The Knife of Never Letting Go

swamp.”

“I know,” Ben says. “I was hoping—”

“Me, too,” Cillian says.

“Whoa, whoa,” I say, “I ain’t going back to the swamp. There’s Spackle there!”

“Keep yer thoughts quiet,” Cillian says. “That’s more important than you know.”

“Well, since I don’t know nothing, that ain’t hard,” I say. “I ain’t going nowhere till someone tells me what’s going on!”

“Todd—” Ben starts.

“They’ll be coming back, Todd,” Cillian says. “Davy Prentiss will come back and he won’t be alone and we won’t be able to protect you from all of them at once.”

“But—”

“No arguing!” Cillian says.

“Come on, Todd,” Ben says. “Manchee’s gonna have to go with you.”

“Oh, man, this just gets better,” I say.

“Todd,” Cillian says and I look at him and he’s changed a little. There’s something new in his Noise, a sadness, a sadness like grief. “Todd,” he says again, then suddenly he grabs me and hugs me to him as hard as he can. It’s too rough and I bash my cut lip on his collar and say “Ow!” and push him away.

“You may hate us for this, Todd,” he says, “but try to believe it’s only cuz we love you, all right?”

“No,” I say, “it’s not all right. It’s not all right at all.”

But Cillian’s not listening, as usual. He stands up and says to Ben, “Go, run, I’ll hold ’em off as long as possible.”

“I’ll come back a different way,” Ben says, “see if I can throw ’em off the trail.”

They clasp hands for a long minute, then Ben looks at me, says “Come on” and as he’s dragging me outta the room to get to the back door, I see Cillian pick up the rifle again and he glances up at me and catches my eye and there’s a look to him, a look written all over him and his Noise that this is a bigger goodbye than it even seems, that this is it, the last time he ever expects to see me and I open my mouth to say something but then the door closes on him and he’s gone.

5. THE THINGS YOO KNOW

“I’ll get you to the river,” Ben says as we hurry across our fields for the second time this morning. “You can follow it down to where it meets the swamp.”

“There ain’t no path that way, Ben,” I say, “and there’s crocs everywhere. You trying to get me killed?”

He looks back at me, his eyes all level, but he keeps on hurrying. “There’s no other way, Todd.”

“Crocs! Swamp! Quiet! Poo!” Manchee barks.

I’ve stopped even asking what’s going on since nobody’s seeing fit to tell me nothing so we just keep on moving past the sheep, still not in their paddocks and now maybe never getting there. “Sheep!” they say, watching us pass. On we go, past the main barn, down one of the big irrigashun tracks, turning right on a smaller one, heading towards where the wilderness starts, which pretty much means the beginning of the rest of this whole empty planet.

Ben don’t start talking again till we get to the treeline. “There’s food in yer rucksack to last you for a bit but you should make it stretch as far as you can, eating what fruit you find and anything you can hunt.” “How long do I gotta make it last?” I ask. “How long till I can come back?”

Ben stops. We’re just inside the trees. The river’s thirty metres away but you can hear it cuz this is where it starts rushing downhill to get to the swamp.

Suddenly it feels like just about the loneliest place in the whole wide world.

“You ain’t coming back, Todd,” Ben says, quietly. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” I say and my voice comes out all mewing like a kitten but I can’t help it. “What’d I do, Ben?”

Ben comes up to me. “You didn’t do anything, Todd. You didn’t do anything at all.” He hugs me real hard and I can feel my chest start to press again and I’m so confused and frightened and angry. Nothing was different in the world this morning when I got outta bed and now here I am being sent away and Ben and Cillian acting like I’m dying and it ain’t fair and I don’t know why it ain’t fair but it just ain’t fair.

“I know it ain’t fair,” Ben says, pulling himself away and looking me hard in the face. “But there is an explanashun.” He turns me round and opens my rucksack and I can feel him taking something out.

The book.

I look at him and look away. “You know I don’t read too good, Ben,” I say, embarrassed and stupid.

He crouches down a bit so we’re truly face to face. His Noise ain’t making me comfortable at all.

“I know,” he says, gentle-like. “I always meant to try and spend more time—” He stops. He holds out the book again. “It’s yer ma’s,” he says. “It’s her journal, starting from the day you were born, Todd.” He looks down at it. “Till the day she died.” My Noise opens wide.

My ma. My ma’s own book.

Ben runs his hand over the cover. “We promised her we’d keep you safe,” he says. “We promised her and then we had to put it outta our minds so there was nothing in our Noise, nothing that would let anyone know what we were gonna do.” “Including me,” I say.

“It had to be including you. If just a little bit got into yer Noise and then into the town…”

He don’t finish.

“Like the silence I found in the swamp today,” I say. “Like that getting into town and causing all this havoc.”

“No, that was a surprise.” He looks up at the sky, like he’s telling it just how completely a surprise it all was. “No one woulda guessed that happening.”

“It’s dangerous, Ben. I could feel it.”

But all he does is hold out the book again.

I start shaking my head. “Ben—”

“I know, Todd,” he says, “but try yer best.”

“No, Ben—”

He catches my eyes again. He holds ’em with his own. “Do you trust me, Todd Hewitt?”

I scratch my side. I don’t know how to answer. “Course I do,” I say, “or at least I did before you started packing bags I didn’t know about for me.”

He looks at me harder, his Noise focused like a sun ray. “Do you trust me?” he asks again.

I look at him and yeah, I do, even now. “I trust you, Ben.”

“Then trust me when I say that the things you know right now, Todd, those things ain’t true.”

“Which things?” I ask, my voice rising a little. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Cuz knowledge is dangerous,” he says, as serious as I’ve ever seen him and when I look into his Noise to see what he’s hiding, it roars up and slaps me back. “If I told you now, it would buzz in you louder than a hive at honey-gathering time and Mayor Prentiss would find you fast as he could spit. And you have to get away from here. You have to, as far away as you can.” “But where?” I say. “There ain’t nowhere else!”

Ben takes a deep breath. “There is,” he says. “There’s somewhere else.”

I don’t say nothing to that.

“Folded in the front of the book,” Ben says, “there’s a map. I made it myself but don’t look at it, not till yer well outta town, okay? Just go to the swamp. You’ll know what to do from there.” But I can tell from his Noise that he’s not at all sure I’ll know what to do from there. “Or what I’m gonna find there, do you?”