Wilder Country

by Mark Smith

  There’s only an hour of light left. We have to get to the valley quickly, but if we keep going today we’ll only make it to the crossroad near Swan’s Marsh, before it gets too dark to travel.

  ‘I think we should find the No-landers’ farm,’ Kas says, lifting Hope out of the papoose and sliding her onto her hip. ‘Stay the night there and ride for the valley tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s probably the best option,’ Daymu says.

  I know it’s the logical thing to do, but the sight of the two bodies on the bridge stirs something in my gut—a gnawing feeling that seems to combine with the ache in my arm and put everything out of balance.

  We roll the Wilders off the bridge and hide their bodies under a couple of branches. Then we follow the river up into the hills on the south side of the road. After half an hour of weaving the horses through stands of stringybarks and low-hanging sheoaks, the trees thin out into a clearing of rough paddocks. This valley looks lush but poorly tended, narrower than Harry and Stella’s, with open country leading to the main range. Up there, a fire tower sticks out above the forest tops.

  We barely make it out of the trees before No-landers appear on either side of us. They recognise us straightaway and two of them lead us on, while the others melt back into the bush. Over the next small rise we see a farmhouse surrounded by a cluster of sheds. One of the No-landers whistles loudly and people come out into the yard. As we get closer there’s a gathering of maybe twenty people—No-landers and feedstore kids. The place is shabby, the paddocks overrun with thistles and the buildings falling down. We’ve seen a few cattle on the way in but no other stock.

  Danka welcomes us and helps Kas down off Yogi. She looks inside the papoose and smiles. ‘This must be Hope,’ she says.

  ‘She’s hungry,’ Kas says, getting straight down to business.

  Danka leads us to the biggest shed, which is divided into a hay barn and an open space that must have been used for farm machinery. It stinks of diesel.

  Kas and I sit on a couple of hay bales to feed Hope. She squirms and turns her head away but eventually Kas gets her to eat some of the mashed vegetables. When she won’t take anymore, I walk around the shed with her, rubbing her back and listening to her little burps.

  Kas watches. ‘You’d make a good dad,’ she says, smiling.

  ‘Yeah. Think I’d prefer to be her brother.’

  We change her nappy, and Kas goes looking for a place for her to sleep.

  I walk outside to find JT and Daymu. I’ve still got the image of the executed Wilders in my head. If the No-landers are responsible, they’ll have to be prepared for a full-scale assault from the Wilders. It’s something I don’t want any part of; I’m not here to get involved in a war and I’m guessing a lot of the feedstore kids feel the same way. They’re mostly all younger than the No-landers, and the ones here look no less afraid now than they did back in Longley.

  Tahir and Gabriel meet us on the porch and take us inside the house. It’s dark, the low eaves cutting out most of the natural light. A lamp burns on the table, where a map is opened out. There are pen marks, arrows fanning out from what I guess is the valley we’re in.

  We all sit at the table. Tahir and Gabriel are quiet. I get the feeling we’re not a hundred per cent welcome.

  ‘I thought you were heading back to help your friends?’ Tahir says. His face is expressionless and I can’t read his tone.

  ‘We are,’ I say. ‘But we didn’t want to spend the night in the open.’

  ‘Are you sure you weren’t followed?’ Gabriel says.

  Daymu and JT look at me. We are all thinking the same thing. ‘The only Wilders we saw were dead,’ I say. ‘They’d been shot in the back of the head.’

  Tahir’s voice is hard, his jaw pushed out towards us. ‘Sometimes these things are necessary in war,’ he says.

  ‘Are we at war, now?’ Daymu asks.

  ‘It’s not one we started,’ Tahir says, ‘but it’s one we are prepared to fight.’

  ‘Fight with what?’ JT’s hands curl into fists and he rubs them on the table.

  ‘There are more of us, now. And we have weapons,’ Gabriel says.

  ‘More? You mean the feedstore kids?’ JT says. ‘They’re not fighters.’

  ‘If they want to eat, they will fight,’ Tahir says. He wears a singlet and I see the tattoos run all the way down onto his chest.

  ‘And what if they don’t want to fight?’

  Tahir takes his time to answer. ‘They can leave,’ he says.

  ‘And go where?’ I ask.

  ‘Where they go is not our responsibility.’

  ‘You led them here with the promise of freedom and food,’ I say.

