Nature of Ash, The (14 page)

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Authors: Mandy Hager

BOOK: Nature of Ash, The
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They race off to the bunkhouse to commit their crawly genocide, and I have to admit he’s okay, Travis, when he’s relaxed. That’s the great thing about Mikey: spend some decent time with him and he’s so bloody grateful he’s an instant ego-boost.

I fiddle with the radio until I find a working channel, though it’s almost too depressing to stay tuned. Food shortages are spurring more riots — and Lucinda was right: people have withdrawn all their savings, so now the banks are recalling mortgages, even though most people don’t have enough to pay. I guess that will mean more campgrounds full of homeless refugees. And there’s been a stand-off at one of the coal mines down on the West Coast, with seven locals shot by UPR security guards for trying to break in. I’m starting to dread the bloody breaking news — even now reports are coming in that one of the interisland ferries has been holed at its mooring and sunk. It’s like listening to a badly written play, where the writer’s thrown in
every possible disaster that’s popped into his head. I turn the damn thing off. There’s nothing I can do about any of it except feel sick.

By now the crawly killers have boiled up their catch and brought them back outside to scoff, caveman style. Jiao digs in too, not squeamish at all. Usually I’d be in there, but for some reason the sight of all those tiny corpses makes me feel sick.

Monica drops in late afternoon to check whether Mum’s made any contact. She’s brought five cans of beer, one for each of us. We wander down to the river and sip them in the sun. Mikey thinks he’s the goddamned cat’s pyjamas, playing drunk after the first two tiny sips, though he shudders every time he swallows a mouthful. I doubt he’s ever drunk a whole can before, but what the hell. Maybe he’ll go to sleep early and give me a break.

Ironically, it’s me who crashes first. I hit the sack as soon as it gets dark and only vaguely hear the others climb on to their bunks. I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when I’m woken by footsteps thumping along the outside veranda. I assume it’s Mikey, wandering off for a leak, and I’m still groping around for the torch so he can get back to bed when the door flies open with a bang.

‘Stay where you are! Nobody move!’ A silhouette forms against the open door, then another joins it and the edges blur.

‘Ashy?’ Mikey’s in bed, panic strangling his voice.

‘It’s okay, mate. I’m here.’ I have no bloody idea what’s going on, but I can’t leave Mikey over there on his own.

I leap from my bunk, only to be speared by the beam of a torch.

‘I said don’t fucking move!’

I freeze, and hear a metallic click.
Holy shit
. Is that a gun?

‘Ashy?’ Mikey’s fighting free of his sleeping bag now.

‘Don’t move,’ I hiss. ‘Do everything you’re told.’

I’m going to have a heart attack. It’s pumping so damn hard and fast it’s going to explode. What the hell is going on?

The main light flicks on, and I have to blink to clear the momentary blindness. Two huge men in balaclavas are standing there, one with a shotgun aimed at me, the other brandishing a bloody great metal torch. I have no fucking idea what to do. Jiao’s backed herself against the wall, sleeping bag bunched at her chin, while Travis is half out of his bunk, hands frozen in the air. And Mikey, his mouth gaping like a goldfish, is emitting a piercing high-pitched whine.

‘Please,’ I say, forcing myself to speak, ‘let me go to my little brother.’

The guy with the gun grunts, then jerks the weapon in his direction. ‘Shut him up, for fuck’s sake.’

I race across to Mikey and hold him tight. ‘Shhh now. I’m here.’ He’s shaking and smells of piss.

No one else says a thing. We can only watch in horror as the guy with the torch hooks it through his belt and takes a roll of tape out of his pocket. He lunges for Travis. Wrestles him down and tapes his hands together behind his back. Then he blindfolds him with a strip of rag. All the while Travis holds himself stiff, his mouth set in a defiant snarl.

They pick on Jiao next. She’s half-bloody-naked, wearing only her T-shirt and knickers. If that prick tries anything sexual, I’ll crack his fucking nuts. I will. There’s no way I’m going to stand by and watch something like that. But all he does is blindfold her and tape her hands.

