Mrs Peterson looks surprised. “Oh, very good. Nice to see some of you youngsters still care about these things. We can’t just give in and let everything fall apart, can we?” She smiles and walks off into the mall.
We both breathe a sigh of relief.
I quickly loosen the last screw then press the grill back into place and replace the screws without tightening them. We hold our breath, waiting to see if it will stay upright. It does. On close inspection, you can see the screws are loose but as long as no one looks too hard it should do.
The bald man reappears from the men’s toilets. He takes no notice of us as he walks past. We follow him out of the corridor into the main mall, where Sara and Noah are waiting, and the four of us stroll casually out of the Plaza. The security guards give us the same cold stares as we leave.
“Will it hold?” Noah asks as we walk home.
“I think so,” I say. “Like you said, as long as no one bashes into it.”
“I guess you’ll find out tonight,” Sara says.
***
Sara is gently shaking my shoulder and telling me to wake up. I must have dozed off. It’s dark now. Time to go.
Noah leads Jack and me back to the Plaza. At night Baytown is deserted, except for occasional groups of hooded figures. Noah says they’re Bad Boyz or the Spiders or D-Daze. He recognises all the gangs, but we don’t want to run into any of them, so we hide behind walls or down alleyways until they pass. When we reach it, the Plaza and its carpark are bathed in floodlights, an island of brightness in a sea of dark streets. We stop in the shadow of the last houses and wait.
A security guard appears. He strolls across the floodlit carpark, circling the building, whistling to himself. When he’s gone round the corner, Noah whispers to us.
“Now. Go.”
We run across the empty car park. If the guard comes back now we’re totally exposed in the floodlights. But no one comes. We reach the concrete wall of the shopping centre and climb the ladder. On the roof, above the glare of the floodlights, it’s darker. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to readjust.
Suddenly it hits me.
I put my hands on my knees and gasp for air.
“Are you okay?” Jack asks.
I shake my head. I’m dizzy. I kneel down on the roof and try to focus on my breathing.
“Shit Kaya, what do we do? We can’t hang around up here.”
I take a few more deep breaths. “I’ll be all right,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
Jack looks at me like he’s not sure what to do.
“Don’t just stand there like a stuffed toy,” I say. “Let’s go.”
We find where the air vent comes out and remove the cover, working together, two screws each. We peer in. The shaft drops a few metres, but there’s a ladder fixed to its side.
Jack hesitates. “I ... I don’t ...” He seems frozen to the spot. Jack hates small spaces. Caves, tunnels. He keeps his bedroom door open at night. Even as a baby, he never liked cubby houses. (He’s like the opposite of Blaster, who’s afraid of big spaces.)
It’s not a good start.
“Come on Jack, it’s literally going to take five seconds. Here, I’ll go first.” I climb into the shaft. I have to concentrate hard on holding on to each rung. I’ve got no strength. My arms and legs shake. Above me, I see Jack follow. His legs are shaking too, with fear in his case.
Luckily it does only take a few seconds before the ladder drops us down into a sort of low tunnel. We crawl towards the fluorescent white light at the end. And now we’re at the grill where we were earlier today. Except this time we’re on the inside.
We sit and wait for the guard. Once he’s past, we’ll have fifteen minutes until he comes round again. That’s how long his circuit takes, according to Noah. We listen. All I can hear is our breathing and my heart going thud-thud. Jack peers through the grill.
“Okay, here he comes. Keep quiet.”
I can hear footsteps. Unhurried. A man’s voice, humming to himself. The footsteps grow louder then stop. Suddenly Jack presses himself against the side of the tunnel. He motions to me to do the same and puts his finger to his lips. The guard has stopped right in front of us. We can see his legs through the grill. Heavy black boots, thick black work trousers. His belt. He fingers his gun absent-mindedly.
If he glances down, he’ll notice the grill is loose.
But he doesn’t, because he begins walking again.