  ‘And I said they would have to fight,’ he replies.

  Daymu shakes her head. ‘Even if they do fight, how will you feed them? I don’t see any crops, there’s hardly any stock and you’ve got fifteen extra mouths to feed.’

  ‘A hunting party is going out tonight. Tomorrow we will feast.’

  Tahir pushes his shoulders back. His stare is cold and his lip curls as he speaks. ‘You think you can keep running and hiding from men like Ramage? You know nothing of the world. You know nothing of war. You were not born into it.’

  ‘Most Sileys came here to escape from war,’ Daymu shoots back.

  ‘Yes, but it’s followed you, hasn’t it,’ Tahir says. ‘It is the way of men.’ He folds his arms across his chest, challenging us to argue with him.

  ‘We just want to sleep in the shed tonight,’ I say, ‘then we’ll go.’

  He dismisses us with a wave of his hand. ‘One night,’ he says. ‘And tomorrow you leave.’

  Back in the shed, Kas is walking around with Hope, trying to get her to sleep. Danka sits on a hay bale.

  ‘What did they say?’ Kas asks.

  I fill her in on our conversation with Gabriel and Tahir.

  ‘And the Wilders on the bridge?’ Kas asks.

  ‘Just what we thought,’ JT says. ‘Executed.’

  ‘I don’t like it here,’ Daymu says. ‘It doesn’t feel right.’

  I’m thinking of Harry and the farmers in the valley, fighting a war of their own. ‘If Ramage gets back to Longley in one piece, or if Tusker gets wind of where we’re hiding, we’ll be caught in the middle. We have to get away.’

  ‘We?’ Danka says. ‘Who’s we?’

  It’s a question I don’t want to answer. I’m not just thinking of our safety—food is going to be a huge problem no matter what happens. I look to Kas but she stays quiet.

  Danka stands her ground. ‘We’re all in this,’ she says. ‘I’m responsible for the kids we brought here. We should work this out together.’

  ‘Any ideas?’ I ask.

  ‘What’s it like down on the coast?’ JT asks.

  This is where I was afraid the discussion would lead. Kas and me could survive in Angowrie. We could hunt and fish and grow some food of our own. But we couldn’t support many more.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Kas asks JT.

  ‘Well,’ he says, ‘I know you two want to go back to the valley. But what are you planning after that? Are you going to stay there?’

  ‘We haven’t decided,’ Kas says. ‘We don’t even know if the valley people will still be there. But we need Stella to help look after Hope.’

  ‘I’ll be going back to the coast, regardless,’ I say, and I feel Kas’s gaze bore into me.

  Daymu opens the saddlebags and spreads the food on a hay bale over by the door. There’s bread, dried meat, fruit and cold potatoes. Danka’s eyes widen. ‘Where did this come from?’ she asks.

  But before we can start eating, the feedstore kids make their way into the shed.

  Daymu doesn’t hesitate. She breaks the bread up into small portions and cuts apples into quarters. She does the same with the potatoes and then slices the meat into thin strips.

  I count fourteen of us. We only get a few mouthfuls each. The kids shove the food into their mouths and chew loudl
y, sucking the last taste of grease off their fingers. They’re a ragged lot, and there’s a smell to them that says they haven’t washed in ages.

  The food disappears quickly, and Kas and I find a spot in the hay to bed down. Kas places Hope between us and we snuggle around her.

  ‘What’d you think?’ Kas whispers.

  ‘I dunno. It kinda feels like we’re not on our own anymore.’

  ‘Food,’ she says. ‘That’s the problem.’

  ‘Yeah, you saw how hungry they are.’

  ‘If we had guns we could hunt, not have to rely on trapping rabbits.’

  ‘I know. But we’d run out of ammunition before too long.’

  ‘The No-landers have ammo.’

  ‘For their war with the Wilders, not for us.’

  ‘They can’t feed everyone that’s followed them here. We could bargain with them.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘We’ll take the kids that don’t want to stay here. They must know they’re not fighters.’

  ‘And do what with them?’

  ‘JT, Daymu and Danka can lead them to the coast, while we head for the valley.’

  ‘I don’t know if the No-landers are in the mood to bargain. Tahir doesn’t trust us.’

  ‘It’s a good deal for him. He won’t have to feed the kids.’

