I looked at what I was holding: a pair of binoculars.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Simeon said, all arrogance gone.
I raised the binoculars. Some of the stick-figure trees were moving, twisting back and forth even though there wasn’t the slightest breeze. On some, whipcord branches slowly unfurled and then reached into the sky; on others, they lazily drifted from side to side. I saw one that had wrenched itself from the earth and started barging through its kin, its entwined branches jutting forwards like a wooden prow. I saw another that was like a spike jutting into the heavens. It was devoid of branches and foliage; with a motion as regular as breathing, barbed thorns along its length jutted and retracted and jutted and retracted.
I passed the binoculars to Lyndon. I had to look away.
“Thanks,” he said under his breath.
The soldiers eventually broke from the sight, jumping to their feet and leaving the cliff-edge behind. Simeon, Lyndon and I stayed put, still transfixed.
Jackson hurried back. “Listen up, you lot. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, and we still haven’t made camp – we need to get a move on.”
He stomped away, presumably in the direction of the vans. None of us turned to watch him.
“I won’t say please!” he yelled over his shoulder.
Reluctantly, Lyndon and I got to our feet. Simeon just stayed where he was. Could you believe the nerve?
“Are you coming?” I asked him.
He ignored me completely.
I rolled my eyes, Lyndon snorted back a laugh, and then we hurried to catch up with the soldiers. Dolores and Jackson were hauling backpacks and swags from one of the vans and dropping them in an untidy pile; Joe was nowhere to be seen.
“What can we do?” Lyndon asked.
“Take over here, that’d be great.”
We did as Jackson said, while he and Dolores started gathering some scrap wood for a fire. We didn’t unpack any tents – back in Darwin, we’d been told that they’d take up too much room.
“I guess we’ll be roughing it for a while.”
“I’m sure the good doctor will love that.”
Lyndon and I laughed aloud.
“Hey, speaking of your friend,” Dolores called out, coming back to the van with an armload of wood, “where is he?”
“Where do you reckon?” I answered.
She dropped the wood at her feet. She rested her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed and she smiled slyly. “I’ve been waiting to have a go at that prick.”
She turned away and set off for the cliff-edge. I pulled out my torch and shone it in her direction – she was creeping up behind Simeon, dragging her feet so as not to crack a stick and give herself away.
“What’s going on?” Jackson asked, suddenly appearing out of the darkness, laden down with a stack of kindling.
“Simeon won’t help, so your friend is about to have a word with him.”
“This should be great.”
Jackson dropped the kindling, spun on his heel and shone his torch around the scrub. Joe was a few hundred metres away, crouching down and fiddling with something hidden in the long grass.
“Ah, it’s a shame he’ll miss this.” Jackson turned back to us and pocketed his torch. “Alright, be quiet now – we don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
The three of us watched Dolores level with Simeon and slowly rest her hands just above his shoulders. Almost too fast to see, she grabbed him tight and pushed him forward at the same time. He tottered on the edge, screaming. Dolores let the moment stretch on and on before hauling him back to the flat ground.
“We’re here to protect you, not to work for you. Shift your arse!”
She let him go and he collapsed face first into the dust. I played my torch over him as he struggled to raise his head; he stared at us for a moment and then started crying silently. Two lines of tears cut through the dirt on his cheeks.
It was pathetic. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“You heard what she said, better move it,” Lyndon shouted.
His voice was mean and he was being childish and I didn’t like it. Hell, I still don’t like it.
“Shut up, Lyndon. Just let him be.”
“Sorry?”
“Look at him, he’s suffered enough. You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Huh,” Lyndon said, giving me a funny look and then helping the soldiers make camp.
Simeon slowly got to his feet and did his best to dust himself off. Feeling a bit guilty, I smiled at him sympathetically before turning away and offering to help as well. When he finally caught up to us, Simeon said nothing – he just hung his head and pitched in. Dolores and Jackson started building a fire, while Lyndon and I kicked clean a wide circle around it and Simeon lay out the swags. Joe came back at some point, mumbling something about ‘the wire being done’ before pitching in as well, breaking open a crate of ration packs and passing them around.
It felt good to help. It felt even better being away from the camp.
“Why the fire?” I asked after we’d settled in. “It’s not really that cold.”
Simeon looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Presumably still ashamed, he hadn’t spoken the whole time. To his credit, he hadn’t even complained about sleeping in a swag on the hard ground.
“We’re camping, and so we have a campfire,” Lyndon explained.
“You’ve never slept under the stars before, so what would you know?”
Everyone laughed except for Simeon, although he did smile faintly. It was the first time our little group had come together as one, and I felt all warm and fuzzy. It’s a nice feeling – I’ve snuggled deeper into my swag and started writing, while the others play ‘getting to know you,’ and it’s almost comforting, having their voices wash over me.
Camp Wombat: Day 789
Everything’s gone to shit. I don’t know why I’m still writing in this stupid notebook. I guess it might help the troops in Darwin make sense of the jungle they sent us to investigate. That’s if they come looking for us. If it were up to me – if I could make my choice again – I’d stay as far away as possible, and maybe bomb the place from the air.
