Nature of Ash, The (19 page)

‘Okay,’ Jiao says, taking the lead again. ‘Maybe you should start from the beginning.’

‘All right,’ says Ana. ‘So here’s the short version. I went to live with Dad when I was six. My mum already had me and the three other kids — they have a different father — but when she got pregnant to her latest boyfriend he wanted us to go.’

Jeez, I’m already feeling bad for her. ‘Where’s your mother now?’

‘Her new boyfriend killed her when the baby turned out like your brother. Stabbed them both to death.’ A terrible silence builds around us. No wonder she’s so aggro towards Mikey. ‘That’s when I went to live with Dad. At first I thought Grace would protect me, but then I learnt.’

‘Learnt?’ Jiao prompts.

‘That she’s fucking crazy. That sometimes she acts like everything’s sweet and then she’ll go all mental. Dad and his creepy friends treat her like shit. One time
early on she tried to run away and take me too — he beat her up so bad she couldn’t see properly, or eat, for weeks. It’s made her even crazier. And mean. So mean. She never stood up for me again — joined right in to prove that she was on his side.’

‘Why the hell does she stay?’

‘I told you — she’s crazy. Besides, he keeps her hooked on meth. And tells her lies to feed her paranoia.’

It all slots into place now. The rotting teeth. The scabs. The hair loss. The restless, freaked-out air. ‘Why?’

‘Muru needs her, she’s expert at helping plan their raids.’

‘
Mum’s
one of the brains behind Muru?’

‘Nah, not the brains — there’s these guys from overseas who call the shots. It’s just she’s good at doing what she’s told — Dad makes sure.’

‘Then what the hell
is
Muru? I always thought it was some kind of separatist Maori thing.’
Tick tock. Tick tock.

‘According to Aunty Mo, in the old days it was an anti-colonisation, anti-globalisation thing. But then these foreign dudes slowly took over. She reckons they kept the name so Maori will get the blame.’

‘Who are they, then?’ I picture those two guys in the camouflage gear and shades we saw with Ray. Bets on that’s them.

‘They talk like State-siders. Aunty Mo’s convinced they’re spies.’

State-siders? So they’re aligned to the WA? This whole thing keeps getting even more surreal.

‘Who do they target with their raids?’ Jiao asks.

‘Basically they set up people they don’t like. Punish some. Destroy others. Make people do or give them
what they want. They’re really bloody secretive but I know they have some contacts in the government and really hate the UPR.’ She sips her coffee, careful not to meet Jiao’s gaze. ‘Dad says they’re on the side of justice — but Aunty Mo
says
they’re a bunch of low-life thugs.’

‘How do they support themselves?’

‘The State-siders have access to heaps of money. Weapons and explosives too.
And
they keep them flush with meth.’ She snorts derisively. ‘It’s meth that makes your mother so psycho.’

All I can do is nod. You don’t have to be a drug expert to know it turns a pussy cat into a tiger in one hit. ‘Please, you have to tell us how to find them. God knows what she’ll do to Mikey.’

Ana looks down at her hands. Her nails are bitten right down to the quick and there’s a scar on her wrist. Perfectly round. A cigarette burn. ‘They’ll know it’s me who’s blabbed.’

‘What if you say we forced you?’ Jiao says. ‘We
do
have guns.’

‘You do?’

‘Please,’ I say again. ‘Mikey won’t understand what the hell is going on. And even if he does manage to get away, he’ll end up in the middle of nowhere, totally freaked. We
have
to find him.’ I feel like I’m going to erupt. ‘I don’t trust Mum not to hurt him — or worse.’

Ana nods. She draws in a deep breath. ‘Oh shit. Okay.’ She walks over to the counter and comes back with a tourist map and black felt pen. Starts to mark out the route, writing neat notes along the side to help. When she’s finished, she pushes it towards me but doesn’t let it go. ‘Promise when you’re nearly there you’ll destroy
this. If Dad or Grace find it, they’ll know it’s me.’