  ‘We’ll talk to the others in the morning,’ I say.

  I hardly get the words out before we hear JT say, ‘Good idea.’ He’s in the next stall and has heard everything.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Daymu says. ‘We’re with you.’

  ‘Me too,’ Danka’s voice comes from the other side.

  I have a broken sleep. My arm aches and Hope cries half a dozen times during the night. Kas and I take it in turns to walk her around the shed in the dark. I wake before dawn to see Kas holding Hope on her shoulder. She’s rubbing her back and singing softly.

  ‘How is she?’ I ask.

  ‘Hungry.’

  ‘Like the rest of us.’

  Kas passes Hope to me, then sits down in the hay.

  ‘I think we should pack up and get out of here,’ she says. ‘Now.’

  ‘What’s the rush?’ I say.

  Daymu sticks her head over the top of the bales. JT follows.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about something all night,’ Kas says. ‘Something that doesn’t make sense.’

  Daymu and JT come in and sit down. Danka has stirred too. She walks over and squats in front of us.

  ‘What?’ I say.

  ‘You know when we met Tahir and Gabriel near Pinchgut Junction and you said something didn’t add up?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say.

  ‘They said they were looking for Rose to lead them,’ Kas explains. ‘But, do they seem like a group that needs a leader to you? They answer to no one.’

  ‘Why were they looking for Rose then?’

  ‘Maybe,’ she pauses. ‘Maybe for the same reason Tusker wanted to keep me in the valley last autumn. To bargain—’

  ‘With Ramage?’

  ‘It makes sense, doesn’t it?’ she says. ‘They’d have heard how much Ramage wanted to find Rose. And they obviously didn’t know she’d died.’

  ‘All right,’ I say, ‘but why’s that a problem now?’

  ‘Don’t you see?’ Kas says. ‘Hope is Rose’s baby. The No-landers don’t know that yet, but if they find out—’

  ‘They’ll want to keep her,’ Daymu says.

  JT and Daymu look at each other. JT nods. ‘We’ll help you,’ he says. ‘If any of the kids want to stay with the No-landers, they can, but the ones that don’t, we’ll take them to the coast.’

  ‘That’ll be a tough trip,’ I say. ‘Some of the kids mightn’t be up to it.’

  ‘I know,’ JT says, ‘but if the only other option is going to war, it’s worth a try.’

  ‘You’ll have to steal some ammo,’ Kas says. ‘Somehow everyone who makes it to the coast has to be fed.’

  Kas glances at me as she speaks, and I know what she’s thinking. She’s not sure she’ll be going back to the coast herself.

  Morning light filters into the barn as Kas throws the saddlebags over Yogi. JT has offered to lend us Black Bess, but Kas says she hasn’t got time to escape and teach me how to ride. As for me, I’m just relieved.

  ‘It’s a pity,’ JT says, smiling. ‘I would’ve liked to see surfer boy trying to ride Bess.’ I’m starting to like his dry sense of humour. Of all the people we’ve met since leaving Angowrie, he’s the one most like me. More importantly, he’s given us his rifle to take with us.

  Some of the feedstore kids are stirring by the time we’re ready to go.

  Kas and I have fed Hope and now we strap her into the papoose. We say our goodbyes quickly, wanting to get going before the remaining No-landers are up. As far as we know, the hunting party hasn’t returned yet.

  We climb onto Yogi and Kas nudges him towards the door of the shed. She looks over her shoulder at our three friends. ‘Take care,’ she says.

  The morning is cool and a mist hugs the creek where it winds through the valley. The farm looks deserted. We’re halfway across the yard when the door of the house flies open and Tahir steps out, a rifle in his hands. ‘Stop!’ he yells.

  I feel Kas flinch.

  ‘Hang on,’ she whispers.

  Tahir walks at a fast pace towards us. At the same time Danka leads the kids out of the shed. Flanked by JT and Daymu they place themselves between Tahir and us.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Tahir says, his voice loud, angry.

  Kas wheels Yogi around to face Tahir. ‘We’re leaving,’ she says.

  ‘I decide who leaves, and when,’ Tahir says.

  ‘You said we should leave in the morning,’ I say. ‘And now we are.’

  He looks around for support but the rest of No-landers are with the hunting party. ‘What’s the hurry?’ he says.

  A girl I haven’t seen before, short with a shock of black curls, steps out of the house.

