General has seen evidence that they were involved in the fire. He contacted me directly and ordered that they share the same fate.’
The soldiers remained unconvinced.
‘Please, sir, don’t let her throw us out.’ Bea tugged at the soldier’s uniform. ‘We were only trying to help.’
He roughly shook her off. Raffy grabbed his sister as she wept loudly into his shoulder.
The soldier offered a measly smile and opened the gate. ‘Good riddance,’ he murmured as the children skulked past. The gate slammed shut after them.
‘Nice work, Sis,’ Raffy whispered.
‘I had to do something.’ She sniffed. ‘He was starting to annoy me.’
Corporal Smith walked behind and directed them to the street where the kids from the camp were to be led out of town. The Armavans crunched over the cobblestones while the warnings to stay indoors continued.
As they passed one of the houses, Griffin saw a little girl peek from behind a curtain. She lifted her hand to wave but was quickly bundled away and the curtains drawn back into place.
They’d turned down one street and into another, when they saw them. In the distance, a line of children straggled along in a daze. Their threadbare, muddied clothes – scant protection from the wind and snow – hung from them. They marched in two lines, some without shoes. Soldiers walked on either side of them. Their long coats rippled in the wind and their black boots struck the ground in unison.
Do not leave your homes. It is very dangerous to do so. Please stay indoors.
Snow now fell in waves. The wind sounded a low, mournful howl.
Isabella turned to the others. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
They all nodded.
Griffin saw one of the children stumble briefly, only to be pushed back into line with the butt of a gun.
‘Let’s do it.’
Corporal Smith spoke into her phone. ‘Amy? We’re ready.’
Amy’s small voice could be heard through the receiver. ‘She’s underway.’
They left the cover of the side street and walked into the centre of the road, while the soldiers and children marched towards them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The End of the Line
The Major General settled into the warmth of his office with Cleopatra asleep on a rug by the fire. He’d enjoyed hearing the soldiers’ reports on how everything had gone to plan – the explosions, the evacuation – and now he sat back to watch the march on a large screen.
But he hadn’t planned on what he saw next.
‘What are they doing there?’ He crouched over his desk and peered at one of the monitors more closely.
‘Sir?’ Slade and Brown sprang to attention.
‘I thought I ordered you to lock her away.’
‘We did, sir,’ Brown stammered. ‘She must have –’
‘Then what are they doing there?’
‘Sorry, sir, I really don’t –’
‘And why is Corporal Smith with them?’
This time Sergeant Brown didn’t bother to answer.
The Major General slammed his fist against the table. Cleopatra sprang to her feet, ears pinned back, tail snapping in sharp flicks.
‘Get them out of there. Now!’
The grey clouds and grubby snowdrifts turned the world a cold, dirty white.
Isabella, Griffin, Xavier and Corporal Smith lined up across the path of the march with Bea and Raffy in the middle.
One soldier looked up and met Isabella’s eye.
‘They’ve seen us.’ Isabella’s hands ached with cold but she kept them clenched by her side.
The soldier frowned briefly before holding up his hand. There was a muffled cry and the march came to a ragged stop.
Apart from the wind, there was an eerie silence.
The soldier who stopped the march stepped towards them. ‘You must return to the Garrison immediately. The Major General has ordered it.’
His left eye was covered by the red lens of his helmet, which whirred as it filmed every second.
‘We’re not moving until these children are taken into proper care,’ Isabella said.
‘You will return and you will do so now.’
‘You heard her,’ Griffin’s voice quivered, not from fear but fury. ‘We’re staying here until things are made right.’
‘It’s true,’ Raffy said. ‘You can try to make us leave, but we won’t go.’
‘These kids should be looked after, not sent away,’ Bea cried. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’
Corporal Smith spoke up next. ‘We will –’
‘You have no authority, Smith!’ The soldier turned on her. ‘As soon as you are returned to the Garrison, you will be stripped of your uniform and dismissed dishonourably from the army.’
‘Dismissed from a dishonourable army, more like,’ Xavier said.
‘Leave now or you will be forced to leave.’
Bea folded her arms. ‘What if we don’t?’
He took one hand off his gun and leant forward. ‘Please, little girl,’ he whispered, ‘it will be much safer if you all just do as you’re told.’
‘But if we do,’ Raffy asked, ‘what will happen to them?’
Before the soldier could reply, a sharp order rang through his helmet’s earpiece.
‘Enough!’ the Major General shouted. ‘If they like the company of those Moochers so much, they can join them.’
The soldier snapped upright. ‘Yes, sir. Right away, sir.’
He grabbed Isabella’s arm.
‘Don’t touch her!’ Griffin ran at the soldier with his fists raised but was easily pushed aside.
His hands scraped across the snow-covered road and his glasses flew from his face, cracking one of the lenses.
Isabella wrenched her arm free and leapt to his side while Raffy rescued his glasses.
Bea turned and glared at the soldier. ‘You’re nothing but a bully.’
They helped Griffin to his feet. Raffy gave him his broken glasses and Isabella wiped his hands.
‘You had your chance,’ the soldier said, ‘now move.’
As they joined the others, Isabella thought she saw the smallest movement of curtains from windows they passed – the faint outlines of people, sometimes alone, sometimes in huddles.
