Half Lives (31 page)

I shook my head and buried my face in Chaske’s chest. He held me tighter. He knew I wanted more than anything to open that door. I needed to open it.

‘Icie!’ Marissa shouted. I felt a hard punch on my shoulder. ‘Icie, look at me.’

I shifted away from Chaske.

Marissa came at me. ‘Open the door.’

I shook my head.

‘Icie!’ Marissa’s fingernails ripped at my neck as she slipped her fingers around the chain and yanked. The chain didn’t give. She twisted the chain. The links bit into
my skin. She squeezed tighter and tighter. It was hard to breathe.

Chaske grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her off me. ‘Stop it, Marissa,’ Chaske shouted. ‘We don’t know who it is or what they want.’

I clutched my neck and gulped air.

‘They could have come to rescue us,’ Tate said, joining our huddle.

‘They could have come to kill us,’ I said. I backed away until my shoulder blades dug into the rock wall.

‘What if they need help?’ Marissa’s face was glowing red. Her body was pumped up, like a rottweiler ready to attack.

‘We are not opening the door.’ Chaske’s response was firm but calm. ‘Whoever it is could be contaminated with that deadly virus. Marissa, you said you saw what it did to
people. Do you want to end up like that? I’m not sure we have been in here long enough for it to be safe to go outside.’

‘How the hell do you know?’ Marissa screamed, and raced down the tunnel.

The tapping continued. My heart was pounding. Someone was out there. How could I ignore that?

‘We can’t leave them out there,’ Tate said, looking from me to Chaske. ‘Can we?’

‘We can’t risk it.’ Chaske clapped his arm around Tate’s shoulders. ‘Why don’t we go play some cards in my room?’ He was so calm. He must have had
training for the police or army or some special ops.

That noise was chiselling away the last of my sanity. There was someone out there. Maybe Tate and Marissa were right. Maybe there was no war, no threat. Maybe we could leave.

Then my thoughts flipped like a pancake.

What if it was terrorists come to kill the last survivors? Not for the first time, I wondered if it was an alien invasion. I pictured the slimy, screepy creatures from
Aliens
. I saw the
ripping and tearing of flesh. I’m sure no Hollywood special effects would come close to the horrors of a real genocidal alien race.

Chaske repeated my name. ‘Icie.’ I got the sense that he’d been speaking to me for a while and I hadn’t heard him. ‘Let’s go down to the supply room.
I’ve been saving a Snickers bar for a special occasion.’

‘You’ve been holding out?’ Tate said, giving Chaske a playful punch. It was as if Tate had tuned the sound out, forgotten someone was knocking. He’d so easily accepted
Chaske’s leadership.

Chaske shrugged. ‘It’s a little melted but all the ingredients are still there.’ He tugged on my shirtsleeve and then guided us towards the tunnel.

Marissa barrelled by Chaske, knocking his shoulder with hers. She grabbed me by the collar and dragged me towards the door. I flailed and tried to dig in my heels, but she easily overpowered me.
She hooked her arm around my neck and pulled me forwards. I stumbled beside her and felt the crush of her arm around my throat.

My olfactory senses had mostly become deadened to the stench of this place – our unwashed bodies, the acidic earth and our makeshift toilets – but because Marissa insisted on
exercising non-stop, her skin was sour like sweaty gym socks left in a locker over Christmas break, mixed with rotten eggs. Over it all was the same citrus perfume I’d smelled the first time
I met her.

She shoved me hard into the steel door. The force knocked the breath out of me and I bounced to the ground.

‘Open this door!’ she screamed.

I scuttled away from her.

With two strides she was on me again; she yanked me to my feet and slammed me with one hand against the door. She tightened her left hand around my throat and pressed my head into the door until
I thought her force might actually meld my head to the steel.

‘Open it, Icie,’ she said in a low growl.

Chaske whispered something to Tate and shoved him back towards the tunnel. ‘Marissa, calm down,’ he said as he approached us. ‘We are not going to open the door.’