‘I promise.’ She releases the map and I pick it up. Study it as carefully as panic and impatience will allow. ‘Thanks,’ I say, ‘but I have one more favour. If we haven’t come back through within a couple of days, ask Monica to ring and tell this person everything she can.’ I hand her over Jeannie’s card.

Ana stows it behind the counter straight away, as if she can’t bear to have it near. I turn to the other girls, who are whispering over by the food, and put on my best mafia impersonation. ‘If either of you blab
anything
we’ll come back and deal to you. Understand?’ They nod their heads so hard out, I laugh, kind of hysterical. ‘Okay, we’re off.’ I offer Ana my hand. ‘Thank you. And I’m really sorry for what you went through.’

‘Good luck finding your brother. I’m sorry I was so—’

‘Forget it. I’m sorry too. I’ve been just as bad at jumping to conclusions.’ My eyes meet Jiao’s, and I give her a little nod to say this message is meant for her as well. ‘You ready?’

Now the rain has stopped, it’s so much easier to drive back along the gravel road. The moisture’s dampened the dust down too, so we’ll be harder to spot if anyone from the Muru compound is on the road as well. Jiao has the map and tells me where and when to turn, but mostly we try to plan out what the hell to do. Like how we check if Mikey’s there without getting caught.

‘What do you reckon they’ll do when they find out we’re still alive?’

‘Dunno,’ Jiao says. ‘Maybe we should wait until dark.’

‘Why would we do that? We haven’t even got a torch. And no idea where Mikey might be kept.’

‘No, I mean check things out before then, but not actually take him till it’s dark. It might give us a longer head start to get away.’

‘We’ll see.’ Everything’s so bloody hypothetical — we don’t even know if he’s there or if he’s still alive. My head’s so full of shit, it’s impossible to think straight.
Who the hell is driving Muru? What the hell is going on?

I have to hand it to Ana — her map is so precise we have no problems finding the ‘Trespassers will be shot’ sign. I slow the car right down and we peer across the paddocks towards the stand of trees. Their truck is there! Thank god. Though it means they didn’t even bother hanging round — just sent us on our death mission and headed home while someone else pushed the button to blow us up. There aren’t enough swear words in the entire English language to cover such a sick, sick act. Or to describe how much I hate them. I swear to god I’ll go down fighting, that’s for sure.

I keep driving down the road a kilometre or two while we decide what to do. In the end we turn around and cruise until we find an unlocked gate. Drive through and tuck the car behind a gangly patch of gorse, then tear Ana’s map into tiny pieces and bury it inside a decaying tree stump. Now we make our way across the paddocks, climbing the interlinking fences until the truck’s in sight. Work our way around towards it, creeping like big cats on the savannah, low to the ground and every sense on high alert. We reach the truck. Edge up and check it’s empty, then try the doors. Unlocked. No sign of Mikey, but all our gear’s inside.
Halle-bloody-lujah
. Now we have a torch!

I suggest we haul the most important stuff back to the car — even though it’ll take up precious time. But when we start to sort out what to take or leave, we strike a problem: Jiao won’t desert her books. I try to argue but she’s adamant, her face reverting to that stubborn mask. In the end we take it all, a real bloody nightmare without Mikey to help. But Jiao’s placated. She says her books are her best friends.

After a quick breather we approach the truck again, then skirt around the trees, hoping to enter the compound roughly where we think the long-drop might be. With any luck, its smell will lead the way.

I don’t think I’ve been more nervous in my life. Identifying Dad was bad enough, but now my heart’s beating so hard and fast it hurts. It’s difficult to breathe, and every muscle in my body screams with strain.

We pick our way through the mix of scrubby bush, stopping every two or three steps to scan for movement and listen out for danger. The birds are bloody deafening, their noise pissing me off until it clicks they’re working in our favour, helping to mask the sound of our footsteps. Then, about ten minutes in, Jiao signals, pinching her nose. Points through the trees. And there it is: the long-drop. I never thought I’d be so pleased to see the stinking thing again.