Now he turns to us. ‘Please,’ I say, ‘don’t blindfold Mikey. He’ll absolutely freak.’ He pauses for a moment.
Maybe he’ll actually
… No. While Arsehole One swings the shotgun back to me, Arsehole Two moves in to peel my hands off Mikey’s back. Mikey starts to whine again like a bloody siren. I fight to maintain my hold on him, but the Arsehole has a steel grip. He jerks my hands behind my back. I struggle but somehow he still gets them taped. Now he takes another strip out of his pocket for my eyes.

‘It’s okay, Mikey, just let them do exactly what they want for now. I’m still right here.’ I try to sound calm but all I can hear is his petrified whine. It’s impossible to see through the blindfold. I spit the biggest loogie I can muster towards Arsehole Two.

He shoves me sideways and Mikey starts to scream as if he’s being killed. ‘I’m here, Mikey! Are
you
okay? Mikey? Mate?’ I thrash my hands, trying to break the tape. Both Jiao and Travis yell reassurance at him too. It’s like a noise-bomb going off.

‘All of you shut up!’

The gun fires right beside me and I swear my heart stops.
Please god, no
.

‘Mikey?’

For a moment there’s silence, then I hear him whimper like he’s hurt. ‘You fucking bastards.’ I drop down to my knees, shuffling forward to locate him by sheer force of
will. My knee hits something soft. ‘Mikey? Is that you?’

‘Want Dad.’
Thank god
. I bunt my head towards his voice. Can hear his snotty breathing just to my right.

‘I’m here, mate. It’ll be okay—’ But it’s no good. The bastards have hoisted me to my feet. With their hands hard in my armpits, they drag me outside.

It’s terrifying. I don’t know where I am or what the hell is going on. I hear a car door creak, and feel myself thrown forward. I hit cold metal, and bounce. Mikey’s next, shrieking as they heft him in, then Travis and Jiao.

‘Is everyone all right?’ My voice is shrill.

‘I’m okay but—’ Jiao yelps. ‘Shit, who just kicked me?’

‘Ashy, where are you?’

‘I’m going to fucking kill them,’ Travis says.

‘Ouch! Get off my hair.’ Jiao sounds as if she’s crying.

‘Jow Jow, my eyes won’t work.’

I can hear the scrape of boots on gravel, and then the Arseholes chuck a whole bunch of gear in on top of us. The doors slam again, and the lock clicks. The vehicle lurches forward as the motor fires into life. The gearbox clunks. I’m thrown against the side, my head crashing into metal as the vehicle spins around, then speeds off. Fuck!

I locate Mikey by the smell of piss. Push myself against him so he can feel I’m here. ‘Are you all right, mate?’

‘Dark.’ He sniffs. God damn his crying. There’s nothing I can do.

‘Trav, where are you?’

‘How the fuck should I know? Where are you?’

‘Follow my voice. If you can get over here—’ I start to recite the alphabet as a locator beacon. It takes till
K before I feel his shoulder connect. ‘Okay, let’s try to get one of us free, at least. If you can figure out roughly where my hands are and get your head down there, I’ll try to pull your blindfold off. Yeah?’

‘Okay.’ I feel him squirm around, grunting as he wriggles around behind my back. ‘Don’t fart.’

‘Thanks a bloody lot.’ His hair brushes against my knuckles. ‘Yeah, stop right there.’ I pat around until I find the blindfold, then try to tug it off. ‘It’s really tight.’

‘Tell me ’bout it.’ Travis jiggles his head to help me work the blindfold free, and eventually it gives. ‘Yes!’ He wriggles back up. ‘We’re in the back of one of those fancy-arse pick-up trucks — the kind with the solid canopy over its tray. There’s no way they can hear.’

‘Can they see back here?’

‘Only a bit, I reckon. It’s really dark.’

