Scavengers

by Darren Simpson

  Landfill sneered. “I told you. I’ve been Outside. It was all rot and madness. Was horrorific.”

  Dawn pursed her lips. “I don’t know where you were, Landfill, but it’s not like that out there. When was the last time you went outside? Hang on a second…” Her hand rose slowly to her mouth. “A vegetable patch. That’s what the man said…” Her eyes widened as her fingers fell away. “How long have you been in here? Where else exactly have you been?” She put a palm to her forehead. “Did someone tell you it’s dangerous out there?”

  Landfill’s tongue felt thick in his mouth. “I… It…”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Dawn stepped towards the window and stared at the glass in the wall. Slowly, she turned her head to Landfill. Her lips churned, but it took some moments for words to leave them. “Landfill…I think someone’s been confusing you. And I think we need to get you out of here.”

  “I won’t go Outside!”

  “It’s safer there. Please trust me.”

  Landfill buried his hand in his hair. “Can’t trust you!”

  “Why not?”

  Tears gathered in the boy’s eyes. “You’re an Outsider!”

  “But I’m not an outsider! If anything…if anything you are.”

  Landfill wrinkled his nose. “Watch your jabberhole.”

  “There are people out there in towns and cities, Landfill. People living together. And if you insist on staying here away from all that, you’re the outsider. You’ve got it all the wrong way round. Or inside out.” She tapped the windowpane. “Out there over the wall, you’re inside. If you stay here, you’re out.”

  “Gibberish. Makes no sense.”

  Dawn sucked in her upper lip. “Well maybe inside and outside aren’t as simple as they sound.” She put out her hand again. “Now will you come with me, Landfill? Please?”

  Landfill crossed his arms.

  “If you won’t come for me, how about you do it for yourself?”

  “Myself?”

  “Yeah. Someone’s told you it’s dangerous out there, and I’m telling you it’s safe. Why believe one person and not the other? How do you choose? Surely if two people tell you different things, you should find out for yourself. Make your own choice.”

  “I did find out. I was attacked, remember.”

  “Whatever happened out there, it was an exception.” She released a sharp sigh. “I mean, yes, sometimes people get attacked. Sometimes people do bad things to each other. But whoever attacked you – that was one person. You can’t judge everyone else based on that. Most people are nice, if you give them half a chance. Believe me, I’m well aware of how crappy people can be. But even I know that for every horrible thing someone does, someone else does something good.”

  Landfill’s tone was mocking. “Good? What good?”

  Dawn shook her head in exasperation. “Things like… Like… Charity! Human rights! Firemen and nurses, people inventing med—”

  “Gibberish!”

  Dawn persisted. “Even the little things. Like a hug you didn’t ask for, when you really need it. Or a joke about the boy who dumped you – a joke so funny it nearly makes you pee. Really little things. And guess what… Those things, no matter how small – they’re worth a lot more than the bad things. They’re big little things. Huge things!”

  Landfill was shaking his head. “Don’t know what any of that means!”

  Dawn closed her eyes and pushed her thumb and forefinger into her eyelids. “Well, maybe that’s your problem, right there. Maybe that’s why you need to come with me.”

  Landfill didn’t budge. His arms were still crossed, and he glared sternly at the carpet.

  Dawn groaned. “So that’s that, is it? You’d honestly rather stay here?”

  Landfill didn’t respond. Something was kicked across the cabin, and he heard Dawn pace back and forth before settling back down on the floor.

  “Okay,” she grunted. “Stalemate it is.”

  The air seemed to thicken with each minute that trickled by. Landfill wiped his wrist through his hair and wondered what to do. He threw a glance at Dawn, who was fidgeting sulkily with something that glimmered against her neck. “Is that…” he began.

  Dawn looked up. “Hm?”

  “Your mother. The mother you…came from. You said she gave you that.”

  “She did.” The creases left Dawn’s brow. She moved her hands to the back of her head. “You want to see it again?”

  Landfill rubbed his calf with his toe while considering the question, then moved slowly towards Dawn and stooped to look at what she’d removed from around her neck. His eyebrows rose, and Dawn angled her hand so that the thin, delicate chain glittered in her palm. Landfill pointed at the small golden shape at its centre. “Looks like…”

  “A bird? Yeah. See its wings there? And that’s the beak.”

