Wilder Country

by Mark Smith

  ‘Hey, soldier,’ she says. ‘You know what the penalty is for falling asleep on your watch?’

  I climb to my feet and realise she has the rifle in her hands.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say.

  ‘Sorry’s not good enough, it’s the firing squad for you.’ It’s light enough for me to see the flash of her teeth when she smiles.

  ‘Come here,’ she says. ‘I’ll give you a quick lesson.’

  She walks a little way into the bush. ‘This is the bolt,’ she says, pulling the metal lever up and back. ‘This checks to see if it’s loaded and each time you shoot you do it again to reload. Brace your shoulder and be prepared for the kickback.’

  ‘Where did you learn all this?’ I ask.

  ‘Stan. He never let Beth or Rose know, but he taught me when we were out working in the paddocks.’

  ‘But when the Wilders came to your farm, Rose shot Rat, not you.’

  ‘Lucky shot. She had no idea what she was doing.’

  I hear the sound of a branch breaking and the murmur of voices. We walk back to find Willow, Tahir and Gabriel standing around the fire. There is a haunch of kangaroo in the coals and the air is filled with the smell of singed fur. Gabriel picks it up by the bone sticking out the end and flicks it over. Both the No-landers look at the rifle Kas is holding.

  ‘Have you decided what you are going to do?’ Tahir asks.

  ‘We’re going north,’ Kas says, holding their gaze. ‘When we’ve taken Willow home we’ll bring Warda to you.’

  Gabriel and Tahir talk quietly for a minute. The rifle is important in what happens now—who’s holding it and who wants it.

  ‘It’s a good offer,’ I say. ‘Warda’s a warrior, she’s exactly the sort of leader you need.’

  ‘How do we know we can trust you?’ Tahir says, his eyes narrowing. In the daylight, tattoos are visible on his neck. There’s hardness in his voice.

  This is like watching a game of chess, waiting for the first false move.

  ‘Actually,’ Kas comes back at him, ‘I don’t think you’ve got a choice. We’re going north regardless of what you do. You can go and search the coast as long as you like but you won’t find Warda. You’ll only get hungry and tired, maybe get captured by Wilders.’

  ‘We still have to trust that you’ll bring her to us.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t we? Safety in numbers. We could all work the farm together.’

  The other thing I’m learning about Kas is that she’s a great liar. She does it without having to stop and think and she eyeballs them as she talks. It makes me wonder whether she’s always told the truth to me. Somehow I doubt it.

  ‘Do we have an agreement?’ she says.

  Gabriel and Tahir must have met some tough people when they escaped the city but they can’t quite figure Kas out.

  ‘Do we?’ she says again.

  Tahir can’t bring himself to say he agrees, but he nods, short and sharp. Gabriel looks relieved.

  ‘Good,’ Kas says, reaching her hand across the fire. Tahir takes it but he holds her there a little longer than I’m comfortable with, maybe making the point that he’s stronger than her; she’s got the better of him this time but that doesn’t mean she always will.

  ‘And what will you two do?’ Kas asks.

  Again, Tahir takes the lead. ‘We will return to our farm and tell the others that we have found the girl with the mark on her face and that she has promised to bring her sister to us. That if she does not arrive before the full moon, we will hunt her down.’ The whole time he speaks he keeps his eyes locked on Kas. I see her birthmark flush slightly.

  ‘We’ll bring Warda by the end of the month,’ she says. ‘You have my word.’

  ‘But,’ Tahir says, ‘I have no way of knowing if your word is worth anything at all.’

  Over a breakfast of meat and canned beans, we trade information about the country to the north. Kas warns them to stay clear of the Monahans. Gabriel gives very specific directions to their farm—north-west of Swan’s Marsh, in the foothills of the main range. A creek passes through their paddocks on its way to the Barton River, downstream from Longley. There is an old fire tower high on the ridge overlooking the farm, which makes it easier to find, as long as you know what you are looking for. They use the tower as a lookout; it gives a clear view all the way out to the river.

  The sun is fully up by now and we pack up the camp quickly. Gabriel and Tahir will travel with us as far as Pinchgut, where we’ll turn east along the logging track.