‘Is there anything around we can use to cut the tape?’

‘Can’t see enough to know. But they’ve chucked in all our gear.’

‘Any clues who they are?’

He’s quiet for a moment. ‘Nah. Lean down. I’ll get
your
blindfold now.’ He slides his fingers down from the crown of my head, then starts to tug. He wasn’t wrong — it bloody hurts — but with a determined grunt he manages to pull the blindfold free.

First thing I do is check Mikey, who’s hunched against my hip, still whimpering. He’s freaked, but there’s no obvious sign of injury, no blood. I shuffle round and work his blindfold off, while Trav does the same for Jiao. Once we can all see again, my blood pressure falls a tad. It’s truly hateful being blind.

I lean down to study the tape around Mikey’s wrists.
‘I might be able to tear it with my teeth. I’ll give it a try, eh, mate?’

His eyes are two dark holes beneath his brows. He’s way too quiet. Doesn’t even answer, just nods his head. I hope to god he’s not been mashed inside.

I lie down behind him in a cloud of ammonia. His pants are sopping, and the tape’s soaked in piss as well. It’s the absolute pits. I start to gnaw, but achieve nothing except a clicking jaw. The whole process so disgusting I want to gag. But I try another tactic, using my front teeth to tear off tiny slivers of tape. Soon I’m on a roll, tearing and spitting, tearing and spitting. Worrying why Mikey’s so quiet.

It feels like hours before I’ve weakened the tape enough. My teeth and jaws ache like hell. ‘Jeezus, Mikey, do some of the work. Pull your hands apart,’ I say. He flaps his arms a little, not even bloody trying. ‘Come on, you big fat fairy, put some frickin’ muscle in.’

He growls like a cornered dog, but nothing more.

‘Mikey,’ Jiao says. ‘Please try.’ She uses a real tragic little-girl voice. Shuffles over and kisses him on the nose. ‘And please, once you’re free, could you save me too?’

Mikey shoves forward that stubborn jaw of his and puts the pressure on. He strains some more. Is chuffing like a steam engine when, at last, he breaks the tape around his wrists and frees his hands.
Halle-bloody-lujah!
Within five minutes he’s released Jiao and she’s sorted both Trav and me.

I try the doors, but it’s no surprise to find they’re locked. We’re stuck in here, four shit-scared sitting ducks.

WITH NO CLUE AS TO WHERE
we’re going or who our captors are, there’s no sensible explanation for what is happening or what the hell will happen next. If it’s something to do with Mum, why all the heavy shit? Or if it’s, say, some kind of opportunistic kidnap, surely it’s obvious none of us has any valuables? Though, just in case, I’ve stashed the cash from Erich in my undies. Fingers crossed they won’t be desperate enough to look
there
.

The only thing it could be — and this scares the crap out of me — is some bigotry against Mikey or Jiao. But who even knew where we were? Unless it’s Bitchface. Yeah. She’s the one person who’s both mean and screwy enough to jack up a plan like this. Trouble is, that brings us to her dad again — and Mum. But why? Our theories go round and round in circles. The only thing we do
agree on, once it’s clear Mikey is dozing, is that from now on we’ll refer to Mum as Grace. The poor little shit is confused enough without suddenly having a mother resurrected from the dead. The more we talk, the more I have a nagging sense that she’s the most obvious explanation for this charming little jaunt.

We must have been in the truck for over an hour when we feel it slow, turn sharply, then come to a stop. I’m so terrified I can hardly breathe. But the engine’s still running and the vehicle soon starts moving again, though the motion has changed. It feels like we’re driving over grassland now, not on a road at all.

Bloody hell.
If they take us out and execute us here, no one will ever know.

‘We need a plan.’ I shift to try to give my aching butt a break. ‘As soon as they open the doors, they’ll know we’re free. We can’t just sit here waiting for the bastards to act — we have to get in first.’

‘We could jump them before they have time to react.’ Travis sounds unconvinced.