I’m getting ahead of myself. And it’s been a really long day, so there’s a lot to tell…
Let me start from the beginning.
Weird noises and general discomfort meant that I slept terribly last night. When I awoke, everyone else was still asleep except for Joe, who was keeping watch. We exchanged smiles and a ‘good morning’ before I drank some water and breakfasted on a ration bar. Without a word, Joe stoked the fire, got the billy boiling then poured me a cup of tea. I thanked him for it, and wandered over to the cliff-edge to look at the jungle.
It was a different kind of strange than last night – dense and overgrown, it was impossible to tell where one strange tree ended and another began. It burnt bright in the morning sun, its muted colours growing more dazzling by the second.
“Incredible, isn’t it?”
I hadn’t heard Lyndon’s approach, and I jumped in my seat but managed not to spill my tea or fall off the cliff. He smiled apologetically and sat down next to me.
“It shouldn’t really be here,” he said. “In fact, you could call it impossible – nothing like it has been seen in the fossil record, or out in the wild. Never. They’re unique, just like the beasts.” He waved his arms expansively, trying to encircle the entirety of the jungle. “Some of it’s like a fucked-up version of Mother Nature, while some of it’s just beyond explanation.”
I scowled at him as he looked down at the jungle.
“It sure is beautiful…”
Thankfully, that was the last he said. I like my mornings quiet and devoid of chit-chat.
The sun slowly warmed the jungle – thin clouds of mist rose into the sky and disappeared on a breeze. Birds started calling, singing sweetly. Something unseen roared in response. A grinding-crunching-crashing sound split the quiet and a flock of winged things took flig
ht, things that were leathery rather than feathered. The breeze picked up; I could suddenly smell something that was simultaneously spicy, sweet, sickly and sour.
“Kim? Lyndon?”
We turned away from the cliff-edge at the sound of our names. Dolores was standing by the fire, Jackson and Joe had already broken the camp down, and Simeon was repacking the van in a kind-of sulky silence. Lyndon and I got to our feet and we boarded our van and started down the hill, with Joe and Simeon following us. Dolores drove slowly, almost a crawl – if anything, the dirt track to the jungle was more rutted than the one into the hills. It was also as narrow as an alleyway, the land on either side falling away into valleys and depressions.
It was an excruciating trip. I kept my eyes shut most of the time.
Dolores stopped the van when the track finally levelled out. I was disappointed by what I saw: a line of gum trees stretched in both directions, until they were just a blur in the distance. It was impressive, yes, but it wasn’t unusual – this is Australia, the land of gum trees.
“Something’s wrong,” Lyndon said. He reached forward, tapping Jackson on the shoulder. “Let me out, would you?”
“No worries.”
Jackson unlocked the rear doors, and Lyndon burst from the van with a surprising amount of speed.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.
He either ignored me or didn’t hear me. I jumped out of the van; we’d stopped on a smallish plain of dirt, hemmed in by the trees in front and the hills behind. It was deeply shaded. I shivered unexpectedly.
“Over here,” Lyndon called.
His voice was coming from somewhere behind the trees. I followed it; up close, it became obvious that the gums were thick and dense, crowded against each other, forming a living wall that we would have to push through on foot.
“Over here, over here.”
I found Lyndon walking a slow circle around one of the trees, his head raised, his eyes fixed on the swaying branches above. “This is wrong,” he said waving around.
“What do you mean?”
“They shouldn’t be here.”
I moved next to him, to try and catch a glimpse of what he saw.
“Be careful,” he said. “This is a widow-maker, it drops branches without warning.”
I looked at the ground around us. Apart from twigs and sticks, undergrowth and the usual detritus of nature, it was bare.
“Where are they then? Surely the ground should be covered in them.”
I didn’t mean to be a smart arse, but he still shot me a dirty look.
“I should have seen it,” was all he said.
“Don’t sweat it, Lyndon. It’s a strange new world, we’re bound to miss things.”
He looked at me, a flicker of panic in his eyes.
“We should get back,” I suggested, “and come up with some kind of plan.”
A nod was his only reply. Back at the vans, Dolores and Jackson were unpacking the components of a portable field lab, while Simeon checked each piece of equipment. Joe was unpacking the other van, hauling out steel crates and leaving them with Dolores and Joe. They were all moving efficiently; I felt a little ashamed at wandering off rather than helping.
“What kept you?” Simeon asked without looking at us.
His voice dripped with superiority; you didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that he was enjoying holding the moral high ground.
“Our boy here was just checking out the trees,” I said, gesturing at Lyndon.
“And what did he find, pray tell?”
“They can’t be here,” Lyndon muttered.
“I’m sorry,” Simeon asked, “but I didn’t quite catch that.”
Lyndon actually took the bait. I couldn’t believe it. “I said that they can’t be here. They’re River Red Gums, they’re thirsty trees – there’s no way that they could grow out here in the desert.”
Simeon smiled smugly. “It seems that you’re wrong. After all, there they are, right in front of us.”
“Bastard.”
“I’m just stating the facts, nothing more and nothing less. You keep saying can’t, shouldn’t and impossible, despite the evidence to the contrary.”
“Shut up!”