  The road is a mess, and the remaining snow is thicker on the ground. The storms must’ve been fierce up here.

  It takes us most of the morning just to get to the approach to Pinchgut. It looks completely different from the last time we were here. We almost miss the logging track. It’s here we say goodbye to Tahir and Gabriel.

  Tahir rummages in his bag. ‘You’ll need these,’ he says, holding out a small box. ‘Bullets. Try not to use too many.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Kas says. ‘See you on the full moon.’

  He nods, turns on his heels and follows Gabriel up towards the cutting at Pinchgut.

  ‘Hey,’ I call after him. ‘I don’t suppose you heard anything about an older guy; his name’s Ray? Might have been captured by the Wilders—taken back to Longley?’

  Tahir doesn’t turn around.

  ‘No,’ he calls over his shoulder.

  We follow the track for half an hour before stopping to rest. Kas throws her sack on the ground and slips the rifle off her shoulder. Just having the gun with us changes how we travel. We can defend ourselves if we’re attacked, rather than relying on running and hiding. Willow’s carrying the bow and arrows. They might be useful when we get to the valley.

  I can’t stop thinking about Wentworth—that the army was there. They even had electricity. ‘Things could be changing, Kas. For the better.’

  ‘I’m not sure I believe everything they said. No one tells the truth anymore.’

  ‘Like you, you mean?’

  She thinks about this for a while. ‘What I told them was a version of the truth,’ she says, looking off into the bush at the side of the track.

  ‘We might need their help, Kas. We’ve got more in common with them than with anyone else,’ I say.

  ‘I have,’ she says. ‘But I’m not so sure about you. Harry and Stella, they’re more your people.’

  Willow pipes up at the mention of her parents. ‘You could come and live with us, Finn.’

  The idea of splitting up hadn’t even occurred to me.

  ‘My home’s on the coast,’ I say, a little stronger than I intend. ‘Always has been, always will be.’

  Kas opens her sack and takes out some of the strips of kangaroo meat Gabriel gave us before we left. They still have the charcoal on the outside but once we scrape it off the meat is delicious. I’m okay with not talking for a while. The conversation was going somewhere I hadn’t anticipated and I need time to think through what might happen after the valley.

  I watch the way Kas eats, her eyes constantly roaming, wary the whole time. Before we left Angowrie, I thought I was getting to know her again, but since Ray’s place she seems distant. We’re making decisions together at the moment and I want it to stay that way.

  The track is tough going but the further we follow it the less damage has been done to the forest. The snow has almost disappeared. Still, it takes us most of the day to reach the logging coup. We decide to spend the night there. It’s safe to have a bigger fire; even if someone saw the smoke they’d take days to find us. We have more kangaroo and beans for dinner and Rowdy loves the bones.

  I find my way through the bush at the bottom of the coup to the stream where Kas climbed the rock slab with Yogi. It was a trickle when we were last here but now water gushes over the rocks. I haven’t washed since we left Angowrie, so I strip off and ease into the water. I dance about like a madman, splashing myself and washing as best I can. I’m about to climb out when I see Kas standing above me.r />
  ‘You look like a skinned rat,’ she says, sitting down on the rocks and pulling her knees up to her chest.

  ‘Where’s Willow?’ I say.

  ‘She’s okay. Rowdy’s with her.’

  ‘It’s bloody cold in here.’

  I keep dancing around, trying to stop myself freezing to death.

  Kas stands up and turns her back, pulls off her clothes and soon we’re both jumping up and down like idiots, laughing and screaming in the cold water.

  ‘You didn’t tell me it was this cold!’ she says, climbing out.

  We both collapse on the warm rocks, lying on our stomachs, close enough for our shoulders to touch.

  She sees me looking, reaches across and puts her hand over my eyes. ‘Come on,’ she says. ‘Willow’ll be wondering where we are.’

  I wish we could stay here a little longer, soaking up the last of the sun. It feels wrong to be putting our manky old clothes back on and pulling dirty shoes over clean feet.