We hear a door open. I’m guessing he’s gone to the toilet. That seems right, because a moment later we hear the door again, then we see the guard’s legs as he walks past. The footsteps fade. We wait and listen. Finally it’s quiet again. We wait another minute, just to be safe, then I gently push the grill. The screws pop out. I catch the grill before it falls, but the screws tinkle as they land on the floor.
The sound seems to echo around the empty corridor. Has the guard heard?
Silence.
He must be out of earshot.
We ease ourselves through the opening into the corridor. Jack replaces the grill and the screws. We tiptoe to the end of the corridor and peer cautiously into the main hall. In the fluorescent glare you can’t tell night from day, except of course now there are no people and the shops have their shutters down and doors locked.
Sara has given me her watch. I check the time. We’ve got twelve minutes until the guard returns. We run through the empty mall to the offices at the far end. We pass the security desk and come to a frosted glass window with Department of Security written on it. Jack fishes Noah’s key from his pocket and opens the door.
We know the door is a weak spot in our plan. There’s a second guard sitting in the office at the front of the mall, monitoring the security cameras. He’ll be able to see the door open on his screen. We have to gamble the guard won’t notice. Noah has done security at Blaster’s place. He says after a while nobody watches the screens. It’s just too boring. Let’s hope so.
Jack eases the door open slowly. Noah says a sudden movement will catch the guard’s eye but slow is good. The door squeaks. That doesn’t matter; there’s no sound on the cameras. When the door’s just wide enough, Jack squeezes through. He slowly pushes the door shut behind him. I stay outside as lookout.
I glance at Sara’s watch. Nine minutes left.
I can see Jack through the glass window. He goes to the computer and turns it on. He’s waiting for it to boot up. The printer too. He enters the password Noah has given him (Noah clearly has inside contacts because he’s got passwords and keys for everything). Jack hunches over the computer and clicks away with the mouse. This is Jack’s speciality. I’m hopeless with computers but Jack’s a freak. He can get anything to work. (That’s why he’s in the office and I’m on lookout.) I can see him frowning at the screen. He clicks again and waits. More clicks. We don’t have much time. Four minutes, to be precise.
What’s taking him so long?
I can hear footsteps. Distant, but the click-clop of hard boots on the concrete floor is unmistakable. It echoes in the empty mall.
I tap the window and point. Jack shrugs and points to the computer. He stares down at the screen and clicks the mouse.
The footsteps stop. The guard must be looking at something. Let’s hope it’s not the air vent.
I see sheets of paper emerge from the printer.
The footsteps start again. Closer now.
Jack grabs the papers. More mouse clicks. More footsteps. I tap the window again. The guard will be coming round the corner any second now. We’ve got to move. What’s Jack waiting for?
The screen fades and Jack darts across the office and slips through the door, pulling it shut behind him. The lock clicks as it shuts. Too loudly for my liking. The footsteps are louder too.
“You took your time,” I whisper. “What were you doing, playing WarCraft?”
“Yeah, well, they’ve got a different operating system,” Jack whispers back. “Never thought I’d wish for Windows.
Anyway, let’s go.”
It’s too late. Judging by his footsteps, the guard will be coming round the corner any second now. We look around desperately, but the other way is a dead end.
I point at the security desk. It has a curtain of black fabric that reaches to the floor.
“Under there,” I whisper.
“Great,” Jack whispers back. “A cubby house. Just what I need.”
We dive under the desk. It’s just big enough for the two of us.
I peer through a small rip in the fabric. I can see the guard, walking towards us. He’s out of shape. Overweight. Maybe we could overpower him. He stops right in front of us.
Jack is pressed against me. His heart is thumping so hard I’m afraid it’s shaking the desk.
The guard leans on the desk, breathing heavily. The curtain of fabric around us shakes. I can see his shiny black boots under the bottom of the curtain, just centimetres away.
I’m sure he’ll hear Jack’s heart beating. I can even smell him—the smell of middle-aged man and after-shave. Can he smell us? We’ve been washing with one scoop of water and no soap, so we must stink. Or maybe we don’t have any body odour outside our own world either. Let’s hope so.
