ILLUSIONS AND LIES: Chapter 6

We sped across the countryside, leaving our pursuing adversary to the whim of a farmer who may or may not have been carrying a weapon as he investigated who was tearing up his crop. I hoped, for the sake of the farmer, that he opt against the use of firearms –I had no doubt that the man in the white sports-car would be packing, and his mates, who were close behind, too.

Now that we were on the open road, heading west, I had a moment to breathe, and to ask where the hell we were going.

“The Resistance headquarters is deep in the Kakadu rainforest. That’s where we’re going,” Abigail answered.

“Kakadu? That seems like an odd place to set up HQ.”

“There’s a concentration of energy there that makes it impossible for the NDU to track us. Essentially, we’re invisible.”

“Richie, did you remember to get my puppy?”

Neither of my children had spoken for so long that Sarah’s words startled me. Her moderate tone was also a little shocking –I expected her to be a panicked mess.

“I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t have time to get everything,” Richard sounded genuinely upset by his failure to provide Sarah with the small comfort of her favourite soft-toy.

“You can cuddle me,” Bailey offered.

“Okay,” Sarah replied, before turning her attention to me. “Why was that man chasing us, Mummy?”

Before I could answer, the UHF radio crackled and the voice coming through the speaker sounded irate.

“You imbecile. How could you let them lose you?”

“I’m sorry Sir. I didn’t…” The other man didn’t let him finish.

“I’m coming round from the south side. Meet me on the highway, beside the Bluebird Motel. We’re going to have to call in the Soul-seekers.”

The static was thick as the other man answered and I didn’t understand what he said. Then nothing. We were now out of range and the silence of the radio was somehow more disconcerting than the voices had been.

I thought about the last words I’d heard. I didn’t know what a Soul-seeker was, but I knew I didn’t want to find out. Bailey, it seemed, wasn’t so unnerved by the prospect of knowing what could be so heinous to warrant a name like Soul-seeker. His voice was filled with the inquisitive innocence of a child to whom this level of danger was an alien thing.

“What’s a soul-seeker?”

Richard glanced over his shoulder at me and raised an eyebrow, but it was Abigail who answered.

“A Soul-seeker is a very unfriendly thing, Bailey. But you needn’t worry, myself, and Richard here, have a knack for fending off unfriendly things.”

“What’s fending mean?”

The three of us, the grown-ups, laughed at the simplicity of his question, and Bailey took offence. He folded his arms across his chest and scowled.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” I took his hand in mine. “Fending off means to keep something away, to defend against it. Like when Harry Potter fends off Lord Voldemort in The Goblet of Fire, but doesn’t kill him. Do you understand?”

By this point we were passing the last of the sporadically positioned houses on the outskirts of the suburbs, heading toward the open red-dirt plains of Western Queensland. Those last few houses were mostly timber-clad homes, covered in black mould that appeared as though it had been sprayed on deliberately to conceal some secret past, and too many dirty windows to count, like a hundred murky eyes watching us as we passed by.

“Yeah, I get it,” Bailey answered. “But why are they chasing us?” He reiterated Sarah’s earlier question.

“Because you’re special, Mate,” Richard didn’t hesitate a response. “These guys don’t like us because of what we can do.”

“What can we do?”

“Yes, Richard. What can we do?” I joined Bailey’s query.

Richard just smiled and stared out at the road. I thought he was ignoring the question, until a whirlwind began to take shape on the roadside ahead. It started as a small swirl, picking up dust and leaves, and grew. Soon it was as high as a high-rise building and as wide as the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and tearing up trees and picking up rocks from the open field before us. It was a tornado without the dark clouds to form it.

“Okay, Richard. Stop showing off,” Abigail smacked him on the arm as she spoke. “No need to destroy the countryside by way of bragging.”

His shoulders slumped and the manufactured tornado waned to an eddying wind. The dust settled and it was gone.

“That was cool, Richie. Do it again.”

