Scavengers

by Darren Simpson

  “Can you see that one?” asked Landfill. “With the missing sleeve? The one a bit like…like…” He couldn’t help casting a glance towards Hinterland.

  Dawn watched the limping figure. “Sure I can.”

  “Can the other Outsiders see it?”

  “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “But if they can see it…” He rubbed his eyes. “If they can see it, why aren’t they looking at it? I think it wants help. Why aren’t they helping?”

  Dawn exhaled slowly. “It’s complicated.”

  Landfill looked confused. “But it doesn’t make sense.” He turned his damp eyes to Dawn, who was examining him sadly.

  She bit her lip. “I’ll explain at the chemist, okay? So let’s keep moving.” She squeezed his trembling hand, tugged him gently and they continued on their way.

  The one-sleeved Outsider mumbled when they passed: “Spare change for food?”

  Dawn didn’t respond. She kept her eyes firmly ahead. Only Landfill returned that pitiful gaze, and the scruffy Outsider jolted on its feet, as if surprised to discover it actually existed.

  They turned a corner and started along another strip lined by red-brick rows. Upon passing a ceilinged, vertical pane of glass that jutted from the slabs, Landfill stopped again. He was contemplating an overflowing metal box sat next to the glass pane. “What’s that?”

  “A bin. Now keep moving.” Dawn pointed at a wide building just ahead, with a shiny blue façade covered in white squares and symbols. “The chemist is just over…”

  Her words fell away when Landfill started digging through the rubbish piled on the bin. “Landfill?”

  Dawn moved towards him, but hesitated when she got close. He was throwing empty packaging to one side and piling food scraps on the other. While Landfill rummaged, he shoved bits of rubbish – orange peel and pale lumps of burger meat – into his face. In the corner of his eye, he noticed a nearby Outsider with wires dangling from its ears. It saw him, stopped walking and raised its plastic rectangle in his direction. Other Outsiders stopped to watch too, some of them whispering to themselves or to others.

  Dawn groaned and tried again. “Please stop, Landfill. That’s kind of gross.”

  Landfill kept digging. “That Outsider,” he began. “With the missing sleeve.” He broke off to chew some pale, soggy blocks of potato he’d thrown into his mouth, then gulped and carried on. “Think it wanted food. There’s food here – so much good food! We can bring it back! Not complicated at all.”

  “It is and we can’t.” Dawn tapped her foot against the ground. “Listen, Landfill. That chemist closes in one minute. If you want medicine, we need to go in there right now.”

  Landfill turned from the bin. He looked back and forth between the building ahead and the corner behind them.

  “I’ll get food to that man,” said Dawn. “Clean food. I’ll do it straight after we go to the chemist. Okay?”

  Landfill tilted his head. “You swear?”

  Dawn put a hand to her chest. “I swear. Now let’s go, you little weirdo.”

  A glass door slammed behind Landfill as they entered the building, and his hand shot out for Dawn’s once more. His pupils darted in every direction, taking in the scuffed, rubbery floor; the rectangular sheets of paper stuck to the walls; the dusty, glass-fronted cube suspended in an upper corner. Some Outsiders were sitting on plastic chairs to one side of the room, and there was a wide rectangular hole in one of the walls, behind which sat two Outsiders in clean white shirts with black patches on their shoulders.

  Dawn squeezed his hand and pointed at the plastic chairs. “Take a seat, okay? I’ll get your medicine for you.”

  Landfill frowned at the chairs. “Take one? Where to?”

  “It means sit down.”

  Landfill winced and scratched his head. “Oh.”

  Dawn watched him cross the floor, and waited until he was sat on a chair before turning to talk quietly to one of the Outsiders behind the hole in the wall.

  Landfill massaged the blade in his pocket. He cast a suspicious eye over the Outsiders sitting around him, and clocked that one of them – with long dark hair and a string of shiny beads around its neck – was watching him.

  It leaned over and smiled. “Are you okay, little man? You look like you could do with a square meal. Are you hungry? I might have something in here, if you’re lucky.” It started to dig through the little black bag on its lap. “I’m sure I packed an apple this morning.”

  Landfill drew away and narrowed his eyes. “Not hungry. Just ate. Grubbins in the…bin out there.” He tipped his head towards the door and showed his palms, which were slimy with burger grease and flecks of potato.

