hide them.
I looked at the scrub without seeing it. My mind was a mess. If I’d sat in the middle of a room with speakers all around, one playing Power Without Glory, one playing Beethoven, one Slim Dusty, and one the Stratton Municipal Brass Band performing ‘Advance Australia Fair’, then I couldn’t have been more confused.
Sometimes looking at the bush, sensing its strength, knowing how little it cared about the stupid squabbles we humans got caught in, helped me cope with the chaos of this war. Not this time though. The speakers in my head were going at maximum decibels. They were playing the howl of the falling woman, the voices of the feral kids, the explosion that killed Robyn, the last words my parents said to me, Corrie’s cry when she saw her house destroyed, the sounds of the gunshots when I pulled the trigger in the barracks at the airfield, the cellophane-crackling of the flames in the barn the night when Lee betrayed me. I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t get my mind to be peaceful. An enemy patrol could have marched past with guns ready, and I might have nodded ‘G’day’, but I don’t think I would have noticed them.
It was all very well for Ryan to drop in on us for twenty-four hours and announce that we had to become full-time guerillas . It was easy for him. He’d get plucked out of here again early tomorrow morning. If the war did end in a matter of weeks you could be sure he’d be all right. He’d be safe. But us: we had every chance of being cold corpses in our graves by the time the last shot was fired. What Colonel Finley and Ryan were asking us to do was incredibly bloody dangerous.
If the war did end, Ryan’d be somewhere close to a fridge, and you could guarantee the fridge would be full of champagne. And Ryan would have a corkscrew. He might drink a toast to us, as our bodies rotted away somewhere in Cavendish, but that was about all we could expect.
Then I remembered you don’t need corkscrews to open champagne. I gave up then. Seemed like my brain was rotting away already.
Chapter Four
Nothing in the war amazed me more than the reaction of our four ferals when we told them they had to go with Ryan. Basically they went off their heads. Natalie sobbed and sobbed, and clung to Fi so hard I think she left bruises. Casey lost all her colour and turned away. She walked across to a tree trunk and leaned against it, facing into it. Her good arm went around her back as though she were hugging herself. Jack sank into a little heap on the ground. He rocked backwards and forwards, whimpering like a baby.
Gavin, he was the biggest surprise. He exploded. He ran around the clearing then grabbed a branch that was twice his size and ran straight at Homer like he wanted to kill him, using the branch as a battering ram. If Homer had stood still I think the branch would have gone right through him. Homer at least had the sense to jump aside, but Gavin just gave a little cry of frustration and tried to turn around and have another go. It didn’t work, because the branch stuck between two trees and he couldn’t get it out without stopping and doing it patiently. He wasn’t in the mood for that. He let it go and headed for the edge of the clearing, where we had piles of stuff sitting: Ryan’s pack, and more food, weapons, and bits of clothing. Before we realised what he was up to he started kicking all this stuff around like he’d gone mad. I was upset about our stuff, and then suddenly terrified about the plastic explosive. Sure the explosive was tough and all, but that tough? I rushed towards Gavin but Ryan beat me to it, grabbing him and swinging him off his feet before I’d got halfway.
Ryan was strong, but Gavin kept him honest. He kicked and punched and struggled and bit, until Homer helped by grabbing Gavin’s arms. They held him for five minutes, Gavin rigid and swearing at us in his funny throaty voice. Ryan tried to reason with him, but of course he was behind Gavin and
I looked at the scrub without seeing it. My mind was a mess. If I’d sat in the middle of a room with speakers all around, one playing Power Without Glory, one playing Beethoven, one Slim Dusty, and one the Stratton Municipal Brass Band performing ‘Advance Australia Fair’, then I couldn’t have been more confused.
Sometimes looking at the bush, sensing its strength, knowing how little it cared about the stupid squabbles we humans got caught in, helped me cope with the chaos of this war. Not this time though. The speakers in my head were going at maximum decibels. They were playing the howl of the falling woman, the voices of the feral kids, the explosion that killed Robyn, the last words my parents said to me, Corrie’s cry when she saw her house destroyed, the sounds of the gunshots when I pulled the trigger in the barracks at the airfield, the cellophane-crackling of the flames in the barn the night when Lee betrayed me. I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t get my mind to be peaceful. An enemy patrol could have marched past with guns ready, and I might have nodded ‘G’day’, but I don’t think I would have noticed them.
It was all very well for Ryan to drop in on us for twenty-four hours and announce that we had to become full-time guerillas . It was easy for him. He’d get plucked out of here again early tomorrow morning. If the war did end in a matter of weeks you could be sure he’d be all right. He’d be safe. But us: we had every chance of being cold corpses in our graves by the time the last shot was fired. What Colonel Finley and Ryan were asking us to do was incredibly bloody dangerous.
If the war did end, Ryan’d be somewhere close to a fridge, and you could guarantee the fridge would be full of champagne. And Ryan would have a corkscrew. He might drink a toast to us, as our bodies rotted away somewhere in Cavendish, but that was about all we could expect.
Then I remembered you don’t need corkscrews to open champagne. I gave up then. Seemed like my brain was rotting away already.
Chapter Four
Nothing in the war amazed me more than the reaction of our four ferals when we told them they had to go with Ryan. Basically they went off their heads. Natalie sobbed and sobbed, and clung to Fi so hard I think she left bruises. Casey lost all her colour and turned away. She walked across to a tree trunk and leaned against it, facing into it. Her good arm went around her back as though she were hugging herself. Jack sank into a little heap on the ground. He rocked backwards and forwards, whimpering like a baby.
Gavin, he was the biggest surprise. He exploded. He ran around the clearing then grabbed a branch that was twice his size and ran straight at Homer like he wanted to kill him, using the branch as a battering ram. If Homer had stood still I think the branch would have gone right through him. Homer at least had the sense to jump aside, but Gavin just gave a little cry of frustration and tried to turn around and have another go. It didn’t work, because the branch stuck between two trees and he couldn’t get it out without stopping and doing it patiently. He wasn’t in the mood for that. He let it go and headed for the edge of the clearing, where we had piles of stuff sitting: Ryan’s pack, and more food, weapons, and bits of clothing. Before we realised what he was up to he started kicking all this stuff around like he’d gone mad. I was upset about our stuff, and then suddenly terrified about the plastic explosive. Sure the explosive was tough and all, but that tough? I rushed towards Gavin but Ryan beat me to it, grabbing him and swinging him off his feet before I’d got halfway.
Ryan was strong, but Gavin kept him honest. He kicked and punched and struggled and bit, until Homer helped by grabbing Gavin’s arms. They held him for five minutes, Gavin rigid and swearing at us in his funny throaty voice. Ryan tried to reason with him, but of course he was behind Gavin and
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