  Kas leads the way as we climb the rock slab.

  When we reach the track up the side of the coup, she takes my hand. I keep looking at her, trying to match her with the girl that killed two Wilders a couple of days ago, the one that bartered a deal with the No-landers. I’m glad she’s on my side.

  Tonight the twilight lingers as we find a protected spot to roll out the sleeping bags. All I can think of is Kas lying on the rock shelf, her skin against mine.

  Kas’s body is so different, now. She’s thin but that just highlights her muscles. I’ve noticed, too, the way she protects the side of her face where the birthmark is. She’ll always sit on my left, so it’s on the opposite side. But I don’t see it anymore. I just see her. Her eyes and her mouth and the way her breasts push against her shirt. I lean over, wanting to touch her face, and she smiles.

  The darkness of the bush closes in on us and I drift off to the sounds of some animal rustling around in the long grass, probably a fox or a possum looking for an easy feed. I feel safe—no one’s expecting us to be out here, no one’s on the lookout for us.

  There’s been a dewfall overnight and the sleeping bags are damp. The three of us walk down to the pool to wash and have a drink. We eat the last of the meat while the sleeping bags dry in the sun. It’s tempting to stay here longer, to sit on the grass and doze for a while, let the world wait. Kas feels it too. She squats behind Willow and braids her hair. It’s a half-arsed job, though—Willow’s hair is so thick and tangled already. Eventually, we pack up the sacks and begin the climb down the rock shelves on the north side of the ridge. Once we hit the bush again we turn east along the base of the cliffs. It feels strange, retracing our steps, like a little bit of our history rewinding. I’ve got no idea what we’ll do when we get to the valley but Willow is moving more quickly now, smiling at the thought of home.

  There’s a real difference travelling with food in your stomach and plenty of water. We don’t feel as driven to keep moving. Plus, we’re not being chased this time. It’s tough going on the wet, soggy ground but once we get out of the first gully and start moving parallel to the ridgeline, the ground dries out. We want to stay as high as we can, for the shelter of the cliffs and for the view to the north. We’ll need to get a glimpse of the open paddocks in the valley to know when to start making our way down.

  Kas moves ahead of me and Willow, dropping back every now and again to check on us, then striding off on her own again. She looks at home here, moving easily through the bush.

  We take a break after an hour or so, when we find an opening in the canopy that lets more sunlight through.

  ‘We should make it to the valley before dark,’ I say.

  Kas has put the rifle on the ground next to her. She uses a twig to clean dirt from under her nails.

  ‘We have to work out what we’re going to do when we get there,’ she says.

  ‘It’s a bit hard to say, until we find out what’s happened since we left. We’ve got to expect the worst. I can’t see Ramage giving up the valley now that he’s found it.’

  ‘But he left to get Hope,’ Kas says.

  ‘Yeah, but most likely he’s got some of his men in the valley. He could’ve gone back there with Hope, but my guess is he headed to Longley for the winter. It would’ve taken too long to make it through to the valley with the weather turning and a baby to look after. And that woman with him at Ray’s was a Monahan, so they would probably have gone to Swan’s Marsh on the way.’

  Willow has been listening intently. ‘I just want Mum and Dad to be safe.’

  ‘Me too, Wils,’ I say.

  It takes the rest of the day to come within sight of the valley. At first we get glimpses of the open paddocks, a different shade of green to the forest. The afternoon is growing cooler and mist is dropping off the higher ridges.

  We choose a rocky outcrop above where the fences meet the bush. I don’t want Rowdy giving away our position so I tap him on the head, and he drops. The three of us creep to the top and lie down. Willow has been quiet since the valley first came into view. I can’t imagine what she must be feeling, not knowing whether her parents are alive or dead.

  All the houses are still standing and, as best we can tell, the sheds too. This is a relief after what we saw at Ray’s. There is smoke rising from the chimneys of two of the houses.

  ‘We’ve got two choices,’ I say. ‘Wait for it to get dark and then go down and sus things out or stay put for the night and watch from here tomorrow.’