  ‘Vashti!’ Kas says, under her breath.

  ‘The baby,’ she calls to Tahir. ‘The baby belongs to Ramage. It’s not Kas’s, it’s her sister’s.’

  Tahir spins back around and begins waving the rifle in the air. ‘You’ve lied to me, again,’ he snarls. ‘Now hand me the child.’ He raises the gun to his shoulder and aims at us.

  At the same moment the kids press in closer to him, blocking his aim. When Tahir shoots into the air they duck but they come straight back up to protect us.

  Kas digs her heals into Yogi’s flanks. His weight goes onto his back legs and I have to grab Kas to stop from falling as he lurches forward. Then we’re off and out the gate, Kas leaning into Yogi’s mane. ‘Come on, boy,’ she urges.

  Hope’s high-pitched wail rises above the sound of Yogi’s pounding hoofs.

  The road turns away from the creek, a row of trees hiding us from the house. I chance a look back but I don’t think anyone is coming after us. I hope JT and the others are okay.

  Kas pulls Yogi back to a canter. The road stretches out ahead of us to the mouth of the valley. ‘If there’s anyone out here, if they try to stop us, play it cool,’ Kas says.

  Before long we’re out of the paddocks and into the trees. Hope settles with the slower movement. Where the track takes a dogleg, two No-landers appear from the bush on either side of us. Both have guns. I recognise them from the raid on the feedstore, Afa and Kaylo. They are big boys, thickset and muscled under their dirty clothes.

  ‘We heard a shot,’ Afa says. ‘What’s happening back there?’

  Kas is ready for them. ‘Must have been the hunting party,’ she says, keeping her voice casual. ‘There’ll be a feast tonight.’

  Afa smiles but Kaylo moves closer, taking hold of Yogi’s bridle. ‘You’re leaving,’ he says, suspicious.

  ‘We just needed shelter for the night,’ I say. ‘For the baby.’

  He looks up at me. ‘But you’re safe in the valley.’

  ‘We’ve got to
get the baby to its mother,’ Kas says, pulling gently on the rein to try to break Kaylo’s grip. ‘Over past Swan’s Marsh.’

  ‘It’s dangerous country out there,’ he says.

  Kas doesn’t show a hint of nervousness, but my heart is pounding in my chest. ‘We know the country pretty well,’ she says, smiling. ‘Better than any No-Lander.’

  Afa laughs but Kaylo isn’t buying it. He’s about to speak again when Kas butts in. ‘Tahir wants you to head back to the farmhouse. Something about helping with the hunt,’ she says.

  This doesn’t go down well with Kaylo. He scowls. ‘Who elected Tahir leader, anyway,’ he says to Afa.

  ‘Not my business,’ Kas says, ‘but he wasn’t in a good mood so I reckon you’d better do what he says.’

  ‘Let him wait,’ Kaylo says, spitting on the ground.

  ‘Do what you like,’ Kas says, giving Yogi a little kick. We move off slowly, half expecting them to call us to stop but all we hear is arguing. When we get around the next turn in the track, Kas urges Yogi into a canter.

  Once we’re clear of the valley, we ride cautiously towards the road, keeping to the cover of the trees along the riverbank. I like sitting behind Kas, holding her waist, our bodies swaying with Yogi’s movement. Kas’s hair is thick and matted but I love the smell of it. I hold her a little closer with my good arm.

  ‘You right back there?’ she says, turning and smiling.

  ‘Just getting comfortable.’

  Hope wriggles in the papoose. ‘She’ll be hungry again, soon,’ Kas says.

  ‘Let’s see if we can get to the crossroad where the packs are. We can feed her there and keep an eye on the road at the same time,’ I say.

  We see the bridge first, then the road winding off in both directions—left to Longley and right to Swan’s Marsh. As we get closer, I make out the bodies of the two Wilders. We can’t avoid going past them. They throw my mind back to the Wilder I found with the knife in his chest in the paddock at Angowrie, last autumn. His skin had the same horrible blue tinge.

  We pass them quickly, and I run up the bank to check the road. It looks clear so I whistle to Kas. We cross over and I get back on Yogi in the paddock on the other side. It’s a couple of hundred metres to the safety of the trees up the slope to the north. From here, we can ride parallel to the road until we reach the crossroad.