  “Oh.” The Outsider’s smile faltered before stiffening awkwardly. One of its eyes twitched. “Well isn’t that nice.”

  While it cleared its throat and moved to another seat, another Outsider shuffled onto the chair beside Landfill and cackled. “Proper street food, right?” It laughed again and pointed at the boy’s feet. “You here to report some missing shoes?”

  The Outsider grinned and Landfill was startled by a mouthful of metal teeth. He looked towards Dawn, who was still talking to the Outsider behind the hole. The Outsider she was speaking to glanced quickly at him before nodding at her words.

  Landfill licked the dryness from his lips. He forced himself to meet the eyes of the metal-mouthed Outsider. “Medsin.”

  “Eh?”

  “Here for medsin.” The boy looked around. “Where’s medsin in here?”

  The Outsider leaned back and crossed its arms. “You mean medicine? You won’t get it here, bud. Not in a police station. Just a taste of your own, yeah?” That wide mouth clucked and sparkled.

  Landfill tensed. “Pulleess?” He searched the room again. “This is pulleess? Not kemist?”

  “Course it is, yeah? What’s up, bud? Gone as white as a sheet!”

  Landfill was already on his feet and sprinting for the glass door. He heard Dawn call out, and dropped to all fours the moment he hit concrete. Other voices were calling too, and he heard the thick clopping of boots behind him.

  Landfill loped as quickly as he could back the way he’d come. There were sounds of slamming metal, rubbery screeches and revving roars. Rolling machines skidded aside and another machine raced by – a wailing blur of white metal and flashing blue. It screeched to a stop and released two white-shirted Outsiders, who stepped out and blocked the path ahead. Landfill skidded on his heels, and before he could even pivot was gripped by a white-shirted Outsider who’d pursued him from behind.

  “No!” cried Landfill. “Let me go! Got to get back!” He caught a glimpse of Dawn, who was hovering behind his captor with tears in her eyes and a hand to her mouth. “Fibbing trickster!” he screamed.

  “Please!” shouted Dawn. “It’s for your own good, Landfill! I had to make you safe!”

  Landfill’s head thrashed towards the Pit. “You sound just like him!” He growled and looked around, his gaze skimming the faces of Outsiders that had stopped to stare. Some stretched on their toes and craned their necks, while others aimed plastic rectangles at his face.

  “Lies everywhere!” wailed the boy. “Fibbery and mischief! That’s what’s over the wall – just like Babagoo said! You’re all mad and you’re all blind!”

  “No,” pleaded Dawn. “You’ll see, Landfill! Give us a chance to let you see!”

  “Don’t want to see! Just want medsin! Someone give me medsin! I have munnie!” Landfill wrenched his arm free of the Outsider’s grip, thrust his hand into his jeans and waved the papery wad in the air. Murmurs and gasps ran through the swelling crowd.

  Landfill was taken by surprise when a hand slipped out to snatch at the wad. He barked and yanked back his arm, and the paper flew up into the air. There were loud cries, and Landfill was released while coloured slips fluttered above his head. The crowd heaved beneath them, forcing the white-shirted Outsiders to spread out in an attempt to fight the surge.

&
nbsp; Landfill crouched and scrabbled between scuffling feet. Outsiders all around him were screaming and yelling as they fought over papery sheets, pulling and pushing and barging with shoulders.

  Landfill looked on with an expression trapped between awe and horror. Howls of pain and rage rang in his ears. He saw fists thumping, elbows jabbing – hands flailing for sheets scattered across slabs or twisting in the wind.

  A hand clamped his wrist and snapped him out of his daze. It was attached to a burly Outsider with blond fuzz for hair and a grimace that became a smirk beneath its flat, crooked nose. Landfill snarled and bit into the hand, and the Outsider bellowed but refused to let go. Landfill saw the knuckled ball of its fist coming at him, and was cowering when he heard a familiar voice – “No!” – and saw the fist knocked aside by someone else’s forearm.

  The Outsider scrunched its face, released Landfill’s hand and turned angrily to Dawn. Dawn returned its scowl before showing Landfill a sorry, wretched look of defeat. Her expression gripped him tighter than the hand that had held his wrist, until another Outsider dived for a nearby paper slip and cuffed his head.