Now we know exactly where we are, we hunker down. ‘You stay here,’ I say. ‘I’ll go and check in through the windows.’

‘Remember he could be in any of the huts.’

‘We have to start somewhere.’ I check my phone, hoping for some miraculous return of signal.
No such
luck
. ‘Listen, if I’m not back in twenty minutes, go back to the car and wait. Then, if I’m still not back after another half an hour, get the hell out.’

‘I’m not leaving you behind.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no point in us all—’

Jiao clamps her hand across my mouth. ‘Shut up. I can think for myself, okay? Just go.’

I peel her hand away. ‘Ever since I can remember, I’ve wished Mikey was normal — someone I could really do things with and call a friend.’ I don’t know why I’m saying this now, but it’s welling up inside me and I can’t stop. ‘But you know what? I realise now that’s what he’s always been. I wouldn’t swap him for some boring normal brother after all. He’s far too cool.’

‘Be careful then,’ Jiao says through a watery smile. ‘Mikey needs to hear that for himself.’ She pushes me off balance, forcing me up to my feet.

I edge my way forward, tree by tree. Can hear distant voices — and maybe a radio. Definitely kids. I’m parallel with the well-worn track when I spot the rusty iron of the hut. My heart ping-pongs like frenzied fleas. Have to breathe.
In, out. In, out. Tick tock.
Creep towards the window of the bunkroom where we slept. He has to be in here, surely? I’m crouched below the window now, straining to hear if anyone’s inside.
Nothing
. Slowly raise myself up, until the ledge is just above me. I ease another centimetre higher. Can see the top bunk.
Empty
. Higher now.
No
!
There’s no one there.

Now comes the tricky part. I work my way around the other side of the hut, towards the window of the room with all the guns. Ease up again.
God damn
. No one inside. I squat down on my haunches, gathering up
the nerve to go back round and try the kitchen window. The trouble is, the next-door hut is closer on that side, way more exposed. I don’t know what to do.

As I’m mustering the courage to make a move I hear a whimper. I scan about frantically, confused. I swear it sounds like Mikey — though it could be my wishful thinking is starting to play tricks. I creep a little to the left, into the trees.

There’s the old decaying kennel there, filthy and half falling down. I work my way towards it, alert to every sound.

Jeezus.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it sure as hell’s not this. Poor bloody Mikey. If there was ever any doubt, it’s gone. I’m going to kill the bitch.

MIKEY’S STUFFED INSIDE THE KENNEL
like a sow into a crate. His hands are tied behind his back but, even worse, he’s trussed around the neck as well. A slipknot. He’s tethered to the wood so if he tries to get away the rope will tighten like a noose.

Everything shrinks down to the point of worst insult — the chafed skin around his neck. The edges of my vision blur to red while white noise shrieks inside my ears.
Have to save him. Have to get him as far away from these heartless bastards as we can go.

His eyes are shut, his mouth hanging open as flies preen on his tide-marked lips. I can’t tell if he’s breathing, and I’m too bloody chicken to find out.
What if that whimper was his last?
I need Jiao. Don’t think I can face another corpse alone.

I find her crouched behind the clump of bracken, her
gun drawn and ready to fire. ‘Put that away,’ I whisper. ‘I’ve found him. Need your help.’

Her eyes are freaked. ‘Is he okay?’

‘Don’t know,’ I say. ‘You’re not going to fucking believe it.’ It’s all I can bring myself to say. Any more and I might crack. I take her hand.

As we approach the kennel I feel her bristle at my side. Her free hand shoots up to her mouth. ‘How could they do that?’

By this point I don’t care that we’re out in the open. The bastards have done their worst. We squat down beside him and I look him over, careful not to startle him. There’s an ugly bruise on his temple, and he bloody stinks. Must’ve shit his pants, then been left in them.
If that bitch was here right now
…

‘Mikey.’ I press my hand to his forehead. ‘It’s me. It’s okay now.’ His skin is clammy to my touch.
But warm. Thank god he’s warm.