“No, Honey, Richie can’t do it again,” I eyed Richard from the backseat. “What the hell did you do that for? I thought they didn’t know where you were because you haven’t used your powers for so long –you just screwed that up didn’t you?”

“They saw me at your house, remember? My cover was already blown.” He shot me a look that reminded me of Bailey when I permitted him to have ice-cream before dinner. “Do you have any idea how amazing it feels to use my powers after all these years? It’s like being let out of solitary confinement to absolute freedom.” And with that he lifted the water which was flowing under the bridge up ahead and formed a tunnel of turbulent liquid. Richard controlled the overpass of water with precision as he drove the car beneath it.

Once we were through, the water receded obediently, and Richard smiled a gleaming smile that lit his eyes like two twinkling sapphires. It was the happiest I had ever seen him.

I don’t remember falling asleep but I must have. When my eyes opened it was dark outside and a light spattering of rain tapped at the car as it moved along the highway. Abigail and Richard were speaking in quiet murmurs and both Bailey and Sarah slumbered deeply on either side of me –Sarah tucked against my ribs, a single string of drool stretching from her mouth to my shirt; and bailey with the side of his face pressed to the door, his legs splayed across my lap.

“Where are we?” I yawned as I spoke, the words coming out somewhat unintelligible.

“Sleeping Beauty, you’re awake!”

I did a double take, as the voice came from the wrong side of the vehicle. Richard was now the passenger while Abigail was at the wheel. Richard turned in his seat so he was facing me.

“We just passed Mount Isa about twenty minutes ago. We’re going to stop soon, get some rest. Though, you clearly don’t need any.”

“Then why stop? Why not keep going? I’ll drive for a while so you both can rest.”

“Abigail needs to pick something up.”

I looked to Abigail. “What could you be picking up way out here, in the middle of nowhere?”

“I have a cabin a few kilometres up the road. There’s something there I need.”

I didn’t ask any more questions, just listened to the even hum of the engine and watched as the sky cleared, exposing the stars which glittered like so many pinprick diamonds in the inky blackness.

Soon Abigail turned the car down a skinny dirt road, more of track than a road. The dust settled gently in the headlights as the Monaro came to a gentle halt in front of a ramshackle building. The corrugated iron, making up the walls and roof of this insufficient shack, was dotted with jagged holes of orange rust. The rust crept from the holes and spread across the tin, coating the shack with dirty orange corrosion. It didn’t look very inviting, or very weatherproof for that matter.

Surrounding the shack were a dozen Bottle Brush peppered with vibrant red blossoms. Farther out, towering gums as far as the eye could see –which wasn’t very far in the diminished light of the fallen night. Though, the moon was offering a partial substitute, bathing the land in a macabre glow.

I shuddered at the haunting ambience as I stepped from the vehicle, towing a torpid Sarah and a yawning Bailey with me, some mumbled comments and questions about where we were and why did they have to get out of the car. Then silent obedience, only because they both were too tired to argue.

Stepping across the threshold into the old, run-down tin shed, I expected to see a dusty floor made up of rotting boards, exposed beams half eaten by termites, and maybe a few nailed on shelves holding ten-year-old cans of paint and bottles of poison, dirty, with labels so faded you couldn’t tell what usable product they had once contained. Instead I walked in, carrying Sarah now and with Bailey clutching my hand, to an entirely different scene.

Abigail entered first, lighting a number of candles and a gas lantern so the rest of us could see our way.

A steel kitchen sink against the farthest wall was situated beneath a modest window that overlooked the expanse of uninhabited bush. Under it were two doors attached to a small kitchen cabinet. The interior walls were all lined and well-worn linoleum covered the floors. Antique-looking timber cupboards sat at the heads of a single bed to my right, and a double bed to my left.

   All the bed clothes looked in good condition and clean. The pillows, fluffed and plump, beckoned my weary head to them. But I would not sleep more, not now.

   The paint on the walls and cabinets was faded and peeling. I had no doubt that, being that old, it was lead based paint, but I had no intention of doing any renovations and my kids had both grown past the stage of gnashing their teeth on random objects, so I didn’t give it another thought. The linoleum had cracks and holes and was well worn in a number of places. All in all, this place wasn’t so bad. In fact, I promptly felt very comfortable… and safe. Which was a pretty big deal by this point.