Marissa released me for a second and fumbled with something tucked in the back of her jeans which used to be mine. She held me with one hand and Chaske’s hunting knife in the other. She
jabbed the knife at me. I flinched away.

‘Open it now, Ice,’ she shouted, and shoved me towards the locking device. I glanced at Chaske. ‘Don’t look at him. Look at me.’ She pressed the blade to my throat.
When she twitched, its cold edge dug into my skin.

‘Stop this, Marissa,’ Chaske said. ‘How is she supposed to do anything when you keep waving that knife at her?’

Marissa went for him. He stood his ground. She touched the blade to Chaske’s chest. ‘Open the door, Ice. You think you know me, but I will do this.’ She dug the tip of the
blade into him. He squeezed his eyes shut but didn’t make a sound. A dot of blood seeped into his dirty, white T-shirt.

One of the things I hated about horror flicks was the token scene where the girl screams and does nothing to help the man battling the beastie – be it human, alien, criminal or undead. I
finally understood how fight and flight can create a bi-polar symmetry that renders you immobile.

‘Don’t you want to know what’s out there?’ Marissa said, and burst into tears. ‘If someone’s alive, don’t we have a duty to save them? You saved me. You
brought us here because you couldn’t let us die. How can you just stand there when someone may need our help?’ She wiped her runny nose on her arm.

I shook my head the non-stop way toddlers do before they can speak. I knew the death and disease we’d locked out. I’d seen those fighter jets. I was pretty sure nothing good could
come from opening that door.

‘Icie!’ She blinked and blinked again, then opened her eyes extra wide as if she might pierce my soul with laser vision. ‘I’ve got to get out of here,’ she said,
completely calm and in control again.

‘Give me a second!’ I screamed. I couldn’t let her hurt Chaske. I couldn’t open the door, but I had to do something, because the one thing I believed with all my heart
was that she would do what she threatened.

Tate appeared at the entrance of the tunnel. ‘I couldn’t find it, Cha—’ He stopped when he saw the knife.

‘Stay over there, Tate,’ Marissa said, pointing the knife at him. ‘Stay out of this.’

I pushed my panic aside. My head cleared. I knew the only answer. ‘Marissa, I’ll open the door on one condition.’

She manically nodded to encourage me to go on.

‘If I open this door, no one is coming in.’ My voice was shaking so badly I didn’t know if the words had actually come out of my mouth.

‘OK. OK,’ she responded quickly.

‘Marissa, think about it.’ Chaske spoke as if he’d been a hostage negotiator his whole life. ‘You don’t know what’s out there. Why should we risk opening the
door?’

She trained her brown eyes on him. ‘You don’t know what’s out there either. I will die if I don’t get out of here. Someone’s out there and I can’t take this
any more.’

‘Are you willing to risk our lives?’ he continued. ‘We don’t know who they are or what they want or what this means.’

‘What have you become?’ Marissa thrust the knife at me and then back at Chaske.

‘I want to make it through this, Marissa,’ I said. ‘I’ll open the door, but no one comes in.’

‘You and Tate get out of here.’ She told Chaske, shoving him away. ‘Now! You’re making me nervous.’ She swung the knife. I dodged away from the blade.

‘Go!’ I shouted. ‘We shouldn’t all get contaminated. We’ll open the door a crack and check it out.’ I wanted him to survive. ‘It will be OK.’ The
lie to end all lies. If someone felt the need to say it, odds were it wasn’t remotely true. Maybe what was meant, maybe what my dad meant and what I meant, was that we would adapt and move
on.

‘Icie?’ Chaske said.

‘Please go,’ I begged. ‘Please.’

Chaske and Tate turned.

‘Run!’ Marissa shouted. ‘I don’t want to see you. Get out of here. Go, or I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

Chaske called to Midnight and they disappeared down the tunnel.

‘Are you sure?’ I asked her.

She moved to the door and stared at the crack that would soon open.

I turned the key in the lock.

The door seemed to consider whether it would open or not before it unlocked with a thud. I moved behind the door and pulled with all my might. She didn’t take her eyes off the widening
gap.