He snuffles in a breath and opens one eye. It’s a long time before the other follows. The bastards must have drugged him — probably that damn hot chocolate, now I think about it. I’ll bet the little gannet guzzled twice as much as us. He licks his lips with a patchy grey tongue.

‘Dad?’

‘No, matey, it’s me. Ash. Jiao’s here too.’

‘Hey, Mikey,’ she says. ‘We’re going to get you out now. Take you home. But you have to be really quiet. Okay?’

She reaches in and starts to untie his hands. Frees them while I wrestle with the ropes around his neck. He just lies there, staring up at Jiao like she’s an angel of deliverance while she whispers random shit to keep him calm.

He’s so bloody out of it he doesn’t even move when he’s released. We have to coax him out, a little at a time. I can’t bear to think of what it must have taken to squeeze him in. His track pants are pasted to his arse by shit, his shoes nowhere to be seen. Damn it. He’s going to be pissed as hell they’ve gone.

We get on each side of him and guide him back the way we came. It’s a nightmare: he’s so ga-ga he can’t even coordinate his feet. We have to lug him like a crashtest dummy.

I want revenge. Slow, gory, excruciating revenge.

It takes a bloody age to get back to the car. Hefting him over fences. Cajoling him to move. Panting to diffuse the smell. He says nothing. I never thought I’d miss his yabber, but this freaks me more. By the time we get him there, we’re drenched in sweat. We have to wrestle hard to get him in and lie him on the back seat, on top of Trav’s dried blood. I jolly him to sip bottled water to wet his mouth. The poor little sod can hardly keep his eyes open — whatever they’ve given him has written him off. I hope to god it’s not toxic.

Need to get him help.
But first I have some business.

‘I’m going back,’ I say to Jiao. ‘As Dad would say: have gun, will use.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ she says. ‘Let’s get as far away as possible before they notice he’s gone.’

‘I can’t. It’ll eat away at me for ever if I don’t confront them.’ I can’t believe I sound like this — feel like this — but I’m stuck inside my own private horror movie and there’s only one way it can end. The baddies have to die. That’s how it is in horror-movie land. I have no choice.

I drive the car out to the road and park it by the sign
at the gate. While Jiao climbs into the back seat with Mikey I run back across the paddocks, driven by such a whirlwind of rage it wipes away all other thought. Just before I go in through the trees, I look back at the truck.
Hang on.
Why not shoot a couple of the tyres to slow them down? That will still leave four bullets. And the noise will draw them out. It’s bloody perfect.

I take aim, holding the gun with both hands, shaking like a bastard. Brace myself, ready to take flight. Pull the trigger.

Click. I try again. And again. Stand here firing without bullets.

I should’ve bloody guessed. They lied about that too. Set us up so we’d believe we had protection when we had no chance. Their sheer cold-blooded evil disgusts me.

I hurl the gun, shattering the windscreen with a satisfying crack. They’ve screwed my one chance for revenge. I might’ve risked a shoot-out, but I’m not so bloody stupid as to go unarmed.
Fuck them. Damn them to hell.

By the time I reach the gate I’m so volcanic I can barely speak. I slam the car into gear and wheelie off. Within seconds we have to open all the windows, the smell made worse by the humidity that’s set in since the rain. But after about twenty minutes my adrenaline shuts off like a tap. I feel shit. I’m shaking again, the awful implications sinking in. She
never
planned to help us. Must have known right from the start that Ray meant us harm. I’m almost glad Dad’s dead so he’ll never know the depths of her betrayal. I mean, I always knew humans could be monsters — just never thought one of them would be
her
.

When I can’t stand it any longer, I pull over in a layby near the river. ‘Sorry, but I have to wash away that stink.’

I rummage in our pack to find clean clothes, grateful now we lugged the whole lot to the car. Find a towel and the bottle of shampoo. Go round to the back seat and help Jiao rouse Mikey from his stupor. Egg him down the slippery bank to the water’s edge.

