John Marsden - While I live

They had their rifles too. I was even less happy about that.

The way they kept looking at the hut where we thought Homer was held made me certain this activity was aimed at him: him, Nick Greene, or both. Then the boss started in on a speech, pointing at the yellow hut from time to time. The vibe was not good. Things were getting scary. I had a sour taste in my mouth, a sour smell in my nostrils.

At this point I decided we’d better go into action quick, even though I felt far from ready. I hoped the man in charge was making a long speech. I waved a quick goodbye to Gavin and started working my way around towards the back of Homer’s building. ‘This could get ugly,’ I thought as I went. ‘We’re relying too much on luck here.’

A couple of times I had no cover at all and had to dash across open ground: fifteen, twenty metres. In a way the group of soldiers on the other side, even if they’d forced me to move too early, were doing me a favour. It was like the parade ground had soaked up seven people. It had become the centre of gravity for this little area — all the energy was focused on it — and that somehow gave me more freedom to operate around the boundaries of the campsite.

I didn’t know how long this mob had been camped there but it was quite a while, because they’d cleaned out all the sticks and bark for a long distance around. That would have been for their cooking fires. I knew what it was like. The first week it’s so easy — you just grab kindling with one hand and firewood with the other and you hardly have to move from where you’re sitting. The second week you find yourself walking fifty metres to get it. A week or two later you’re scouring the bush at such a distance that by the time you get back the fire’s gone out.

So yes, these guys had been here months I’d say. That was great for us because it meant we could sneak around more easily, making very little noise. And at the back of the yellow demountable the ground was so bare — well, except for a few rocks — that it was like walking on the asphalt playground at school.

All the same, I was pretty happy to arrive at the twisted old gum tree behind the hut, which Lee and I had agreed was my target. I wished I could have leaned against it for a moment to get my breath back, slow my breathing, and thank my lucky stars. No hope of that though. I picked up a rock, ready to lob it through the one little window in the rear wall of the demountable. I signalled to Gavin, then to Lee, with a quick wave. The idea was that they would be watching for the signal. I just hoped with ginormously great fervour that they were doing exactly that.

Everything seemed to stop for the next minute. My heart included. I could hear the voice of the commanding officer guy still, but I didn’t see anyone. The breeze stopped, the leaves on the trees were still, the sun hung frozen in the cold sky. Then it began. I saw Gavin’s side first. A flash of fire through the bushes, then a second flash. I don’t know how he got them so close together. I grabbed a quick look at Lee’s side. Yes, same thing there.

I couldn’t stand around waiting for the full effect. I had to move, and now. I moved.

There was a whoosh from up on Gavin’s hill and the first yell from the other side of the building. I chucked the rock straight through the window. It made some noise but not enough to be heard over the noise from the petrol drums. I grabbed the windowsill, hauled myself up, feeling the broken glass splinter my hands, and called, ‘Homer, Homer, quick.’

It was a huge relief to hear his voice. ‘No good, Ellie, Nick’s too weak to get out the window.’

Oh shit. I’d never thought of that. Oh shit. Now what? I couldn’t believe it. I looked around, desperate. Nothing. But at the front of the building was that funny little Suzuki-type vehicle. Well, if I couldn’t use that in some way, we were sunk. We were dead. Half unconsciously I heard the roar of flames from the hillsides and even the ‘bong, bong’ noise of one of the drums as it bounced down to the bottom of the slope. I couldn’t have much time 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.