  Landfill lowered himself for a closer look. “I like birds. Sometimes I don’t, but mostly I do.” He sighed, and saw the bird mist with his breath.

  Dawn took the chain’s ends between her fingers, and as she clasped them behind her head, Landfill’s eyes moved to the plastic band around her neck.

  Dawn tapped it with her finger. “You like my headphones?”

  “Hedfoans?”

  “What sort of music do you like?”

  The word felt strange in the boy’s mouth. “Me… Meeyoo…”

  Dawn narrowed her eyes. “Wait there. Are you…? You’re not honestly telling me you don’t know what music is, are you?”

  Landfill’s expression seemed to answer her question. She stared at him with her mouth falling open, then pulled the band from her neck and raised it towards his face.

  He flinched and pulled away.

  “It’s okay,” said Dawn. “Put them on. They won’t hurt. Trust me.”

  He studied the padded cups and gnawed his lips.

  “God, Landfill. If I wanted to hurt you I’d have done it already. I nearly smashed your head with a fire extinguisher, remember?”

  Landfill gave this some thought, then nodded slowly. He winced at the brush of plastic across his hair, and felt the pads close in against his ears. Everything became quiet, until Dawn reached into her pocket and pressed something.

  Landfill shrieked, clawed at the band and threw it forward, so that it jerked on the end of a thin cable and fell to the floor.

  “Hey!” Dawn leaned forward to recover the band. “Those weren’t cheap, you know.”

  Landfill was panting on his haunches. Every little hair stood up on his arms and neck. “Head!” he gasped. “Sounds in my head!”

  “Sshhh, Landfill.” Dawn touched his arm. “It’s okay. They weren’t in your head. They come from here.” She pointed at the foam in one of the band’s cups. “You see?” She held the cup in the air, and Landfill heard faint, tinny noises. “You want to try it again?”

  Landfill eyed the pads warily, but curiosity soon had him nodding.

  “I’ve turned it down a bit, okay?” Dawn raised the band again, and Landfill clenched his eyes shut when the pads enveloped his ears.

  Slowly, gradually, his eyes reopened. His lower lip began to descend, little by little, until his mouth hung wide open. His heart pumped so hard that his fingertips throbbed and tickled, and his pupils circled and roved, trying to process, trying to follow.

  He was only dimly aware of Dawn tapping his elbow. She leaned into view, smiled and soundlessly moved her lips. Then she lifted one of the cups from his ear and tried again. “You like it?”

  Landfill felt his lips moving too. “Starlings. Like starlings.”

  Dawn looked confused. “You mean…like birdsong?”

  “Like when they fly together. Flowing. One way then another. Like sky ripples. That’s what it’s like. But how…” He touched the cup still pressed against his ear. “How’s it happen?”

  “What? The music?” Dawn rubbed her forehead. “Well, the stuff that’s been played and recorded goes through those headphones into your ear.”


  “Play?”

  “Played. On instruments.”

  “Insrumens.”

  “Oh god… Let me guess. You don’t know what instruments are?” Dawn closed her eyes momentarily and put a palm against her forehead. “Instruments. Things that…that are made to…” She looked at the ceiling. “It’s complicated, I guess. People make instruments – out of wood, string and metal and stuff – and other people learn to play them. That’s how the music’s made. People play their instruments together – sometimes loads of them, like whole orchestras and stuff. And then there’s all this technology to record and play it, so people can listen to it.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Actually, it’s pretty mad, when you think about it…”

  Her eyes lit up and she grasped the boy’s wrist. Landfill – lost somewhere between the sounds in his head and Dawn’s growing giddiness – couldn’t resist her hold.

  “But that’s what I mean, Landfill! You have no idea what you’re missing! Those people out there… That music you’re hearing is by them! They’ve worked together for years, from one generation to the next, imagining instruments, mastering their craft, practising and practising and making technology to catch it all – centuries of passion and graft to put that in your ears!”

