Claire Zorn - The Sky So Heavy

Lucy sits on the edge of the couch, at my feet. I am mentally preparing to get up and go to Max but every time I lift my head from the pillow I feel like I’m going to vomit. I try to piece together what has happened.

‘How did you know I was in there?’

‘I saw the flashlight from my bedroom window. I didn’t know it was you for sure, but I recognised your shape, when you were standing at the door breaking in. Then I saw Starvos come down and hit your brother. That’s when I grabbed my uncle. He wanted me to stay outside but…’ She shrugs. ‘The cricket bat was behind the counter.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. But know that I’m not going to come save your skinny arse every time you try and rob a crazy guy.’

‘Okay. I’ll stop relying on your cricket skills so heavily.’

‘Appreciate it.’

‘You make a habit of confronting crazy guys with guns?’

‘I try not to. And I’m not sure whacking someone from behind counts as confrontation.’ She pauses. ‘And I don’t know if he’s necessarily a crazy guy. He was just trying to protect what was his.’

It’s what I already know and what I have avoided in my head ever since we came up with this plan. Trying to save yourself and your family isn’t crazy. People will try to hold on when their world starts to tilt, they will grab onto whatever is in reach. Doesn’t matter if it means throwing punches at your neighbour or pointing a gun at someone’s head.

Lucy sighs and tilts her head back, gazing at the ceiling. ‘But he was going to kill you. I’m certain of that much.’

After a while I tell her about Dad and Kara being missing and about Mick and Ellen.

‘I was worried about you, about whether you had enough food and that. I came here looking for you.’

She looks at me for a moment. ‘Did you?’

‘Yeah, of course.’

There is sadness in her smile. ‘I wondered if you would. I didn’t think the snow and the blackout would go on this long.’ She picks lint from the blanket and rolls it into a little ball. ‘Do you know where your mum is?’

I shake my head. ‘But I’m going to find her. She’ll have a better idea of what’s going on. That’s why I was at Arnold’s. We figured we’d band together, find more food and get out of here.’ I tell her about our theory of the government abandoning us and the Ketterleys and my encounter with the army truck.

‘My dad thinks the same about the government,’ Lucy says. ‘He didn’t say anything to us but I heard him talking to Mum.’

There is a knock at the front door. Lucy gets up and takes a look out the window. She goes to the door and I hear a male voice, too quiet to be Starvos come for vengeance. I hobble to the door just in case it is and I’m required to do something manly. Arnold is there in a big parka with a flashlight and a sceptical look on his face.

‘I wanted to check you were alive,’ he says.

‘I’m alive. Where is Max?’

‘My place.’

‘Is he okay?’

‘He’s okay, Fin.’

‘Did Starvos hit him? Where? In the head? Did he black out?’

‘Pistol-whipped I believe is the term—’

‘Bastard!’ The guilt I feel about taking Starvos’ food dissipates.

‘He’s okay, Fin,’ he says. ‘I patched him up. From appearances he got off lighter than you.’

‘Starvos was going to kill him,’ says Lucy.

‘Then Lucy stepped in with a cricket bat,’ I explain.

‘Really? Is he hurt? Mr Starvos, I mean.’

‘Noll, he was going to kill me, he hit Max – a friggin’ kid.’

‘I understand. I’m just asking.’

‘I knocked him out. He’s fine, he’s rosy,’ says Lucy.

‘Okay,’ Noll said doubtfully. ‘Well, I’m going to go back to Max. I don’t want to leave him on his own for too long.’

‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘It’s nothing.’

We can hear Lucy’s mum coming down the hall. She’s going to be pissed – in a really polite way – that we’re drawing attention to the house.

‘You should try and sleep,’ Noll says. ‘I’ve parked the car in the garage in case Mr Starvos comes looking for it. We’ll leave in the morning.’

My throbbing head feels slightly better on a pillow again. Lucy says goodnight and vanishes down the hallway, presumably to where she is sleeping. I am acutely aware that she is less than twenty metres away from me, under the same roof. And that she saved my life.

In the morning I wake early. I roll onto my side and feel every bruise. It still hurts to breathe. Mrs Tenningworth comes into the room to offer me half a can of spaghetti. She seems to be genuine in offering me food that should rightfully be for her family, but I knock it back. Politely. Food supply won’t be an issue for us for a little while.

‘Can I have a look at your face?’ She gently tilts my head back, the crook of her index finger under my chin. ‘What’s the plan?’ she asks in a casual sort of way, like she’s asking me about a camping trip.

Oh, you know, nick off with our stolen food in a dead woman’s car and see if we can find anyone else to rip off, the usual.

Instead I tell her about Mum and explain our plan to try to find her.

‘She will know what’s going on, what we have to do to… get through this.’ I almost say it, the S word: survive. Mrs Tenningworth drops her hand from my chin and pulls back a little, looking at my face like she’s assessing it for bits that might fall off.

‘Lucy told me about your mother, that she will be able to help. Fin, Lucy likes you…’

‘Oh, we’re just friends.’

‘She thinks you’re a decent person and I’m going to trust her on that.’

‘Um, thanks.’

‘I think you could convince her to go with you.’

I swallow.

‘It’s not safe here any more. A few nights ago some people invaded a house up the street from where we are staying. Took all the family’s food. We don’t have much left anyway. And I’m pretty sure that it’s going to become impossible to keep us all… alive. We don’t have enough fuel to make it into the city, but…’ There are tears brimming in her eyes as she clears her throat and sits up a little straighter. ‘This is an opportunity and I think I would regret it later if I didn’t… If I didn’t send her with you. Her sister would never agree, but Lucy… you could convince her, Fin. Try, won’t you?’

Mrs Tenningworth stands up, placing her hand briefly on my shoulder before she leaves the room.

Lucy wanders in while I am folding my blankets. Her hair is wound into a messy knot behind her left ear, fastened with a clip in the shape of a squirrel. As she takes the blankets from me I notice that she smells faintly of vanilla and coconut. I am wearing the same hoodie that I have been for the last two weeks and my left cheek is held together with tape.

‘Well?’ she asks. ‘Nightmares about large, hairy men and instant noodles?’

‘A few. You?’

‘No. Only cricket bats.’ She sits on the couch, brings her feet up and tucks them under her. She has the posture of a ballet dancer. ‘So…’

‘So… terrible weather.’

‘Don’t be such a downer.’

‘At least we never had to do that history assignment.’

‘I worked my arse off for that history assignment! Total waste of time.’

I wish Lucy hadn’t mentioned her arse. ‘I know,’ I reply weakly.

She sighs. ‘It’s not fair, Fin. We won’t get to do all the things we should.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like have awkward phone conversations, go to the movies, make out in cars, have fights.’

‘You think we would fight?’

‘I don’t know. Isn’t that what people do?’

‘I wouldn’t fight with you if you were willing to make out with me in a car.’