Jiao snorts. ‘Yeah right. Then we could sprinkle fairy dust and fly away.’

‘Have you got a better idea?’

‘Cool it, guys. The last thing we need is to fight among ourselves. Maybe the first thing we need to do is agree on a place to meet if we get split up.’

Travis jumps right in. ‘How the hell can we decide that when we don’t know where we are?’

‘Well, we’re within an hour or so of Monica’s camp, whatever the direction.’

‘Should we meet there?’ Jiao asks.

I want to kiss her — no, not like
that
— but it’s nice to
have a little support. ‘Nah, it’s too obvious. I’m thinking maybe worst-case scenario we meet back at the whale in Whanganui. Then we can leave messages with Erich if need be.’

‘That’s a bloody long way away,’ Travis says.

‘Well, I guess we could just roll over and die, mate. That’d be easy.’

‘Don’t shit on me. I’m only—’

‘For goodness’ sake.’ Jiao sighs like an impatient teacher. ‘The whale, okay? It’s decided. Now what do we do next?’

I’m still struggling to come up with a decent answer when the truck bumps to a sudden stop. Our captors are opening their doors, and I’m clawing at my brain.
How
the hell do I deal with this?
The back lock clicks and the doors fly open. A torch beam passes across our faces.

‘Clever bastards, eh?’ one of the men snarls. ‘Get out, grab your packs, and don’t try anything stupid.’

I shake Mikey to get him going while the others scrabble around to gather up our gear. ‘Stick beside me,’ I whisper to him. ‘And don’t do anything unless I tell you.’ He doesn’t respond. No guarantees he’ll keep his mouth shut then.

‘Hurry up!’ We clamber out, clutching our packs to our chests like shields.

‘Follow me,’ the torchbearer says.

We stumble after him across a field towards a stand of trees. There’s a faint light shining somewhere within. His mate follows behind us, his shotgun aimed right at our backs. It’s horribly like the climax to some slasher movie.

‘Don’t like it,’ Mikey says.

‘Me neither, mate. But I promise I’ll keep you safe.’

‘And Jow Jow?’

‘Yeah, sure. She’ll help as well.’

‘No. You keep Jow Jow safe.’

‘For sure.’
Hell, why not? And Travis too. Shit, I’ll take on the whole fucking planet. Just call me bloody Superman.
But I grab hold of his hand as we’re led through the trees. The poor kid is shaking so hard, the tremors run down his arm and through to mine.

Now we break into a clearing. There seems to be a whole collection of huts here, but it’s hard to see. There’s only the arc of torchlight and one lit hut. The men march us towards it and order us inside.

It’s really basic: a kitchen in one corner with a dining table and six chairs, all ancient as hell. The two old sofas opposite are so threadbare the stringy stuffing’s spilling out, and patched curtains have been strung across doorframes to screen the rooms beyond. A kerosene lantern spills light across the table, and there’s a fire dying in a grate between the curtained doors. The room is empty, except for us and these two giant thugs.

Arsehole One ushers us over to the sofas. ‘Sit.’

We pile our packs at our feet and do as we’re told. My heart is thudding right up in my throat. It’s hard to breathe in deeply enough to retain any air. The two men draw out chairs from the table and sit facing us. The shotgun rests on Arsehole One’s knee. His finger strokes the trigger like it’s a woman’s face.

Now they drag off their balaclavas. It doesn’t make things any better. Both men have shaved heads and are tattooed so densely it’s hard to pick out any defining features, except that both have bloody scary eyes. I want
to run, but there’s no point. We’d all be dead before I took two steps.

Arsehole Two points towards the curtained doorway to the left. ‘You’ll sleep in there. Don’t bother trying to escape — you’ll be guarded.’

‘What’s this all about?’ My voice sounds so soprano that heat swarms my face.

‘Wait!’ Arsehole One rises from his chair. ‘Sleep now. Talk tomorrow.’ He points the gun towards the curtained doorway. ‘Go through there.’