She saw the flicker of TV screens. And an image of a smiling Vijay staring back.
Amy did it, Isabella thought. She’s playing the footage from the camps.
Then she heard a familiar sound – a fit of coughing stealing the air from a small chest.
‘Samira!’ Isabella bolted past the soldier to the frail girl who was doubled over in Vijay’s arms, fighting for every breath.
Latif and Nadia held Samira upright. Isabella met Vijay’s fearful gaze while he pounded her back. ‘You’ll be okay,’ he said.
Samira found it impossible to catch her breath between each cough and she slumped to the ground.
Nadia and Latif cushioned her fall.
‘Gotcha,’ Latif said.
Her coughing slowly calmed but her breathing was strained. Vijay pulled her beanie over her ears and Nadia and Latif snuggled her blanket and scarf around her chest and neck.
From his office, the Major General seethed through the soldier’s earpiece. ‘What is going on?’
‘Slight delay, sir,’ the soldier replied. ‘We’re moving now. Forward!’
‘She needs to catch her breath,’ Isabella cried.
‘And I need to get you out of here,’ the soldier hissed.
‘I don’t think I can march anymore,’ Samira wheezed. ‘I’m sorry, Vijay.’
‘Then I’ll carry you.’ Even though he was small, Vijay lifted her easily into his arms. ‘It’s about time my muscles were put to good use.’
Before they had taken their first step, Xavier noticed something a few houses away. He nudged Isabella. ‘Look.’
A door had opened and an old man dressed in slippers and a long coat was shuffling across his front yard, his white, fuzzy hair sprinkled with snowflakes. He stepped onto the road in front of the march.
‘Where are you taking these children?’ he demanded.
‘Please, sir,’ the soldier said. ‘There’s a curfew in place. You need to go back inside.’
‘I want to know where you are taking them.’
Another door opened and a younger man in overalls stepped out to join him. ‘He asked a question that I think deserves an answer.’
Isabella could see more screens through windows and open doors – all of them playing footage from the camp.
The Major General struggled to his feet and snatched the microphone. This is Major General Grimes. His voice poured from the loudspeakers along the street, echoing through the snowdrifts. For your own safety, you are to stay indoors.
No one moved.
Then the order came. Every Garrison soldier heard it in their earpiece: ‘Arrest them. I want all Armavans to move in immediately and remove anyone who violates the curfew.’
Within moments, the rumbling engine of an Armavan turned into the street. It came to a shuddering halt and soldiers poured out. They grabbed the two men and began forcing them towards the van.
The door of another house opened and a strong man with curly hair and bushy eyebrows walked into his front yard.
‘It’s Mr Omar,’ Isabella whispered to Griffin.
He crossed his bulky arms against his chest, daring the soldiers to arrest him. ‘I guess you’re going to have to take me too.’
Two soldiers entered his yard. Mr Omar remained defiant for a few minutes before he held his hands out to be cuffed.
The door of the next house opened, but this time a woman emerged with a young girl perched in her arms.
The soldiers stared at each other, uncertain what to do.
‘Well?’ The Major General’s voice pierced their ears. ‘What are you waiting for?’
One by one, more
people came out of their houses and apartments – teenagers, husbands, wives, whole families. The soldiers’ heads flicked and turned in every direction as doors and windows opened.
‘What’s happening?’ Samira asked.
‘Satyagraha,’ Vijay said proudly. ‘Non-violent civil disobedience. It looks like people are making a stand.’
An old woman hobbled into the street with her walking frame and stopped directly before a soldier. ‘What have these kids done that’s so bad?’ she demanded.
This time the Major General’s order blasted over the loudspeaker: Arrest them all!
The woman eyed the soldier with a cheeky grin. ‘I wouldn’t do that, sonny. I used to be a karate champion, you know.’
More Armavans arrived, but with them came even more people hurrying from nearby streets and lanes. They stood blocking the road before the column of children and soldiers.
Isabella smiled at Vijay. ‘They can’t throw everyone in jail.’
Other familiar faces emerged from the gathering crowd.
‘Mrs Gooding! Mrs Fern!’ Isabella called out.
The two women waved and took their place in the throng.
The Major General watched the screens in his office fill with the swelling crowds. He held the microphone close. Residents of New City. He did his best to sound reasonable. For years we have helped protect and guard those who were displaced by the Floods. Sadly, there has been a fire at the camp. The food domes are safe and can still be salvaged, but the dorms have been destroyed.
The woman with the walking frame called toward the speakers. ‘Where are you taking them?’
They are being sent to another town where they will be taken care of.
‘Why can’t they stay here?’ Another voice yelled.
There is nowhere for them to live. The Major General’s voice began to strain over the loudspeaker. We have done all we can! Stand aside and let them pass.
The crowd wouldn’t budge.
Mrs Gooding stepped forward. ‘They’re welcome in my home.’
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
‘I’d be delighted to share my home too,’ Mrs Fern said.
Corporal Smith was next: ‘Me too.’
There was a thick silence, rippled with menace. Isabella searched the faces in the crowd; small, tentative looks of bravery bloomed everywhere.
New City Page 16
