learnt from my encounter with Starvos, but I don’t flinch or startle, instead I turn and throw a punch into the dark and my knuckles connect with a jaw. Its owner lets out an ‘ooof’ sort of noise and in the second when I’m deciding which direction to sprint, he rushes at me and tackles me onto the ice. I try to shove him off, I take another swing but I can’t see what I’m aiming at, we tumble around and I manage to grab hold of his ear. I yank his head back and try to get him off me. It works. I scramble to my feet but he grabs me by the ankle and pulls me down, my head hits the ice via a car bonnet. And then he’s on my back.
‘Put your hands behind yer head!’ he yells. I can’t shift him as he has me pinned. I do as he tells me. He brings my hands down behind my back and cuffs my wrists with plastic tape – the same stuff they use to anchor toys in their packaging. He yanks me to my feet and flicks a torchlight on. I turn to look at him and recognise him as the same guy from before.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask. ‘You can’t arrest me, man.’
‘I told yer not to come back here. I tried to fucking tell yer.’ He starts to march me back to the barrier. We reach the embankment next to the road and I stop moving my feet, I let myself drop and he has to try to keep me upright. He’s shorter than me and can’t quite manage it.
‘Walk!’
‘No, I think I’ll just rest for a bit.’
‘Walk!’
‘What’s your name?’ I ask, like we’re sharing a bus seat or something.
‘Walk!’
‘I’m Fin. Oh, you already know that, hey? I have a younger brother, he’s twelve. Haven’t seen my parents for almost four months, so I’m pretty sure they’re dead.’
‘Shut up. Get on yer feet.’
‘I’m supposed to be halfway through year twelve. How old are you? How long you been in the army?’
‘Shut up.’ He tries to get me to stand up but I throw myself to the ground and roll onto my back. In one swift movement he drops the torch into the snow, takes the rifle from his shoulder and points it in my face. Twice in two days, that’s really something.
‘I will shoot yer.’ It’s like he’s trying to convince himself as well.
‘Where’s your family?’ I ask, super polite.
Morning light creeps into the sky and I can see his breath heaving in and out. He cocks his head to the side.
‘Out west. Get up.’
‘Just sit down for a minute, mate. Take a load off. I’m not goin’ anywhere.’ I manage to work my way into a sitting position. ‘They have a farm?’
‘I tried to tell yer, man. I fuckin’ tried. I’m not responsible for this, for what will happen to yer. I tried. Get up.’
‘Seriously, dude, what’s going on here?’
‘WE NEED TO KEEP EVERYONE WHERE THEY BELONG SO WE CAN ACCOUNT FOR THEM!’
‘This is about numbers? Account keeping? You’re kidding yourself, you know that, right? Does it work the other way? You got people from over there trying to get over here?’
‘Get up.’
The muzzle of the rifle has wandered from my head. He’s still looking at me though.
‘Hungry? I’ve got a Mars Bar in my back pocket.’ I can reach it with my hands behind my back, I kind of fling it onto the snow next to me.
‘You got a mean tackle, man. Rugby?’
‘League,’ he mutters.
‘Yeah, none of that private school bullshit. Seriously, eat it. Sit down.’
He drops his arse to the snow, his jaw is rigid, defiant, but he picks up the Mars Bar.
‘Yer don’t know nothin’,’ he says. ‘These are good people, these blokes. I follow their orders: I eat when they tell me, I shit when they tell me. Yer don’t do that for nothin’. There are reasons for this.’
‘Yeah? What are they?’
‘We can only do so much at a time. We gotta keep the area secure before they roll out phase two.’
‘Which is where picking people off at the barrier comes in?’ I speak softly, not wanting to aggravate him. I have to convince him we’re on the same side in more ways than one. He doesn’t reply.
‘They feeding you much?’
‘We have rations. Why do yer think I’m still fucking doin’ this?’
He shoves the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth and chews.
‘You know, they’ve abandoned everyone on this side of the barricade. No more rations, we’ve been left to starve.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘Dude, why do you think people are willing to get shot trying to get to the other side? That’s why we left; it’s the only chance we’ve got.’
He gives me a sideways glance, still chewing.
‘Have you heard from your family recently?’
‘Yer don’t know shit about my family.’
‘No, I don’t. But, all I mean is, if they’re out west they’re going to be in the exact same position.’
He doesn’t respond to that, just sits, arms slung over his knees, looking out into the distance.
‘Yer don’t need to risk getting shot at to get through,’ he says after a bit. ‘All you need is some booze. Or smokes.’ Then he takes a switchblade from his pocket, grabs my wrists and slices through the plastic tie. He wipes his sleeve across his mouth and stands up. I can see his eyes now. He looks maybe twenty at the most.
‘Piss off outta here,’ he says and begins to walk away.
‘Wait! I left something around here. You haven’t found… something, have you?’
He doesn’t say anything, but he stops.
‘C’mon man, you know what it’s like out here. We don’t have a chance without it.’
He takes the handgun from under his jacket and chucks it at my feet. He stands watching, rifle in his hands, as I pick up the handgun and get to my feet. When I walk away I can feel his eyes on my back and I know his finger is on the trigger.
They are awake when I get back to the car. I catch Lucy’s eye, she has a pale, hollowed-out look to her, she tries to smile when she sees me. Max is eating from a packet of red frogs. I knock on the window and Lucy unlocks my door. I slide into the driver’s seat. Behind me, Noll is reading a book propped against his knees.
‘Where’d you go?’ he asks
‘I left something behind.’
‘What?’ asks Max.
‘Nothing, it doesn’t matter, I found it. We should get moving.’
‘What was it?’ Noll asks.
I swallow. If I tell him about the gun now I’m pretty sure he’s going to be: a) pissed that I risked going back to get it myself; b) pissed that I’ve kept the fact that we have a gun from him all this time; and c) pissed that we have a gun – not just any gun, but the gun belonging to the guy we robbed.
‘
He holds my gaze in the rear-view mirror.
‘What you reading?’ I ask.
‘Psalms.’
‘Sarms?’
‘They’re like poems, like prayers.’
‘You read the bible?’ Max asks.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s weird.’
‘Tell me about it,’ says Noll.
‘Anyone feel like breakfast?’ asks Lucy.
