John Marsden - Circle of fight

‘How does she do it?’ I asked, which wasn’t much more intelligent than my previous comment.

‘She just wakes up in the morning and there she is,’ Homer said.

This was an old joke of ours that we’d been laughing about for ten years. It was from one of Dad’s books, and it went something like this: A lady asked the General ‘How do you find yourself these cold winter mornings?’

The General replied, ‘I just wake up in the mornings, throw back the sheets, and there I am.’

I know it’s not really all that funny, but for some reason Homer and I found it hilarious and we often dragged it into a conversation.

‘How did you find Gavin and me?’ I asked next, then, to pre-empt Homer, added, ‘I know, I know, you just threw back the sheets and there we were.’

‘Toddy and Bronte are old mates,’ Homer said.

Toddy turned for a moment and flashed a grin over his left shoulder. ‘My father always tells me I should marry Bronte,’ he said.

‘Thanks for finding us,’ I said to Toddy, realising that he must have been a key player in this whole thing.

He gave a little shrug. ‘I watch that house, and I watch and I watch, after you go in, and you never come out!’

I shook my head. Toddy had been so adamant that he wouldn’t have the slightest thing to do with me once I left him at the drop-off point, so many days ago.

We sped on through the city. I didn’t plague them with questions, because I knew that there were other things to worry about, and I really wanted Toddy to concentrate on his driving. Like, I really really wanted Toddy to concentrate on his driving.

On we went. Through the city, through the night. Homer handed me a plastic container. I opened it and found half-a-dozen California rolls. I resisted the temptation to say, ‘Oh no, not more rice’, thinking about the starving prisoners at the end of World War II who within forty-eight hours of getting their freedom were complaining that there was no tomato sauce or that they didn’t like cucumber in their salad sandwiches. Instead I thought how amazing it was that they had remembered a detail like a picnic box in the middle of all the other preparing that they must have done.

Gavin grabbed one greedily. To him, any food was good food, and I have to say I closed my mouth gratefully on one myself. I recognised the slight glugginess and asked Lee, ‘Did you make these?’ Lee was on a quest, in search of the perfect sushi. He wasn’t quite there yet, but I was always happy to sample his latest attempt. I kept telling him to use an electric rice cooker, but he was such a purist that he wouldn’t touch them, even though his parents had used them in the restaurant.

He just nodded in reply.

‘Thanks,’ I said gratefully.

‘Hey, you going to hog all those yourself?’ Homer asked.

‘How long is it since your last good meal?’ I asked him.

‘What are you saying? You been on a diet?’

‘Yeah. Figured it was time I shed a few kilos. Here, you wanna take food out of the mouths of starving babies? I hope you choke on it.’ I handed him a roll. He immediately started eating it, without the slightest sign of guilt.

The energy flowed back into my body as I progressed through the California roll. God, food is good. I should say grace more often. Food is one of God’s better inventions. But remind me to speak to Him about blowflies, mosquitoes and leeches. Not to mention cockroaches.

I looked out the window of the car. I couldn’t believe how secure I felt, when you consider that we were travelling at high speed through a hostile city, and could have been attacked at any moment. But although I hadn’t been taking a lot of notice, I had the feeling that Toddy had taken us on a pretty circuitous route. Right now we seemed to be in a boring street in a boring suburb, going over judder bars every fifty metres or so. I had the feeling that I was looking at my future. At least Toddy slowed down for the judder bars. He seemed like a more responsible, more mature Toddy, now that he was in a group. I know a lot of boys like that. They don’t have confidence when they’re on their own, but they draw it from the group.

We hit a main road about twenty minutes later. By then we were beyond the city limits, and the whiff of freedom was becoming a strong stench. Roll on freedom, I say. Better than food. But my sense of excitement was a bit premature. I don’t know if the roadblock was for the benefit of us or somebody else, or whether it was just a permanent fixture, but I doubt if it was permanent, because it gave Toddy a hell of a fright, and his local knowledge seemed pretty good.

Maybe they were checking people for. 05.

Anyway, suddenly there it was, lighting up the night sky like one of those huge service stations and truck stops combined. That’s what I thought it was at first. But flashing blue and white lights are a bit of a giveaway, in most countries probably. I gripped the back of the seat in front of me and screeched, ‘Toddy!’

He was already slowing. I looked around anxiously, trying to figure out the best escape route, or, if there wasn’t one, the best plan of attack. As I did, Toddy continued to slow. I couldn’t work out why. Then two cars flashed up, one on either side of us. I tensed, thinking it was part of an attack. But one of the passengers was Bronte, and she was easing the barrel of a very large gun out of the window. She didn’t see me. I was amazed to see her in a role that was so different to making scones or sitting under the tree at school.

The two cars converged in front of us. Toddy accelerated again to keep up with them. The lights through our back window made me look around, to see another car behind us. Homer had seen it too, but I assumed from his calmness that this fourth car must be on our side as well. It was nice to be looked after for a change, both nice and unusual. These people seemed so professional. It was embarrassing to think of how clumsily we had operated during the war, compared to this. But we had done OK. Maybe there was still a place for the amateurs.

We were in a two, one, one formation. But suddenly, as though the four cars were dancers and they had a really good choreographer, the two leaders split, one to the left and one to the right; Toddy slowed again, faded left, and the vehicle behind came powering through, like an elephant at the Olympics. I didn’t know what it was but it was military, it was big, it was strong, and it probably should have been drug tested. We other three cars all fell into formation behind it, and I watched with awe as the military-type vehicle smashed everything.

Pieces of the roadblock, including pieces of two cars that were meant to be part of the roadblock, were still flying through the air as we raced through the gap. At high speed we crunched and bumped and lurched and thumped over the debris. I grabbed the car with one hand and Gavin with the other. On my left I saw two guys running away, and two others aiming and firing. I didn’t have time to look out the right-hand side.

Bullets hammered into our car. Some noises are ambiguous. A rifle shot in the distance can sound like a guy chopping wood. Bullets hammering into a car make a sound that can’t be forgotten. The car becomes a little echo chamber, and you feel as though a giant with a sledgehammer is bashing it. You can’t believe that a tiny bullet can do such a thing. The car filled with screams, some of which I have to admit were mine. But then I saw one of the guys who was firing get felled like a giant had just hammered him. I didn’t see what happened next, as already we were fleeing the roadblock at a speed that should have seen Toddy lose his licence for decades into the future.

‘I can’t believe you’re the Scarlet Pimple,’ I said.