Why is he still here? Why doesn’t he go away?
At last the guard clears his throat and walks past us to the Department of Security. He tries the door. It’s locked. He peers through the glass. I watch through the hole in the curtain. The guard looks puzzled. He looks around again, scratches his head then turns and walks back past our desk. After a few steps he stops and looks around again. Then he shrugs and walks on.
We listen to his footsteps fading into the distance.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper when I’m sure he’s out of earshot.
We break cover and sprint across the empty mall. Suddenly I feel my head spin. The corridor feels like it’s tipping sideways.
A moment later and I’m on the floor.
Jack is leaning over me, looking frantic. “C’mon Kaya, you can do it,” he hisses.
I climb to my feet. My legs feel wobbly.
“Can you walk?” he whispers.
I nod. But I’m still in a daze. I know I should be running, but my legs won’t move.
“Just hold my hand and follow me,” I hear Jack say, still whispering. There’s panic in his voice.
I take a couple of deep breaths. I have to move.
“I’m all right now. Let’s go,” I say.
At least everything has stopped spinning. Jack more or less drags me across the mall to the air vent. Once we’re inside, we pull the grill back into place as best we can. It’s just balanced there; there’s no way we can get the screws back in from this side. Tomorrow someone will notice it’s loose but that doesn’t matter. Even if they watch the security tape, we won’t be on it. All they’ll see is a door opening and closing by itself. Let them figure that one out.
“Can you climb the ladder?” Jack asks. I nod. My head has cleared. We crawl along the tunnel and climb the ladder and come out onto the roof, and wait for the outside security guard to pass. As soon as he’s gone, we’re down the ladder and across the carpark to where Noah is waiting.
“Two Inland Permits,” Jack says, handing them to Noah. “As requested.”
Noah slips the Permits into his pocket. “Great work. Any problems?”
Jack grins. “Nah. Piece of cake.”
Back home, I slump onto Sara and Noah’s battered sofa. Once the adrenaline fades, I realise I’m exhausted. My energy levels are up and down like a yo-yo at the moment. Sara looks worried and makes me some dandelion tea but I’m asleep before I can drink it.
***
Breakfast is a treat today, because Sara has done a trade for some eggs. She fries them in her old blackened frying pan. They’re delicious.
Jack and I are still buzzing from our raid on the Plaza last night, but Noah is keen to get up to the High Plateau. There are five days until the full moon and we’re going to spend them teaching Noah and Sara our Dunjini survival skills. There’s no time to waste: Noah and Sara’s lives will depend on how much they can learn.
As we walk across town, Noah is full of questions about the Dunjini. What weapons did they use? How did they hunt? What did they eat? How did they make fire? Sara too. We tell them as much as we can.
We walk up to Castle Heights but near the top we turn off Hillview Street and make our way through the abandoned streets outside the Fortress. When we reach the end of the houses Noah tells us to stop. Between the last house and the forest is a clearing. And running along the middle of the clearing is a wire fence, about two metres tall.
“The Fence,” Noah says. “It’s electrified. Enough juice to kill an elephant, if elephants still exist. It’s to stop people heading Inland. Runs along the whole Coast.”
Noah picks up a stick and throws it at the wire fence. The stick hits the fence and bursts into flame. Its charred stump falls to the ground.
“See what I mean. Luckily for us the Fence is already falling apart, like everything else. There are gaps. Follow me.” He leads us to the left for a few hundred metres.
“There,” he says. I look where he’s pointing. There’s a small rip in the fence, big enough to crawl through.
“Okay, be careful. If you touch the wire you’ll fry. I’ll go first.”
Noah gets down on his stomach and crawls like a lizard through the gap in the fence. He waits for us to follow—first Sara, then me, then Jack. Once we’re all through, we run across the clearing into the woods. Noah says it’s too dangerous to go up the Stony Stairway because the police patrols use that route, but he knows another way, climbing up the cliffs. It’s tricky, though. At one point we step across a rock face with a sheer drop below us. But we all make it to the top in one piece and hike into the forest until Noah thinks we are beyond the police patrols.