Bailey and Sarah had done enough sleeping for now and were showing signs of life and excitement at having a new domain to explore. They poked around the small space asking a million questions about what everything was, and could they play with this, or jump on that. They climbed on, and under, the beds, they poked through the drawers in one of the cupboards. It was at that point I had to remind them of their manners. Abigail riffled through one of the drawers herself and produced a few sheets of paper, some tired looking markers and three tattered books with familiar cartoon characters on their fronts. The kids happily accepted when she offered the objects to them.

I sat on the edge of one of the beds and Richard joined me while Abigail busied herself in the small kitchenette. It wasn’t long before the scent of chicken broth filled the small space. My stomach growled in anticipation, so empty it hurt a little. It was then that I realised Bailey and Sarah must be famished –none of us had eaten anything since leaving the hospital ten or more hours earlier.

And when the chicken noodle soup was ready the kids scoffed it, and an entire loaf of crusty bread, without a word.

ILLUSIONS AND LIES: Chapter 5

The doctors weren’t about to release a couple of kids who a few hours ago had been in a critical state, so Abigail said we would have to take them without the hospital knowing. Under the pretence of taking them to the garden for some fresh air, we shuffled Bailey and Sarah into wheelchairs. Abigail told the nurse they were to be transferred out of ICU on their return, on account of their improved conditions. I didn’t really get why she bothered, but I guessed it was to contribute to our ruse.

Richard pushed Bailey’s chair while I pushed Sarah’s. As we made our way along the halls and down the elevator, I couldn’t help feeling as though we were being watched by every pair of eyes we passed, like I was doing something devious and criminal. If you want to be technical about it, we were. I resented the feeling though. I had an overwhelming urge to say “I didn’t realise this was a prison” to the next person who cast a glare in our direction. But I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut and followed Abigail down the corridor.

When we got to the floor my room was on, Abigail told us to head out to the garden and wait for her there. As she walked toward my room, we turned for the exit.

In the garden Sarah asked me to pick a flower for her.

“Why don’t you see if you can hop up and pick one for yourself, Sarah?” I shot Richard a curious look. “She needs to get back on her feet, Bailey too. She’ll be fine,” he said.

Bailey took Richard’s cue and got out of his wheelchair. He walked over and wrapped his arms around my neck. He whispered, “I love you, Mummy,” and kissed my cheek.

“I love you too, Bailey. How about we help your sister pick some flowers?” Bailey took my hand, and I took Sarah’s. “Come on my princess. Let’s pick some flowers together.”

She stood, hesitating for a moment, waiting for the pain to present itself. When it didn’t, Sarah grinned up at me and tugged my arm ferociously.

“I wan da pink ones,” she shrieked, dragging me forward.

We picked a flower each, and Sarah insisted Richard wear a pink one behind his ear, he obliged graciously, when Abigail emerged carrying my handbag.

“You’ll need your purse. Let’s go.” She walked past us without slowing.

I swept Sarah into my arms and told Richard to grab Bailey, and we followed her out to the parking lot. I almost had to run to keep up, Abigail’s legs being a foot longer than mine. And she was powerwalking.

“Richard, we’ll take your car,” Abigail said. “They’ll be looking for mine.”

“And Richard’s bright yellow Monaro will be really inconspicuous!” It wasn’t really the time for sarcasm, I know, but I couldn’t stop the thought from escaping my lips.

“Not helping, Charlie,” Richard said, as he pulled his keys from his pocket and pressed the button. “Pile in.”

Any other time it would have bothered me that Abigail helped herself to the front seat, and it did bother me a little that day too. However, I was not about to start acting like a jealous teenager under these circumstances, even if I was thinking like one.

Once we were on the road, Abigail opened Richard’s glove-box and pulled out a UHF radio. She flicked the switch and turned the dial to the channel she wanted. The only sound was static.