  With a yelp, Landfill tore himself from Dawn’s gaze and continued to weasel his way through the tumult. With scrapping and savagery behind him, he bolted across some slabs and around the corner.

  After tearing through gorse, Landfill had to stop. He dropped to his knees and panted in the bracken. When he saw the four Black Fingers pointing sunwards, he wiped his face with his jumper’s hem and ran for the hill.

  His run was more of a limp by the time he passed the ducts lining the Gully. His cheeks were crimson and a fiery ache consumed his thighs. His chest strained and burned like a stove about to explode.

  He could see the Nook up ahead. Kafka wasn’t far from the metal cabinet, stood beside a crumpled mound of rags. The mound moved, and when Landfill realized it was Babagoo, all agony was forgotten.

  The scavenger shifted to his knees at the sound of slapping feet, and froze when he saw the boy running towards him. He leaned stiffly back when Landfill drew nearer. Something that was either fear or wonder filled his eyes.

  “You’re…” wheezed Landfill. “You’re okay.” He kneeled in dead moss, gasping, with his hands pressed to his thighs.

  Babagoo gaped at him. His jaw hung limply open. He reached out for the boy before stopping himself. “Landfill…” he croaked. Spidery tear trails shone along the mud that caked his cheeks. “Me and Kafka… We searched all over. Where were you?”

  Landfill’s eyes watered and he put his palms to his face. “I’m sorry, Babagoo. Went for medsin. But I couldn’t get it. Down where Outsiders gather, it’s…it’s…”

  “You went to the town? You tried to get medicine for me?” Babagoo reached out again, but his fingers stopped before they could touch Landfill’s cheek. “But after…everything I did…”

  The flaps of his hat lifted while he grimaced and shook his head. “Why’d you come back to me?”

  Landfill stared at his hands. “I hurt you.”

  That sad, frightened look of awe was still on Babagoo’s face. “But, my lad,” he began. “You had every right. You know what I did. I lied about where you came from. I hid you away. I…I’m as bad as them. I have the hunger. I tried to fix…” He rubbed his own arms and shuddered. “I used you. Everything I did – I said it was for you, but it wasn’t. It was for me. For my own hunger. For my own madness. I don’t deserve you, Landfill. You shouldn’t be here.”

  The boy sniffed and gulped. He clutched the fingers hovering by his face and pressed them to his cheek. The scavenger seemed to gasp at the heat there. “I should be here,” said Landfill. “With you.”

  Babagoo stared at the boy. Fresh tears ran into his beard. “But your mother. Maybe you can find her. You wanted so badly to—”

  “My mother dumped me. I believe you now. I’ve seen what they’re like Outside. They lie and they hurt and they don’t make sense. The rot’s everywhere. It’s in the air – in what they do.”

  Babagoo moved his fingers against the heat of Landfill’s cheek. His word was a whisper. “Wallflower…”

  Landfill tightened his grip on the scavenger’s fingers. “You do deserve me, Babagoo. You saved my life when someone else threw it away.”

  Babagoo winced and shook his head. “No, my boy. That day, just before I found you in the Pit, I’d dug myself a grave in the rubbish.” He wiped a plaid sleeve across his nose. “Long ago, I turned away from people – from good people who cared for me and wanted to help. And in the end they gave up and turned away too. It was too late to go back, and I was tired and done for and digging a hole to die in. But then I found you, Landfill, and I thought that maybe I’d been given a chance to—” Babagoo choked on his words, coughed red spit into moss. “I left that grave empty, Landfill. I didn’t save your life that day. You saved mine.”

  Landfill’s jaw trembled. “Then we’re even.” A glint of fallen glass distracted him, and he turned his gaze to the wall. “The Outsiders. They know we’re still here.”

  Babagoo’s eyes followed Landfill’s. He scrambled to his feet and pulled the boy up. “Then they’ll be coming. We have to go.”

  “Where?”

  “Somewhere new. Somewhere you can start again. But you won’t get the chance if we’re caught. And they’ll be close now. No doubt about it.”

  “Can we give them the slip?”

  “Maybe. If we stall ’em.” The scavenger’s eyes narrowed.

  “How?”

  Babagoo turned his head northwards. He eyed the Black Fingers. “Dominoes.”