We leap to our feet and head for the curtain.

‘Ashy?’ Mikey pulls at my shirt. ‘Toilet.’

‘Hold on till morning.’

‘Now.’

Oh Christ. I put my arm around his shoulder. ‘Mikey needs to take a leak.’

Arsehole Two rolls his eyes. He crosses to the kitchen bench and chucks a pot at me so fast I have to push Mikey aside to catch it. ‘Use that.’ They bundle us through the doorway. Arsehole Two follows with his torch and lights a candle. The room contains a dresser and two decrepit sets of bunks. That’s all.

I hand the pot to Mikey. ‘Sorry, matey, you’ll have to pee in this.’

‘Don’t want to.’ But he’s desperate, so we turn our backs until he’s done.

Jiao nudges the brimming pot into the corner. We climb into our sleeping bags and I squeeze in beside Mikey on one of the lower bunks. It’s pitch black once the candle’s blown out, and the only noise is a faint crackling from the fireplace outside our door. I focus on Mikey, consciously willing him to settle. It seems to
take a bloody age, but finally his breathing thickens and slows. I’m pretty sure Jiao and Trav are lying awake too, but if they’re feeling anything like me they’re too whacked (and freaked) to speak.

My senses are on full alert, my brain bouncing from one thought to the next like a methed-up frog, when someone pulls the curtain aside.
What the—
? A torch beam flickers over each of us. I shut my eyes and lie completely still, sensing how the light lingers on Mikey and me.
That’s her.
Mum. I’d bet my bloody life on it. I’m working up the balls to open my eyes and confront the bitch when the light veers away. All I catch is a glimpse of greying curly hair before the torch clicks off.
If that’s not her I’ll eat my own
shit.
God knows what’s going through her mind — but if she thinks I’m going to run into her open arms and forgive her, she’s more crazy than I thought.

It’s weird, but now I’m fairly sure what’s going on — that it’s Mum and her Muru mates, not just random thugs — I’m ready to sleep. I mean, why else would they bring our gear? Why else would they send us off to bed?
This
, if I am right, is just a few total wankers playing testosterone games. I snuggle into Mikey’s back and match my breath to his …

I startle out of sleep. The silvery dawn is spilling in through a small grimy window and the other three are lined up on the opposite bunk like hungry baby birds. Staring at me. ‘What?’

Mikey rolls his eyes. ‘You sleep too long.’

‘Sorry,’ Jiao says. ‘But we thought it was better if we woke up early so they can’t catch us off-guard.’

‘I think Grace is here,’ I say. ‘Someone peeped in during the night.’

‘Grace?’ Mikey looks confused.

‘She’s an old friend of Dad’s.’

Mikey scowls. ‘Not friend.’

‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ I stretch and climb out of my sleeping bag. The room looks even shabbier in daylight, wallpaper peeling at the corners and mould oozing through the cracks. ‘Lucky they keep this place secret,’ I say, ‘otherwise
everyone
would want to stay here.’

‘A definite four stars,’ Travis sniggers. ‘
And
the shuttle service is free!’

It’s strange that we’re able to joke in this way — nothing’s changed since last night. We’ve been abducted at gunpoint and no one in the world will even know we’re missing, let alone have a bloody clue where we are. And Mum’s presence guarantees nothing at all. She’s still potentially the enemy.

‘Listen, you guys, we need to—’

A door bangs open. All of us leap to our feet. We stand, backs to the window, and wait for the curtain to swish back. Arsehole One fills the doorway. ‘Come here.’ He jerks his head and spins on his combat boots. Disappears into the other room.

Jiao grabs one of Mikey’s hands and I reach for the other. We slip out through the curtain into the dingy main room. Arsehole One is sitting backwards on a chair, leaning his forearms on its wooden back, his legs spread wide as if his balls are so damn big he needs to give them extra space. The only positive is the apparent absence of the gun.

