before they realised it was all just a big distraction from the main event. I was the main event and I didn’t want to be.
I ran to the car. Thank God the keys were in it. What was I to do? I yelled through the wall: ‘Stand back, Homer, I’m going to ram it.’ He shouted something but I couldn’t hear. I was already racing back to the car. I started it, swung it around, reversed a bit, then drove hard at the wall. It felt weird. I was only in first gear but I was going, I don’t know, between twenty and thirty maybe. The building gave a kind of lurch. The car bounced off the wall, and came to rest parallel to the hut.
I’d managed to open a split right down the wall. It didn’t look nearly enough for a person to get through. I jumped out and ran to it. I could see Homer’s dark skin through the gap. From the other side of the building the shooting started. If I’d been scared before I was petrified now. It reminded me too strongly of the shots I’d heard not long ago, the shots that killed my parents. I got the shakes. I glanced into the back of the Suzuki. Just the usual junk you’d find in any four wheel drive. A length of chain. Could I do something with that? My hands seemed like they wouldn’t pick up anything. I had two goes before I could grab it. I dragged it out. I dropped the big link at one end, over the towbar, and carried the rest of the chain to the split. I was trying to calm myself. I know that the more you rush the more mistakes you make, but sometimes it’s just too hard to stay steady. I yelled to Homer, ‘Can you put this over something?’ and shoved the other end of the chain at him.
He yelled back, ‘Yeah, the tap.’
‘The tap?’ I thought. ‘God, I don’t know whether that’ll be strong enough to hold it.’
But there was no time for a debate. However there had to be time to wait till he did it. It would be hopeless if I took off in the car and he hadn’t secured the chain.
That was the longest wait of my life. It had to be at least fifteen seconds. Maybe even twenty. Then I heard Homer: ‘Go! Go!’
I sprinted to the driver’s seat, threw myself in, turned the wheel hard, and tried to find the restraint to go forward slowly, not to take off at fifty k’s an hour. I compromised. Probably got up to twenty pretty quickly. In my mirror I could see the split widening, opening, but at the same time there was a sudden mangling and twisting of the pipe going up the outside wall and into the demountable. It twisted and writhed like a snake on an electric fence. Then a jet of water shot up. I assume it was gravity fed, but it must have come from a high position to get pressure like that. It was stronger than we got at home. It was stronger than the fountain at the Stratton Mall. Stronger than a squeezed pimple.
I stopped as the roof of the building started to fold inwards and upwards at the same time. Lucky these demountables were made from recycled aluminium drink cans. I jumped out of the driver’s seat then jumped straight back in when I saw a man staggering through the crack. I was hoping they’d only need me for driving. I glimpsed Homer’s face in the darkness behind him. I remembered the chain, and got out again. I raced around to the rear and yanked it off the towbar. Now Homer was scraping out through the wall too and suddenly both of them were hurrying towards the little four wheel drive. The other guy looked pretty weak and skinny though, and Homer had to help him. The Suzuki was a two door with just a front seat. Luckily it was a bench seat.
It was so hard to hold the car there as Nick Greene started getting in. All my instincts screamed at me: ‘Hit it! Take off! Get out of here.’ I felt the Suzuki creeping forward as though it had a mind of its own, even if my foot was on the accelerator. Nick was in now and crowding close to me. He smelt terrible. Absolutely terrible. Overpoweringly foully awful. I tried not to show how disgusted I felt. Homer was half in the car and that was enough for me. I took off.
‘Jesus,’ I heard Homer yell, but I didn’t care. He could look after himself. He was the one who’d been stupid enough to get caught in the first place.
I swung the little car round in a turn so tight that two wheels left the ground. I felt us rocking wildly. Nick clutched my arm, which didn’t help. We landed on the ground again and finished the tight skidding turn. Now I was heading more or less in the direction I wanted to go. The car was still rocking from the violence of the turn but I hit the accelerator anyway. Out of the corner of my eye I realised Homer was still not completely inside. Maybe I had been a bit hard on him. Then I stopped thinking about him as I heard a bang from the back and felt the little car go up and down. I glanced in the mirror and nearly let go of the wheel in horror. A soldier had just jumped on the tray. I’ll never forget that face in the mirror. I’ve never seen anything so ugly and frightening. I don’t know where he’d come from. I thought they were all around the other side, dealing with the rolling drums and the fires we’d started. This guy had a rifle and he was already raising it. He had amazing balance. His feet were well apart, but the way we were rocking wasn’t helping him.