  They ran for the four towering chimneys. While Babagoo lumbered and splashed through the Gully, Landfill scampered across the pipes overhead. They were soon moving through the Thin Woods, crossing wet mulch and fallen branches. Kafka trailed behind, bobbing his gnarly head as he trotted.

  Landfill stopped and twisted to check on Babagoo. The scavenger’s beard was sopping with sweat, and he clutched his lower stomach as if something was gnawing into it. His arm shot out towards the building that formed the base of the Black Fingers. “Get onto that roof and climb one of the chimneys! See if they’re coming!”

  Landfill scaled the building’s wall and was soon some way up the westernmost Finger. The gaps from Babagoo’s work on the bricks helped him to ascend quickly. When he was high enough he looked out over the perimeter wall. The shrub-covered hill rolled away beneath him, and beyond that he saw the Spit Pit. Gorse, grass and bracken stretched out to each side, and just west of the Pit he saw the tract of buildings he’d so recently fled.

  A gruff call from the ground. “Are they coming?”

  Landfill surveyed the landscape. He saw small blue flashes. Several rolling machines were racing along the bracken to the right of the Pit. A gust blew by, and he heard an alien, monotonous wailing on the wind.

  He leaned out from the chimney to yell. “Rolling machines with blue lights! Coming round the side of the Pit, heading this way!”

  Babagoo yelled back. “Police! Probably off-road! We don’t have long! What about the Pit? Is anyone there?”

  Landfill looked over the wall. His eyes searched the Pit. Outsiders were moving across the dunes and buffs, some on foot and some in the yellow machines with spiked wheels. He saw more Outsiders on their tracks, pouring out from the area of buildings and heading for the landfill site.

  He leaned to call back. “Yes! Outsiders are crossing the Pit!”

  “Good! Then go to the chimney with the shovel in its side! Pull the shovel down as hard as you can!”

  Landfill climbed back down to the flat roof and ran past three chimney bases, towards the Finger furthest from the perimeter wall.

  “Pull down the shovel! The Finger needs to fall!”

  Grabbing the shovel’s handle with both hands, Landfill pulled down as hard as he could. He ended up hanging from the handle, hunched up with his feet kicking the air. “Nothing’s happening!” he cried.

  “The hammer! Us
e the hammer!”

  Landfill searched the roof and spotted the branch with the sledgehammer’s head at its end. It wasn’t far from his feet, and he threw himself forward to drag it back to the chimney. It took some effort to raise it high, and he let it drop so that it slammed the shovel’s handle. “Nothing!” he shrieked.

  “Keep at it! Keep at it!”

  Landfill heaved the hammer up and let it fall. He tried again, and then again, but still nothing happened. He was struggling to raise the hammer yet again when he heard scuffing sounds nearby, and the hammer dropped with a thud. He saw Babagoo – with red eyes bulging and blood oozing from his nostrils – trying to pull himself onto the roof.

  The boy took Babagoo’s hand and hauled him over the edge. Babagoo lugged himself on hands and knees to the hammer. “They won’t get my boyling,” he growled. “You’ll have your time for giving them the slip, lad!”

  He got up and began to slam the shovel, gritting his teeth and roaring with every swing. Landfill noticed a pattering sound that followed each wallop. Chips of mortar were falling from the chimney’s other side, tumbling from brickwork lining the cavities made previously by Babagoo.

  The scavenger kept at it. His face was glistening purple-red, and veins stood out like cables around his neck. He slammed and slammed with the hammer, and threw it down when a thump caused a cracking sound to travel up the chimney.

  Landfill looked up to follow the sound. Large chips of rubble had begun to tumble down the Finger’s west side. He kept his gaze on the Finger’s tip, and thought he could see it lean, just very slightly. The movement was barely visible, but it was enough. Momentum began to build, and Landfill hopped back when chunks of masonry fell and smashed against the rooftop.

  The chimney continued to lean, slowly at first but gathering speed. Red, dusty clouds began to pop from its side, and Landfill’s chin dropped when the Finger toppled westwards and smashed into the next Finger along. The second chimney groaned, and rubble exploded around its missing brickwork. The second chimney toppled too, and crashed into the third. Landfill covered his ears, but it was impossible to block out the deafening groans.