  ‘We’ve come this far. I’m not sure I can wait till morning to find out what’s happened.’ Kas says, shooting a glance at Willow, whose eyes haven’t moved from Harry and Stella’s house, her home.

  ‘What about you, Wils?’ Kas says.

  Before the winter I couldn’t have imagined us including Willow in any of our decisions, but now she’s one of us.

  ‘I want to see Mum and Dad,’ she says.

  Kas puts her arm around Willow’s shoulder and talks quietly. ‘You know they might not be there. They might’ve been taken somewhere else.’

  ‘You mean taken prisoner?’ There’s the smallest quiver in her voice.

  ‘It’s possible, yeah. Ramage could’ve…’ Kas’s voice trails off. She squeezes Willow’s shoulder.

  Something grabs my attention. Movement in the valley. About a dozen figures have emerged from behind a stand of trees near the riverbank. We’re too far away to make them out but there’s something unusual about the way they’re walking—in single file. If they’re returning from the fields at the end of the day, they’d be walking side by side, talking about the work they’d done or what they’d be doing tomorrow. There’s something else that’s odd too—they’re walking so close together they look as though they’re connected in some way. But the last person is a good distance back holding something, like a hoe or a spade.

  Or a rifle.

  By the time the group approaches the buildings they’re less than a hundred metres from us.

  It’s Harry I pick first, the way he walks, his back straight and his head high. He’s at the front and now we can see the chains running from one man to the next.

  Willow has recognised him, too. I grab her by the arm. She tries to wrestle free. ‘It’s Dad,’ she says, her voice loud. ‘It’s Dad!’

  I have to put my hand over her mouth and pull her into me. ‘I know. I know, Wils, but we have to be careful.’ I look her in the face as I say this and slowly take my hand from her mouth. She nods and then climbs back up to the top of the rock to watch what’s happening.

  Kas, who hasn’t moved from her position, says, ‘They’re prisoners.’

  Willow lies on her belly and buries her face in her hands.

  Judging by their height and clothes, all the ones we can see are men. They disappear behind Harry’s house and when they come into view again, a second guard has joined them. They shuffle up the ramp, with the man at the back prodding them forward with the rifle. They are unshackled one by one and pushed through the door,
which is locked behind them.

  When the guard turns, it strikes me how big he is. He looks taller than the height of door. He’s huge.

  We slide down the rock and sit with our backs to it. Rowdy senses something is wrong. He nuzzles Willow, who puts her arms around him and hugs him close.

  ‘I guess we should have expected it,’ Kas says.

  Willow lets go of Rowdy and sits up, wanting to be included in the conversation.

  Kas leans against the rock with her arms crossed. ‘This changes things,’ she says. ‘Maybe we should backtrack and head towards Longley.’ She stares at the ground while she talks.

  ‘What if Hope’s down there? What if they brought her here?’ I ask. ‘And what about Harry and Stella? And Wils, what’s she going to do?’

  ‘We came here to see if it was safe to leave her. Wils will have to come with us. There’s no point her getting captured too.’

  ‘Stop talking like I’m not here,’ Willow says, standing up and putting herself in front of Kas.

  I look around us. We’re not far from the spot where Stella pushed Willow into my arms, pleading with me to take her away. I remember the look on Kas’s face then too, angry and sympathetic at the same time.

  ‘Finn,’ Willow says. ‘Make her stay. Make her help us.’

  ‘I can’t make her do anything, Wils. She has to decide for herself.’

  Kas shoots me a glance like I’ve betrayed her in some way.

  ‘Shit, Finn!’ she says, ‘I wish just for once you’d make a decision with your head instead of your heart.’

  I can’t help myself. I shoot back, ‘I wish just for once you’d think of someone else. I know you’ve had a tough time and you never deserved any of it but you’re not the centre of the universe.’

  ‘Stop it!’ Willow says, standing between us.

  Kas drops her head, and I feel like a prick for what I said.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say, finally, unable to meet her eye.

  Kas doesn’t say anything and Willow sidles up to her. Kas drops her face into Willow’s hair and kisses the top of her head. ‘Wils, the peacemaker,’ she says.