We were sitting targets, literally. For the soldier, it’d be easier than shooting those little tin ducks at the Show.
I did the obvious thing and slammed on the brakes. What happened next was maybe the most amazing thing I’d seen since the war started. He fell forward, crash-landing on the tray, and shot himself. I didn’t realise for a few moments. I heard the rifle go off, and I shrunk down in the seat as though that would somehow protect me. Then I heard a wild, horrible scream from the back. I realised it was him. I pressed down hard on the accelerator. The Suzuki took off like a rabbit from a Rottweiler and aimed at the faint track I could see ahead. It wasn’t really a track, but I could just follow the wheel marks from where the Suzuki had driven in.
At the same time I wanted to see whatever was happening behind us, but it was difficult to do that and drive. In the wing mirror I did see the lines of fire burning quite strongly down one side of the gully. I couldn’t see the other side. I just had to hope Lee and Gavin had gotten out of there, but men were running up and down the hill with buckets of water. In the rear vision mirror I got a glimpse of at least three soldiers coming after us. It seemed like it had taken them that long to realise anything was happening on this side of the building. One of them had just fired — he was still on one knee and I saw him take his eye away to have a look at the result. I even saw the little puff of smoke drifting upwards. I hadn’t been aware of any shots. I also had a glimpse of the arm of the man on the back tray of the Suzuki. He was waving to his mates, a weak little salute. It struck me that in a way he was now on our side. They’d be reluctant to shoot if they thought they’d hit him. He was our accidental human shield.
It was time for some creative driving. There was so little room to zigzag but I had no choice. I ran the four wheel drive up the side of the gully to the left then swung it back to the right. There was a scream from the back. I hoped he wasn’t the kind of person who got seasick. I swerved around a huge log and went up the left-hand side again, but not as far. Everything depended on my being unpredictable. Nick was falling against me and I had to shove him off. The screaming from the back was louder than the car, louder than my heartbeat even. I actually saw a branch shot from a tree to my left, about a metre away. It wasn’t a big branch, but it was just above the height of the vehicle, and it was unnerving to see the explosion of splinters and dust as it started to fall. I swung the wheel hard to the right and down the hill we went again, almost straight down. Up the other side and we hit a rock that I hadn’t seen. We hit it so hard it jarred the steering wheel out of my hands.
I grabbed the wheel again and spun it round. I could see the end of the gully now. There was a clear track for fifty metres and I zigzagged along that. I was hoping for an intersection with the track Lee and I had followed on our motorbikes earlier. Trouble was, it had been a dying track. It had been fading quite some way back. But I saw a gap in the trees that could have led to it, so I raced straight for it, for the dark patch. We went flat out, maybe fifty, sixty k’s an hour, and then yes, onto a corrugated old logging road, and we were in the bush.
I felt good.
The good feelings lasted all of twenty seconds, till the road ran out again. We were suddenly facing a wall of new growth timber.
I hit the brakes. I said to Nick, ‘Can you walk for a bit?’
‘I think so,’ he said. He had a nice voice. I left him to think about that while I jumped out. It was good to get away from the smell.
I took a look at the guy in the tray. One look was enough. He was in serious trouble. Blood was smeared everywhere. It was bright red and it was literally smeared, like someone had taken a rough old paintbrush and pushed it around on the aluminium tray. His face was completely drained of colour. His eyes were closed. I thought he was dying, or already dead. I took his rifle and chucked it across to Homer.
‘Maybe we should try to stay with the vehicle,’ he said, ripping an ammunition pouch from the man’s belt.
I knew what he meant. If we could drive further we would have a better chance.
‘There’s a gap,’ he said, nodding at the trees up higher. ‘Might be a track.’
I hesitated. ‘All right,’ I said. Making a face I dropped the back of the tray and pulled the bloke out by his feet