‘Are you okay to help?’ I check with Jiao. ‘I’m not sure I can do this on my own.’

‘No worries,’ she says. ‘I’ve had to help him once before.’

Of all the people in the world I’d like here at this moment, she’s bloody tops.

We strip down to our underwear and carry Mikey, fully clothed, into the river. As his legs make contact with the water, his eyes flicker in surprise.

‘What’s—?’ He looks at me and for a fleeting moment smiles. ‘Ashy.’

‘Yeah, matey. It’s me. We’re going to give you a bit of a bath. Get you all sweet-smelling and clean again.’

Jiao rests his head on her breast, the tinny bastard, holding him secure around his chest as I work off his soiled trou and undies while he floats. I used to clean him up when he was small, but I’m out of practice with it. In truth, this feels kind of pervy now.

‘Jow Jow?’ Mikey cranes his neck around until his cheek is mashed against her chest. ‘You went away.’

‘I know. I’m so sorry we weren’t there. But we’re here now.’ She leans over and plants a kiss on his forehead. ‘You’ve done really well.’

‘Hate her — that lady,’ he says. ‘Very bad.’

‘Too bloody right, mate.’ It’s good to hear him string together a few lucid words.

I rinse away the bulk before we shift upstream. Mix river sand with the shampoo to scrub him down. His body’s so strong compared to mine, his limbs shorter and way more sturdy. He’s hairy too — a boy inside a man’s body. Nothing since Jeannie first knocked on my hostel door makes any sense to me — I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like for him. After a good five minutes of concerted scrubbing, all trace of his humiliation is washed away. I rinse his face and hair, then leave him floating in Jiao’s arms while I attack his clothes. I’d throw them out if we didn’t have so few. Now we haul him out of the water. Jiao keeps a firm hold while I rub him with the towel, then dress him in dry clothes. The water has revived him a little and he sits on the riverbank and watches as we wrestle shirts and jeans back over our wet underwear. I try not to look at Jiao.

As we return Mikey to the car, he rubs his paunchy gut.

‘Hungry,’ he says.

Hallelujah
! I kiss his head. ‘We’ll find you something back at Monica’s. It won’t be long.’

As soon as we’re back on the sealed road I put my foot down and boot it, clutching the steering wheel like a limpet as I gun the car round the corners and flat-foot the straights. Ray and Grace will know Mikey’s missing by now, and they’re sharp enough to know who rescued him. I need to coax every sodding kilometre-per-hour out of this thing. But it’s like Russian roulette. Sliding round each corner with fingers crossed. Most of the time we’re okay and the road is clear. But twice I have to jerk the wheel, missing two oncoming cars by sheer luck. It’s a hell of a way to learn to drive.

At last we pull up outside Monica’s store, and Ana comes out to meet us. She sees Mikey in the back and gives a thumbs-up. ‘So it wasn’t as bad as you thought, huh?’

‘You’ve no idea.’ I fill her in, not sparing any details, while Jiao helps Mikey out of the car and into the café.

His jack-o-lantern smile returns at the mere smell of food. But I’m still so amped I can’t sit down, even to eat. Mikey might be safe for now, but Mum and Ray could well be on our tail, and Travis could have bled to death for all we know. I ask Ana if I can use the phone, and ring through to the hospital in Hawera. Convince them I’m Trav’s cousin so they’ll tell me how he is.

‘He needed surgery,’ the nurse reports, ‘and luckily we were able to do it here. They removed the bullet and repaired the damage to his bone. The biggest worry was a rupture in his subclavian artery, but they’ve managed to suture that.’

‘Does that mean he’s okay?’

‘He’s resting comfortably. In a few weeks he’ll be fine.’

If I was there, I’d bloody kiss her. ‘Has my aunt been contacted?’

‘She’s on her way.’

‘Do you think you could ask her to ring me — Ashley — at home when she arrives? My mobile doesn’t seem to work.’