The three soldiers broke from their work as Lyndon and Simeon geared up for a fight. They looked amused and unlikely to take charge. I was in no mood to step in, but who else would?
The things I have to do…
“Stop this! Both of you, knock it off.” My raised voice echoed through the trees. “You aren’t children, for fuck’s sake.”
But that’s exactly what they looked like, as they hung their heads in shame.
“Simeon, I would have thought that after last night you’d know when to pull your head in,” I said. “Lyndon, I’m sorry to say it but Simeon’s right. It might technically be impossible for these trees to grow here, but here they are. I mean, the whole world’s impossible nowadays. So just get over it and get to work.”
I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of my mouth. Thoroughly scolded, Lyndon and Simeon both mumbled an apology.
“Not to me,” I said. “Apologise to each other.”
They did so begrudgingly. But it was a start; that was good enough for me.
“Right then – what’s the plan?” I asked no one in particular.
Lyndon, Simeon and I turned to the soldiers.
“Don’t look at us,” Joe said. “You guys are in charge now.”
“You what?”
“Our job was to get you here safely,” Dolores explained. “Now that’s done, we’re to protect you as best we can. You guys are the experts, after all.”
“So how about you start behaving that way,” Jackson added.
He was deadly serious. I turned my back on the soldiers, looking at Lyndon and Simeon. They would fight over a plan; that was inevitable, despite the telling-off I’d given them. I knew it in my gut.
“I guess we’ll grab our stuff and take a look around, maybe gather some samples while we’re at it,” I suggested.
They both nodded in agreement. I couldn’t believe that I was the one to take charge. I still can’t believe it, but I guess that’s how it goes. After all, I’d told myself that I’d do anything to help.
“What’ll we need?” Lyndon asked.
Simeon let out a barking, broken laugh of contempt. “Did you even think about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Take some initiative, boy. What do you think we’ll need?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and just watched them.
“Um, some specimen bags?”
“And what else?”
“A knife?”
“And?”
“Food and water?”
“Why do you keep phrasing these things as questions? I don’t have the answers.”
Lyndon’s jaw dropped.
“Simeon, cut it out,” I snapped, turning to the soldiers.
“I’m assuming all that stuff’s in the van somewhere?”
Dolores smiled at me. “We put together day-packs for everyone, back in Darwin. It’s all about initiative, like the man said.” She tipped an imaginary hat at Simeon, whose face wrinkled with surprise.
“By the way,” Jackson said, deciding to add his bit, “you forgot that you’ll need a camera, binoculars, a first aid kit, a pair of gloves each, and so on and so on.”
“But don’t worry,” Joe said with a smile, “we packed all that stuff too.”
This time it was their turn to look smug. I figured that they deserved to revel in it.
“I suppose we’ll be off then.”
Simeon softly touched my arm and got my attention. He was looking at his feet, avoiding my eye. “Um, Kim, if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here.”
I almost laughed. “Come again?”
Lyndon groaned. Simeon met my eye, his face red with embarrassment. “I’m serious. Please, both of you, listen…”
It was the first t
ime he’d said please to either one of us, and I decided to refrain from interrupting.
“… someone has to stay here and finish setting up the lab. There’s no point in bringing samples back if we can’t analyse them.”
He was right, although it hurt me to admit it.
“He’d only slow us down, anyway,” Lyndon said with more than a little cruelty.
“And thank you for the reminder that I am indeed old and frail. Why, I’d almost forgotten, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Lyndon stared at him coldly. “You’re still a prick, and you’ll be dead long before me.”
He said each word carefully and deliberately, intending to hit Simeon where it hurt. Surprisingly, Simeon resisted his taunt, turning away from us and continuing to check our equipment, something that I have to give him credit for.
“Now, where were we?” Lyndon asked with good humour.
I was starting to dislike him. Not as much as I disliked Simeon, but his eager-beaver shine had faded. The world is cruel enough without our contribution.
“Jackson, Dolores? Can we have our packs, please?” I asked, ignoring Lyndon.
They passed them over. I noticed that they were both ready to go, their packs snug on their backs.
“Which way?” Dolores asked.
I turned to Lyndon. “You’re the botanist, tell us what to do.”
“Um…”
“For fuck’s sake.”
The time had come, and I took charge and pointed at the tree-line. “Dolores? We’ll go that way.”
“Got it,” she said. “I’ll take point, Jackson will bring up the rear.”
She drew her gun and set off into the trees without another word. Lyndon and I strapped on our packs and followed after her, lagging ten or fifteen metres behind, while Jackson brought up the rear.
He’d drawn his gun as well; things were about to get serious.
“You ready?” I asked Lyndon as we crossed the tree-line.
“I guess.”
We started walking, the dry undergrowth crackling beneath our feet. It was hot despite the shade cast by the trees, and we made slow progress through the ankle-deep leaf litter. Despite what Lyndon had said, nothing about the land seemed strange – the air was thick with dust and the smell of eucalyptus, kookaburras laughed and magpies warbled, flies buzzed, the weathered trees stretched on and on. For all intents and purposes it was just another endless sprawl of Australian bush.
We Call It Monster Page 15