  She tapped her lips, her eyes as full of wonder as the boy’s. “I’ve never really thought about it like that. You take it for granted, you know? It doesn’t feel like a big deal, but it is! Again, Landfill – the big little things! That’s what’s out there. That’s what your outsiders are capable of. And there’s so much more… So many good things they can do for each other – for you!”

  Landfill could barely follow. The hairs on his arms and neck were prickling again, but this time the sensation was pleasant. Dawn lowered the cup back onto his ear and – being careful not to nudge the plastic band – Landfill sat down and crossed his legs. He swayed without realizing, and at some point Dawn grinned and eased a cup up with her fingers.

  “Well look at that! Turns out you have a smile, Landfill.” She laughed, and Landfill found himself laughing too, but not without a rush of wet heat to his eyes.

  The boy swayed and listened, listened and swayed. He shook his head in amazement, then noticed, with a shiver, that the colour had left Dawn’s face. Her lips moved quickly, but he couldn’t hear what she said. She was gaping at the cabin’s window, and Landfill turned his head to follow her gaze.

  Babagoo’s face was pressed so hard against the windowpane that it looked set to crack. His shoulders were heaving up and down, and the breath that misted the glass did nothing to hide the fury of those wide, quaking eyes.

  Dawn’s eyes moved from the window to the door, but she faltered on the spot. Landfill’s lips twisted, searching for words, until he yanked off the headphones and sprinted from the cabin.

  “Babagoo!” He held up his palms. “It’s not… She’s—”

  “Getting away, that’s what!” Babagoo hurled him aside so that he flew with a crack into the cabin wall. Dawn ran through the cabin door and the scavenger met her course, shouldering her neck and knocking her to the ground. She screamed when he stooped to grab her wrist and a fistful of hair, and before Landfill knew it, he found himself clutching plaid and pulling the scavenger away.

  Babagoo was taken by surprise and fell back against the boy.

  “Argh! Like that, is it?” He shot back up to his feet, and pulled Landfill round to his front so he could grip him tightly with an arm across his chest. His penknife jutted from his free hand, and slashed crosses into the air while Dawn climbed to her feet.

  “Stay back!” snarled Babagoo. “Stay back and don’t even try your trickery! Your mischief may work on the boy, but it’s wasted on me.”

  Dawn stood with legs apart and knees bent, her hands held out as if for balance. Her fingers trembled, but her paleness had given way to a red flush of anger. She pointed at Landfill. “He needs to come with me. He—”

  “Shut up! Shut that mouth and keep your poison from his ears!”

  Landfill sobbed and winced, and struggled to breathe beneath the squeeze of Babagoo’s arm.

  “It won’t work!” Babagoo spat in Dawn’s direction. “I won’t let you have him! Try all you want, but you’ll never have your way. I’ll die a million deaths to keep him from you – to keep him safe from your…your sickness!”

  Dawn panted, and wiped at the mud smeared across her nose. The beginnings of a bruise darkened her chin and neck.

  Scavenger and intruder eyed each other in a prickly standoff. Landfill stared through bleary eyes at Dawn’s rigid form, and heard the grind and gnash of Babagoo’s teeth. The passing seconds felt stretched enough to snap.

  Dawn made her move. In one swift motion, she swung her black device up and aimed it at them both. Babagoo howled at its muted flash, and threw Landfill aside to run at Dawn when she leaped for the tunnel.

  “No no no!” Both of his hands were on the device before she could duck into the hole. “Won’t! Let! You! Akkk!”

  Dawn had hurled her head upwards, and the crunch of her forehead against his nose sent him reeling. He clutched at his face and stumbled back to the tunnel, but Dawn was gone.

  With his head clamped in his palms, Landfill watched Babagoo attempt to climb foot-first into the hole. The scavenger grunted and writhed, and roared when he got jammed in the tunnel’s muddy mouth. He glared at Landfill and roared again, the skin crimson around his bristling beard. “Well don’t just sit there snivelling! Get me out!”

  With lips quivering, Landfill dashed forward to take Babagoo’s hands and drag him from the hole.

  As soon as he was out, Babagoo turned and pointed at the tunnel. His entire body shook with rage. “What is this? What happened here?”

  Landfill was kneading his hands. “I found her…the Outsider…when I was checking the wall. Was trapping her in the cabin so you could—”

  “LIES!”