The nurse laughs. ‘Don’t you listen to the news? They’ve shut the whole cell-phone network down indefinitely so the terrorists can’t use it.’

‘Oh, thanks. I didn’t know that.’ Though maybe I did, and I just haven’t processed it till now, just like I haven’t really processed how people mention terrorists like they’re an everyday event and no one really blinks.

Enough
. Trav’s alive and safe. So is Mikey. And Jiao and I are more or less okay as well. We bloody did it! Except—

I almost hear the thud as I drop out of cloud cuckoo land. Dad is dead. And Jiao’s parents are probably next. I’ve failed her. Failed them. This thing is nowhere near finished yet.

I return to the table where Mikey has perked right up. He’s shovelling food in like it’s Christmas.
One up
for gluttony: a Downs
fuck you
to monsters like Mum.
Meanwhile, Ana and Jiao are already a step ahead of me, plotting what to do if Grace and Ray turn up.

‘For goodness’ sake, deny you’ve even seen us,’ Jiao says. ‘Or, if you get enough warning, hide somewhere till Monica’s back.’ She looks at the other two girls. ‘You promise not to tell?’

‘Of course.’ They look insulted that she had to ask.

Jiao turns to me. ‘Then let’s be off.’

I’ve gotta hand it to her, she acts like all that matters now is getting Mikey safely home. If she’s still shit scared for her parents, she’s doing a damn good job of masking it. I wish to god I had her self-control. I write our landline number on a note for Monica, reclaim Jeannie’s card and make to leave.

After a final thank you to the girls, we settle back into the car. ‘That lady stuck a needle in,’ Mikey suddenly says. ‘I fell over. Look … here.’ He points to the bruise on his head, then pouts at me accusingly. ‘You promised.’

‘I did my best, mate. I really did.’ There’s a lump the size of bloody Everest in my throat. ‘I was trying to help Jiao’s mum and dad.’

He reaches round the seat, one arm each side, and
loops them round Jiao’s neck. ‘They okay, Jow Jow?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she says. ‘Everything’s up in the air.’

‘They flying?’

She snorts out a painful laugh and pats his hand. ‘I wish.’

Mikey starts to sing, quietly at first but increasing in volume.
‘Dicky dare, dicky dare, fly your little pig in here …’
I’m not sure if it’s his own mash or some sick porn version he’s picked up, but he sings the damn thing over and over until I’d gladly wring Mother Goose’s neck.

‘Stow it, mate. And put your bloody seatbelt on.’

He must be improving. He throws himself backwards. Slaps on the seatbelt like it’s an instrument of torture, crosses his arms and scowls. I leave him to his sulk, needing all my concentration for the road. I’m knackered now, struggling to focus. Counting every kilometre as it slips away.

Jiao’s caught up in her head as well, silent except for a few worrying sniffs. I feel such a failure — a turncoat — for heading home, but what else can I do? Maybe when we’re there I can ask Lucinda to contact Simon and see if he knows anything or can help in any way. The fact is, we don’t even know what’s going on in the rest of the country — it could be overrun by the Western Alliance by now … or the UPR.
Jeezus
.

As the drive grinds on I start making stupid mistakes. Forget to change gears. Accelerate instead of brake. Mid-afternoon I’m following a tractor that’s been dawdling on a windy stretch of road.
Come on. Come on.
I overtake. And realise I haven’t put my foot down hard enough — I’m still out in the middle of the road as
I head into a sweeping downhill curve and see a truck and trailer unit barrelling up the hill the other way. The driver leans on his horn as I spin the wheel in panic. The Toyota flies off the road, bumping through all sorts of crappy vegetation, ending with a god-awful crunch against a tree.

We’re still sitting like shocked jellies when the truck driver wrenches my door open. He’s pale as hell. ‘What the heck were you doing? You could’ve got yourselves killed.’

‘I— I’m sorry.’ There’s no excuse. Just sheer stupidity.