We stand in a row in front of him, and he does the old head jerk again, indicating we should sit down on the sofa.

‘So,’ I say, swallowing down my nerves. ‘Who are you and what the hell is this about?’

His eyebrow twitches. ‘I ask the questions here.’ His tone is razor sharp and slices my bravado to shreds. ‘What do you want with us?’

It’s fucking true! It
must
be Mum.
‘Well, it would help if we knew who the hell you were before I answer that.’

‘I’m Ray. That’s all you need to know.’

‘So you’re Monica’s brother?’

‘I said that’s all you need to know.’ He kicks the chair away as he lunges to his feet. ‘Who sent you?’

‘No one
sent
us.
You
kidnapped
us,
remember? Why the hell did you do that, man? What the hell are you playing at?’ Jiao lays her hand on my arm. She gives her head a tiny shake.
I know, I know. I shouldn’t wind him
up.
‘Look, I’m Ashley McCarthy and I’m trying to find Grace. That’s all.’

‘What for?’

‘Oh, for god’s sake. Our father’s dead, okay? I just want to see what she looks like. I’ve only just discovered she’s alive.’

‘How do I know you’re not lying?’

My hands bunch into fists. I don’t give a toss if he’s Mr Big, I swear I’m going to smack his gob. What kind of arsehole does this to his girlfriend’s grieving kids? ‘Fuck you,’ I say. I snatch up my pack. ‘Come on, guys, I’m not taking this shit.’

‘Ashley, wait!’ A woman bursts through the other curtain. It’s Mum. Older, and really mangy round the edges — in fact, a bloody mess — but it’s definitely her. She still looks like me. All the hairs on my arms and neck rise up. It truly is like looking at a decomposing ghost.

Mikey must sense my tension. He growls under his breath. Mum holds out her arms to me in welcome. I don’t move.

‘So it’s true,’ I say.

It dawns on Mum I’m not about to do the big Hollywood reunion thing and her arms drop to her sides. ‘Please,’ she says. ‘Sit down.’ Her teeth are brown with rot.

‘What the hell was last night about? Your dodgy friends nearly terrified us to death.’

Mum glances at Ray. ‘We have to be careful …’

‘Yeah right. We’re obviously
sooo
threatening.’

‘Don’t disrespect your mother, you smart-arse little shit,’ Ray breaks in. ‘There’s lots of bastards after us and they’ll try anything—’

‘Oh, right. Like they’d blow up Dad and wait for me to track you here. Good plan.’ As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I nearly bloody choke. Fuck. What if that’s true? What if the whole thing’s been a set-up? We’re well and truly buggered if that’s the case.

I feel sick.

Mum runs her fingers through her ratty hair. ‘Please, sit down, Ashley. Let me make you all a cup of tea. I know this is a shock.’

I don’t know what to think. I mean, now I look back it’s all been pretty smooth sailing: Jeannie conveniently losing those threatening notes — or so she said — then dead keen to get us out of town. Lucinda giving me the rough location. That guy Simon who picked us up — he admitted he’d been sent to find us. Even good old Erich led us straight to Monica … Could they all be in on this? I glance over at Jiao, hoping she can somehow
reassure me, but she looks as freaked as me.

At least Mikey seems oblivious to the subtleties of what’s going on. He’s squirming on the other side of me, glowering like a grumpy Neanderthal. He probably needs his early morning piss, like me.

‘Is there such a thing as a real toilet here?’ I ask.

Mum turns back from sorting cups and glances at Ray. He nods his head. ‘There’s a long-drop around the back. Follow the path,’ she says.

We all rise at once and make for the door, which obviously worries Ray, because he follows us out. There are six or seven other huts like this one spread round the clearing, and a couple of snotty blond-haired toddlers are chasing chickens in a patch of sun. We wander behind the hut, into the trees, locating the long-drop by the gut-churning sickly-sweet smell. Ray stays at a distance, leaning against a tree to wait.

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