sight of the mallet head beside it.
Taylor crouched and followed the handle with her torch. The very end was still wedged in the door. She slipped her fingers in the small gap of light that remained. I followed. We pulled backward but it didnât move. For a horrible moment it seemed like the airlock would be too strong for us. We pulled again. It broke and the door swung open freely.
A moment later we were back in Carousel.
6
We didnât speak about our venture outside the centre for some days. Taylorâs and Lizzyâs nerves were shot. Mine too, probably. Rocky seemed normal, which was slightly concerning in itself. We had closed the door and trudged back to JBâs, backpacks full of supplies, where we watched
Parks and Recreation
, ate junk food and were gentle with one another.
When it was really late and we could no longer pretend we werenât scared to be alone, each of us left JBâs. I walked back to my bed in Myer, too tired to cycle with just a Maglite to guide me. The normally welcoming glow of the fragrance section felt dull and lifeless. I passed giant glowing advertisements with Natalie Portman and Beyoncé like they were old trees in a neglected garden and trudged up the escalator, not bothering to carry any cardboard for the next trip down.
The lights had already timed out to three-quarter dark but I switched off the torch, knowing my way without them. I stopped at the pile of sheet sets bundled outside my bunks. I had only replaced my sheets a few days ago but felt like I could do with some fresh ones again tonight. I grabbed a random bundle and stepped through into my cove.
I made the bed in the murky light and ran over the events of the morning once again. Our failure to break out of the centre was no big deal. Well, perhaps it was, but I donât think any of us, even Taylor, were really expecting success. I had packed the backpacks as comprehensively as I could, but never felt that my decisions would prove significant.
Even the discovery of the car park was a little underwhelming. We were always finding new places within this sleeping giant of a centre. Some nice toilets next to the Wendys outlet. A new row of video games at a bend in the corridor at Hoyts. The small garden with real plants lining some windows at the back entrance. I guess we could just add the staff car park onto this list and forget about it.
But there had been the Fiesta.
Nowhere else in our limited view of the exterior of the centre had we seen a car. Perhaps if they had beenpresent from the first day, left outside or undercover at the back entrance, another part of our bizarre new world, then the solitary Fiesta might not have creeped us out.
I couldnât think of a reason why there shouldnât be a Fiesta in the staff car park. But Carousel had a kind of weird logic that its presence there disrupted. There were four of us. The power remained on. The food supply was abundant. This was the logic we understood. Or if not understood, at least accepted.
The Fiesta left us swinging limply in the realm of fate. It reminded us that, however much we adapted to the centre, our existence remained fluid. We could attempt to break out and set our own agenda. But the reality was that our circumstances were being defined for us, and the Fiesta was part of that.
It also meant that there could be someone else in the centre with us. The thought sent a spike of adrenaline through my arms and I tucked the sheets in hard. Discovering Rocky in Target had been a great thing for us, and him. But there was something sinister about the owner of the small hatchback parked below. All of us had felt it. The way they had parked the car across two bays. As if well aware that the centre was, or would remain, empty. If this person had been here since thefirst day then they were actively hiding from us, or dead. If they had arrived recently through the fastened door then they were somehow in on the Carousel phenomenon.
Taylor crouched and followed the handle with her torch. The very end was still wedged in the door. She slipped her fingers in the small gap of light that remained. I followed. We pulled backward but it didnât move. For a horrible moment it seemed like the airlock would be too strong for us. We pulled again. It broke and the door swung open freely.
A moment later we were back in Carousel.
6
We didnât speak about our venture outside the centre for some days. Taylorâs and Lizzyâs nerves were shot. Mine too, probably. Rocky seemed normal, which was slightly concerning in itself. We had closed the door and trudged back to JBâs, backpacks full of supplies, where we watched
Parks and Recreation
, ate junk food and were gentle with one another.
When it was really late and we could no longer pretend we werenât scared to be alone, each of us left JBâs. I walked back to my bed in Myer, too tired to cycle with just a Maglite to guide me. The normally welcoming glow of the fragrance section felt dull and lifeless. I passed giant glowing advertisements with Natalie Portman and Beyoncé like they were old trees in a neglected garden and trudged up the escalator, not bothering to carry any cardboard for the next trip down.
The lights had already timed out to three-quarter dark but I switched off the torch, knowing my way without them. I stopped at the pile of sheet sets bundled outside my bunks. I had only replaced my sheets a few days ago but felt like I could do with some fresh ones again tonight. I grabbed a random bundle and stepped through into my cove.
I made the bed in the murky light and ran over the events of the morning once again. Our failure to break out of the centre was no big deal. Well, perhaps it was, but I donât think any of us, even Taylor, were really expecting success. I had packed the backpacks as comprehensively as I could, but never felt that my decisions would prove significant.
Even the discovery of the car park was a little underwhelming. We were always finding new places within this sleeping giant of a centre. Some nice toilets next to the Wendys outlet. A new row of video games at a bend in the corridor at Hoyts. The small garden with real plants lining some windows at the back entrance. I guess we could just add the staff car park onto this list and forget about it.
But there had been the Fiesta.
Nowhere else in our limited view of the exterior of the centre had we seen a car. Perhaps if they had beenpresent from the first day, left outside or undercover at the back entrance, another part of our bizarre new world, then the solitary Fiesta might not have creeped us out.
I couldnât think of a reason why there shouldnât be a Fiesta in the staff car park. But Carousel had a kind of weird logic that its presence there disrupted. There were four of us. The power remained on. The food supply was abundant. This was the logic we understood. Or if not understood, at least accepted.
The Fiesta left us swinging limply in the realm of fate. It reminded us that, however much we adapted to the centre, our existence remained fluid. We could attempt to break out and set our own agenda. But the reality was that our circumstances were being defined for us, and the Fiesta was part of that.
It also meant that there could be someone else in the centre with us. The thought sent a spike of adrenaline through my arms and I tucked the sheets in hard. Discovering Rocky in Target had been a great thing for us, and him. But there was something sinister about the owner of the small hatchback parked below. All of us had felt it. The way they had parked the car across two bays. As if well aware that the centre was, or would remain, empty. If this person had been here since thefirst day then they were actively hiding from us, or dead. If they had arrived recently through the fastened door then they were somehow in on the Carousel phenomenon.
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