The door opened with a whoosh of air. Marissa peered into the darkness and gasped.

‘Team equals together everyone achieves a lot.’

– Just Saying 161

FINCH

‘S
houldn’t we search for Beckett?’ Cal says, scanning the Mountainside.

‘I’ve told you, Beckett is gone,’ Finch replies. All the signs have aligned. This is his destiny. No one and nothing will stand in his way ever again. ‘Beckett
has betrayed us. I saw him cross the Crown. I don’t want to hear another word about him. The Great I AM has called us to avenge Atti’s death. We must send a message to the Terrorists.
They must leave our Mountain and our people alone.’

They have built a fire on the Other Side of the Mountain. Tom and May will feed the fire and watch for any signs of Terrorists. If they extinguish the fire, everyone is to immediately
return to the Mountain.

Finch’s Cheerleaders have painted themselves black with the ash from Storytime. As the final glow of the sun fades, Finch’s followers blend into the night.

‘Everyone knows what they need to do?’ Finch cracks his knuckles, anxious to set his plan in motion. Everyone nods in response. ‘Then let’s go.’

They have one lit torch that they shield with their bodies. Finch doesn’t want the light to announce their arrival. They need the element of surprise. They silently march in a
disorganized blob down the Black River.

When they arrive at the outskirts of the Man-Made Mountains, they dart from building to building. Finch has always followed but now he can feel something greater directing him. All
this time, he was the real Cheer Captain.

‘For Atti,’ he reminds himself. He feels the slightest twinge of sadness. What’s wrong with him? Harper was distraught by Atti’s death. Why can’t he feel
that? Harper’s gone now too. Finch knows that Harper helped Beckett escape, but he likes to imagine her back on the Mountain waiting for his triumphant return. She will look at him the way
she always looked at Beckett.

He sees shapes dance among the Man-Made Mountains.
Terrorists
, Finch thinks. He flattens himself against a building and signals for everyone to do the same. His breath
quickens and his adrenaline spikes. This place no longer has a hold over him. Finch will end the reign of terror.

He gathers the Cheerleaders together. He can see the fear in their eyes. ‘The Great I AM will protect us. Ours is a sacred mission.’ He lights his torch and lets it rest
in the flame. One by one they all do the same and the fire grows into a crackling ball at the centre of their circle. ‘Today we make a new Walk of Enlightenment. Generations will speak of our
bravery.’

Finch and the Cheerleaders divide and attack from all sides. He can’t believe his luck. The Terrorists have scavenged everything useful from the buildings and organized their
findings into huge piles. They offer the perfect kindling. Another sign that the Great I AM is leading him. He lights fires in the rubble. Figures are beginning to spill from every building.
Cheerleaders scatter.

Finch picks the highest tower. He has always wanted to climb the Man-Made Mountains. He watches the figures flee and determines how to scale the building. He climbs the stairs to the
very top. Wind whips smoke through the broken windows. He looks down on the tiny creatures’ frenzy. Each Cheerleader is supposed to set a fire and then return to the Mountain. Strike like
lightning was Finch’s plan. All around him points of light flicker, small and insignificant, but then they grow and spread and morph into fiery beasties. He is mesmerized by the havoc he has
wrought.

Heat washes over him in waves, cleansing him. Finch feels as if he is beckoning the fires forwards. He cracks his knuckles one by one. Each click of bone on bone releases the
tension.

In his mind’s eye, the smoky figures below transform into Terrorists and assume their ghastly, scaly form. He doesn’t recognize their shape as similar to his, or see their
resemblance to Harper. He paints claws on their fingertips and fangs in their screaming mouths.

He sees a Cheerleader toss a torch into a smaller building. The light vanishes into the dark space. The Cheerleader’s shoulders slump, but suddenly the fire takes hold in a
burst of light. Terrorists descend on the Cheerleader like vultures. They pick him apart until there’s no life left. They have proven Finch right. These Terrorists are savages.