“What are you listening for?” I asked, peering between the seats into the front.

“The people who are looking for us communicate on a secure channel. We have access to their channel.”

“You’re hoping to hear how close they are?”

She nodded.

“We’re out of the hospital now. Tell me what’s going on.”

“First things first. Richard has to go to your house and get some clothes for you and the kids, and anything else you need.” Abigail handed me a piece of paper and a pen from the glove-box. “Here, write down anything you want Richard to pick up. Stick to the essentials, though. He won’t have much time.”

“Why can’t I do it myself?”

“Because they’ll be expecting you. They track us by the use of our powers. Their equipment monitors energy signals, the same way meteorology equipment monitors the precipitation in the air to predict weather patterns. That’s why I knew they would be coming for you –when you were in the ambulance you used your power to heal your children. It’s like you sent up a flare.”

“But if I used my powers, why didn’t Bailey and Sarah fully recover immediately?”

“Because you didn’t know you had the power to heal them. It was your desire to save them that triggered your power. And your ignorance of it meant your powers were not being used at full strength, and you’re lucky they weren’t.”

“How is that lucky? My kids could have died.”

“If you had been using your full power, you would have died. You were drawing from yourself. Remember what I said?”

I nodded. “Okay, but if they can monitor our use of power, how can Richard be safer than us? He has powers too.”

“He didn’t use his powers.”

“Haven’t used them for four years. Not since I met you, Charlie,” Richard interjected.

By now we were two blocks from my street. I had written a short list of items for Richard to gather from my house. Richard pulled the car over.

“End of the line. Everybody out.”

I climbed out, ambivalently, Bailey and Sarah following. I closed the door and handed Richard the list through the window. He clasped my hand and pulled me toward him.

“Don’t look so worried, Charlie. I’ll be back in flash.” He pointed at his cheek. “Now lay one on me and go wait with Abigail like a good little girl.”

I slapped his cheek playfully. He frowned.

“Isn’t that what you wanted, me to lay one on you?”

He put a warm hand on each of my cheeks and pulled my face through the window. He kissed me, deeply and passionately.

“That’s what I wanted,” he said, as he released me. “See ya in a tic.” And he was gone, screeching tyres as he took off.  

I wandered over to the patch of grass where Abigail sat with my children. Edging between Bailey and Sarah, I wrapped an arm around each of them and pulled them tight against me. I took a moment to enjoy the last of the day’s warmth soaking into my skin.

“Strange day huh?” Abigail said.

“I’ve had worse.”

We both laughed lightly.

“He’s going to be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”

“How do you and Richard know each other so well?”

“We’re recovery agents for the resistance. We started working together when we were teenagers.”

“What’s a recovery agent?”

“Exactly what you would imagine. We recover things, people mostly.”

“People like me?”

“Yes. There are fifty-seven of us in total. The resistance has endeavoured to find all fifty-seven, to keep us safe from the NDU. You were the last one.”

“I can guess what the resistance is –a group of people who know what’s really going on and want to stop it somehow?”

“That’s right.”

“Why didn’t Richard tell me about all this when he met me?”

“He wasn’t sure. To be honest, I don’t think he wanted it to be true.” Abigail looked at me with tenderness in her eyes. “You see, the first time he met you he called me and told me he’d found you. He said he’d get a job in your café in order to do some recon, make sure you were a healer, before bringing you in. Once he got to know you though, he started to fall in love with you.”

“If he was falling in love with me, why didn’t he want me to be part of his world?”

“Are you serious? Would you choose this life for your kids?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. It’s the classic boy-risks-life-and-sacrifices-his-own-happiness-for-girl-he-loves story, or something like that. He didn’t want it to be true because he didn’t want you to be in danger from the NDU. He wanted you to have a normal life.”

“Why didn’t he tell me he loved me after Nick died? Why did he wait til two days ago?”

“Don’t you get it? He is what he is. If he started a relationship with you, you would have been drawn into his world at some point, regardless of whether you were a healer or not. Once you used your power he knew your chance at a normal life was over, and he was free to tell how he feels, guilt free.”