  Landfill blubbered while Babagoo shook him. “It didn’t look like trapping to me. And you’ve seen her before! Why else would you be asking all those idiotic questions about Outsiders? Good job I checked on you. So tell me the truth, you treacherous little scat. What’s going on?”

  Landfill’s head lurched when Babagoo shook him again. He looked at the hole, pushed his palms against his eyes. His cheeks were red-raw with tears.

  Babagoo glared at him before turning his gaze to the tunnel. “Wait… Wait a minute… Caught you lurking here a couple of days ago, didn’t I, when you were supposed to be tending vejbles.” His eyes simmered in their sockets. “And there was that time in summer, when you got all slippery and said you were kicking the cabin. Has this been going on since then?”

  “No! I promise it hasn’t!”

  “That fibbing look! Don’t even attempt to feed me more tripe! Was this hole…” His lips contorted and he leaned in close. “Was it anything to do with you?”

  Landfill tried to speak, but choked on his tears.

  “Was it?”

  “It was Longwhite’s idea, not mine!”

  “Longwhite? The Outsider?”

  “No.” Landfill squirmed in Babagoo’s grip. “Longwhite lives under the Rippletop. Was all his idea, I swear!”

  Babagoo twisted his neck to eye the warehouse’s walls. “Longwhite… What does Longwhite look like? Is it another Outsider?”

  “Been here a long time. You don’t know about him. He’s…thin. Long and white. Sharp teeth.”

  “A snake?” Babagoo’s tongue flashed across his lips. “Is that what he is? Always a serpent in paradise…”

  Landfill gave the scavenger a puzzled look, and gasped when Babagoo snatched his hand and dragged him away from the tunnel.

  “We’ll deal with this Longwhite later,” he rumbled. “And we’ll deal with you too. But right now we need to act. It’s not safe here any more.”

  Landfill struggled to keep from stumbling as Babagoo hauled him past the cabins, the Rippletop, the barking dogs at Muttbrough. “She was di
fferent!” he wailed. “Not like the one in the Pit. She was…softer!”

  “Of course she was different! The Outsider in the Pit failed so they tried a different ploy, and this time it worked! Masks and mischief, Landfill! You’ve seen first-hand how they try to hurt you!”

  Landfill yelped when Babagoo yanked his arm. “But she had blood! Blood and no rot!”

  “Oh she’ll have the rot alright. The rot that runs deep is the worst of all. She’ll have the hate and hunger in spades. Just wait and see. That scheming Outsider of yours is about to bring destruction to everything we have. Then you’ll see just how ‘soft’ she is!”

  Bursting through the Nook’s double door, Babagoo was struck by a violent fit of coughing. He hacked and cursed, and threads of saliva dangled from his lips. The boy reached timidly to pat his back, but received a fiery glare and stayed away.

  When the coughing subsided, Babagoo stomped along the hallway and through the metal door. Landfill shuffled meekly behind him, and watched with the cats and goats as Babagoo dashed about the room, grabbing bin bags and cramming them with dross capes, tools, traps, lighters, cans and bottles of oil. “At least make yourself useful!” He nodded towards the water tank in the corner. “Fill up some jerrycans. As many as you can.”

  The cats began to prickle in their boxes. The goats stopped grazing on rubbish, their slotted pupils trailing Babagoo’s movements around the Den. Landfill looked at the water tank and back at Babagoo. “But what’s happening? What’re we doing?”

  The scavenger was knotting a rope around his waist. “Can’t stay here. Not now. Outsiders are on the march and it won’t be long before they’re here. We have to hide and we need supplies. So fill those cans!”

  Landfill got to work on the cans and Babagoo said goodbye to his goats. With his eyes damp and red, he pushed his forehead against their noses. He croaked quiet words Landfill couldn’t hear over the sloshing water and mewling felines. The scavenger lingered by Kafka, and wrapped both arms around the goat’s neck.

  The sight intensified Landfill’s weeping. His sobbing distracted Babagoo, who released Kafka and scowled at the blubbering boy. “There’ll be plenty of time for tears. That’s all we’ll have left!” He tied the last bag to his waist. “Now let’s move. Taken too long as it is.”