Matt Eaton - Blank

“You must have seen some pretty horrible things in the past few weeks,” she offered.

“Yeah. Except death doesn’t worry me. At least, not when I’m awake. I know that sounds callous, but when you’re dead, you’re dead. I mean, I can mourn for buddies I’ve lost, but it’s the people left behind who are doing the suffering. I dunno where you go when you die, but you’re not here anymore and that can’t be all bad, right?”

“The faces you see in your dreams – do you know them?”

“No, that’s the thing – never seen them before. My parents died – you’d think I’d dream about them, right?”

“Seamus told me,” she said, placing her hand gently upon his.

“But I’m dreaming about strangers.”

She crawled onto the bed next to him, fluffed up a feather down pillow and propped it behind her head. “You’ve done it now. I won’t be able to get back to sleep.”

She stared at him with eyes that said she wanted to be kissed and he felt an almost irresistible urge to take her up on it. He touched his finger to her lips, which parted tantalisingly. He wanted her so much it was painful, but he had also learned the hard way his actions could have negative consequences.

She cuddled up to him. “You know, not all actions need to have consequences.”

He backed away from her. “What did you just say?”

She sighed. “Sorry, I keep forgetting other people can’t do that.”

“Are you actually telling me you can read my mind?”

“It’s not so difficult sometimes. Your eyes are an open book. It’s one of the things I like about you. You show your vulnerabilities. Not many men do that.”

“Nice work there avoiding the question.”

“I’ve spent way too much time with dodgy politicians.”

“Doing what?”

“I was a freelance shooter for TV news on the Coast. Police and politicians – none of them ever give you a straight answer. Now they know how to hide their vulnerabilities.”

“We’ve seen more of each other’s vulnerabilities in the past 18 hours than some married couples see in a decade. Oh that really didn’t come out right.”

She laughed. “You always sleep with the light on?”

She was changing the subject again.

“You’re not getting out of it that easily,” he told her. “When I landed on your balcony it was like you were expecting me.”

“Would it freak you out if I said I was?”

He stared deep into her eyes and finally shook his head. She squeezed his hand. He knew he could tell her anything and it would be OK. “A couple of weeks ago I started seeing a man…” he began.

“Oh!?” she cried in surprise.

“No, shut up. I mean he started appearing to me in the flood zone. A spirit man.”

“An Aboriginal spirit man?”

He nodded. “On rooftops, on deserted hillsides, places where there shouldn’t be a living soul for miles. He’s there but he can’t be there, if you know what I mean.”

“Go on,” she urged.

“The first time I spotted this guy, he was maybe half a click away. I’m in the helicopter. Eddie doesn’t see a damn thing. I told him to double back, even though I’m already convincing myself I was mistaken. And there he is, bold as brass, standing on the roof of a deserted high-rise. He’s black as the desert night, painted up like he’s on the way to a Corroboree. He’s waving a spear at me. I start gesturing wildly but Eddie doesn’t see him. He can’t see him.”

“Really? That’s weird.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he agreed. “This is it, I’m thinking. I’ve finally flipped out. But Eddie’s cool as a cucumber. Tells me he’ll land and I can get out and take a look. And I try to pretend it’s all a bit of a joke and no big deal, even though inside my head I’m quietly going berserk. So out I hop, and take a look around. Sure enough, he’s vanished. But I see an open door and a set of stairs. In I go. And damned if I don’t find two people wandering around in a daze, dehydrated but otherwise perfectly well. This was in a building that had been declared vacant. I bring them up and put them in the chopper. Eddie doesn’t say a word – and I mean not a word – about the whole thing.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“And by the next day, I’m feeling like it was all a dream. But I kept on seeing him. And each time, I’d have Eddie drop me in that spot and I’d find survivors. I saw him on your balcony…”

“Interesting,” she said.

“Why, did you see him too?”

“What? No, no I didn’t see him. But I think it explains something. Why you took so long to get to me.”

“I’m not with you,” he admitted.

“Remember I asked you what had taken you so long?”

He nodded.

“OK, now this is where my story gets weird, so strap in. I had been psychically calling you to me for a week before you arrived. I think I’ve always been a bit psychic, but since all this happened I’ve felt it was much more powerful. From the first moment I heard your chopper overhead, I’ve been willing you to come and get me. I even saw you in my head. I knew what you looked like. You were my black spirit man.”

She paused, as if waiting for Luckman to start slowly backing away from the crazy woman. He just smiled at her benignly.

“Well if you’re a mind reader, all the rest of it simply comes with the territory I’d have thought.”

Mel was relieved by his response. “I s’pose so. Hey maybe those other folks you found were able to use the same sort of psychic connection to call you in.”

“How would they do that?”

“I dunno. Maybe the sun’s EM pulse has somehow enhanced everyone’s psychic abilities. They might have called to you without even realising they were doing it. And that would explain why you didn’t come to me straight away – I was at the back of the queue.”

“How would something like that happen?” he wondered, shaking his head.

She shrugged and smiled at him sheepishly. “It’s one way of explaining why an ancient blackfella’s been waving you down. With so many people in the world dying all at once, I suppose it’s sort of like the psychic phone lines are now open, if you get my meaning.”

“But how would they all manage to conjure up the same bloke?”

She thought for a moment. “He’s in your head. You said as much yourself – Eddie doesn’t see him.”

“Yeah, right,” he said dejectedly.

“No, I don’t mean you’re imagining it. Clearly he’s real. It’s just a question of whether your mind has created him as a metaphor, or whether he’s a real honest to God spirit man. But in a sense it doesn’t matter, because the results speak for themselves.”

She leant over and kissed him slowly and tenderly. “You saved all of us.”

He chuckled. “I think you might have been the one saving me out there.”

He could see torment raging behind those blue eyes of hers. He might have felt something like love for her at that moment and he definitely wanted her pain to end. “Did you see inside Pimford’s head? Did you get any warning at all?”

She looked away. “No. He was able to keep his nastiness to himself until it was too late. I don’t know why.”

“Then there’s nothing you could have done.” He kissed her on the temple and touched her on the lips to tell her she need say no more.

“I’ve been trying to use this skill of mine to work out whether my own family survived all this. But it’s just…”

She almost said blank.

“Doesn’t mean they’re dead,” he told her.

“Come on, you and I both know the odds are against them surviving. Part of me hopes they did die. I think it beats the likely alternative.”