“That’s so… romantic. In a narcissistic kind of way.”

“Narcissistic? He was doing it for you!”

“Don’t you think I deserved the chance to decide for myself? Not to mention, it might have been nice to know there was an anvil of doom hanging above my head that could drop at any moment.”

Just then, Richard came tearing around the corner, his Monaro sideways, tyres screaming on the asphalt. He barely stopped as he yelled at us to get in. I hadn’t even closed the door when his foot hit the throttle. The velocity slammed me back against the seat and slammed the door shut.

Once we were moving and all seatbelts were fastened, I heard the reason for Richard’s haste. The crackling of the UHF radio was being interrupted by bursts of dialogue. One voice, deep and gravelly, shouted through the speaker, informing the other listeners of the street we were on and what direction we were heading. Another voice questioned if the man was sure that we were travelling with Richard. The first voice yelled that he was sure, he’d just witnessed us getting in the car.

I turned around and looked out the back window. A white sporty-looking car was behind us. It was low to the ground with the kind of aerodynamic shape that only really fast cars have. I didn’t know what it was exactly, I never knew much about foreign cars. But I knew its speed scared me. The Monaro is fast, but this thing was gaining.

“They’re catching up!” I screamed.

Richard yelled, over the roar of the engine. “They might outrun me on the streets, but that little front-wheel-drive can’t handle dirt.”

“What dirt? We’re in the middle of the suburbs.”

“Leave it to me. Just hold on.”

By the time we reached the end of the street, the white sports car was right behind us. I wondered why, if they’d wanted us dead, they weren’t shooting at us or something like that, but thought better of it –they wouldn’t want to draw more attention than was already drawn by the revving engines and screeching tyres.

Richard made a hard left, sending the Monaro into a sideways slide, and punched his foot to the floor. My eyes still fixed on the car tailing us, I saw the smoke from the tyres as the Monaro accelerated toward the next corner. A hard right into a street marked with a NO THROUGH ROAD sign. It was a dead-end. We were trapped.

The crackling voice coming through the UHF confirmed my fear.

“They’ve got nowhere to go. We’ve got ‘em.”

“We’re right behind you. Don’t let them get away.”

As we neared the end of the dead-end street, Richard slowed, but not by much. He pointed the car at the gutter between two houses, one of which had a small boy playing in the front yard and a very alarmed mother by his side. The woman grabbed the toddler by the arm and dragged him backward, toward their front door. The car jostled violently as we hit the gutter. Two squeals let out from either side of me. I looked down at Bailey and Sarah, both had looks of shock upon their faces. Bailey seemed more surprised than anything else, whereas Sarah looked plain terrified. Neither of them had said a word since getting in the car.

The Monaro sped between the houses, tearing up the adjoining lawn, Richard in complete control the entire time. I wondered momentarily how many times he had done this. As we exited the narrow laneway, I saw where Richard was planning to lose our pursuers. He took another hard left onto the street where we came out. At its end I saw a single driveway leading to a large property. It was the first of many cane fields that edged the suburbs in this part of town. The dirt Richard planned to lose them on was in that cane field.

Richard accelerated, pushing the rev-limit. The white sports car was on our tail again, close enough for me to see the eager expression on the driver’s face. I could have sworn I saw him smile. It was the villainous smile of bloodlust. It was at that point that I began to pray, although I’m not in any way pious, for Richard to be right. We couldn’t let these people catch us.

A billow of dirt behind us was my first indication that we had reached the end of the street and were now cutting through the cane field. I hadn’t taken my eyes off the man who was intent on killing us, though he had only spared me a single glance and that malevolent smile –his attentions were focused on his pursuit, and maintaining control over his vehicle.

My prayers were fruitful, Richard was right. The moment the white sports car hit the dirt it began to slide around uncontrollably, slinging dirt in every direction. In trying to restrain his wild vehicle, the driver was forced to slow considerably, until he was lost to us inside a cloud of dust.