Up on the High Plateau, the air is even thicker with smoke from the bushfires Inland.
Now we can begin our lessons. We find a bush called a grass tree and Jack cuts off its tall stem and shows Noah how the Dunjini use it as a spear shaft. Meanwhile I show Sara how to cut away the outside of the grass plant to get to the white flesh inside. I tell her about sucking the banksia nectar, and how the sticky red sap of the bloodwood tree is good for healing cuts, and I show Noah and Sara how to make fire. Just like Wolf Meares.
Eventually Noah says we need to go back. He knows the time of the patrols (like I said, Noah seems to know everything) and he doesn’t want to run into McCain again. Noah says most of the other cops are okay. If they catch you they’ll take a bribe to let you go, like if you’ve trapped a rabbit or something they’ll take that. But not McCain. Noah says he killed a boy last year. Shot him in the back.
We climb carefully down the cliffs and return to Baytown through the gap in the Fence.
***
Two days to go. It rained overnight and today is cooler.
We return to the High Plateau. We’ve been coming up here for the past three days now, for as long as we can. There’s no point Noah and Sara doing any other jobs, like cleaning or gardening, although Noah still has to do his deliveries for Blaster every night. Noah is careful to avoid the security patrols around the Fence, especially when McCain is on duty. We go deep into the forest, far away from the patrols and where the trees and plants aren’t all hacked to bits for firewood. Noah and Sara want to—need to—learn as much as they can before they head for Sanctuary.
We find creeks with yabbies, and I teach them how to weave grass into cord for string and rope and baskets and nets, and we show them the right stones to make spear tips and stone knives, and I get Noah and Sara to practise making fire again and again until I’m sure they’ve got it. I show them how to make glue from the sap of grass trees by heating it. They practise throwing spears with Jack.
Cord, spear, knife, fire, glue ... the essential survival tools.
I have another dizzy turn. They’re happening all the time now.
It lasts about half an hour this time. I sit and rest for a while under the shade of a large red-barked gum tree.
When it gets dark we go to the Stone Gate and watch the moon. We wait until it’s lined up with the Stone Gate. Half past eight. So we know that’s roughly when the portal will open on the full moon.
In two days time.
We go home. As always Noah is careful to avoid the patrols but on the way back I have a scare. We’re climbing down from the cliffs in the dark when I have another dizzy spell and tumble about twenty or thirty metres down a slope, bumping over rocks and tree roots. I’m okay, apart from a few bruises, but I’m rattled. If I’d been on a steeper section of the cliff I would have fallen to my death.
***
Tomorrow is the full moon.
Today we go back to the High Plateau. There are still so many things for Noah and Sara to learn, and so many things we don’t even know ourselves. For instance, I know there must be hundreds more edible plants, but you can only risk eating the ones you’re totally sure about. (Because I’m guessing there won’t be any doctors in Sanctuary either, if Noah or Sara get sick.) If only Pullawarra or Mullimby were here, imagine how much more they could show them. Noah says that, if they do make it to Sanctuary, maybe they can find someone there who can teach them some more of this stuff.
I’m sore from yesterday’s fall. I have a few more dizzy spells, and often have to sit and rest, but nothing really serious.
Tomorrow is the full moon.
I’ve just got to get through one more day.
***
Tonight is the full moon.
It all comes down to tonight.
I wake and sit up on the mattress. How am I feeling? I go downstairs and walk around the garden. The sky is clear and the smell of smoke is fainter. I’m steady on my feet and I don’t feel dizzy. So far so good.
We spend the morning with Noah and Sara, going over some of the things we’ve taught them, like making fire and string.
In the afternoon I try to rest, but I’m too nervous. I lie on the mattress and stare up at the flaking paint on the ceiling. This time tomorrow we could be back home. Or ...