Skyquakers (11 page)

Under the Quaker-proof tent in the basement of Munroe’s
gallery, the settlers at Zebra Rock survived the night. They heard no storm
pass overhead and saw no pink and purple beams strike their makeshift home.
Nothing else made a sound along the Ord until sunrise the next day, when the
crow of alien birds woke them in harmony with the undisturbed wilderness of
northern Australia.

Red-eyed James checked the surroundings alone before
returning to declare that nothing had changed: the gallery was untouched and nothing
menacing could be seen in the sky. There were no footprints in the mud around
their establishment to indicate any Suits had visited in the night; there was
no smoke in the air to assert a nuclear bomb had gone off. The origin of the
eruption must have been extremely distant, and it appeared to signal neither
doom nor hope.

It was Tim, more aware of the finer details, who discovered
what had been lost overnight: the river. He called upon his brothers and
sisters and directed their attention to the Ord itself. As of yesterday, the
water level appeared to have dropped by half, according to Tim’s estimates.
Although the rainy season had passed, the settlers did not expect a draught to
hit them so quickly; something more dramatic must have occurred to block or
redirect the flow of water. It was a concerning sight. This river was the
life-blood of their settlement; any lower and the irrigation channels to their
crops would run dry.

Troubled, James volunteered to hike upriver towards Lake
Argyle to see if there was an obstruction of some kind, while Michael and
Andrew offered to go downriver to check out the state of the dam south of the
abandoned farming town of Ivanhoe.

‘No,
’
Elizabeth said.
‘
The
dam is far too close to them. We can’t go near the Quakers’ farms.’

‘So we just roll over and die while they take our water?’
James hissed.

‘We have huge rainwater tanks,’ she argued. ‘They can last
us.’

‘We may not see rain for another nine months!’

‘We need to make sure the dam
’
s okay,
’
Michael said,
‘
or we may be stuck in a
drought within a week. Really, Dr Lizzie, it’ll be fine. Andy and I can take
care of ourselves.’

The two parties left simultaneously the next morning, just
after breakfast. They took with them packs containing water, food, torches,
binoculars,
a
knife; there was no way to predict what
they might come across. Elizabeth let James and the boys go on the condition
that they
had
to
be
back by dark. There was to be no camping out overnight in a freezing desert,
riddled with
transmutated
wild animals. Even if the
issue was small and looked fixable, the three had to return to Zebra Rock, and
then they would then tackle the problem together, as a family. It was unnerving
for the settlers to be parted. Violet did not want Michael to go, but he kissed
her on the cheek and said he
’
d be back by dinner.

He wasn
’
t.

James returned at sunset and declared there was nothing
noticeable upstream which was blocking the river. The rest of the family then
waited in nervous silence for the two boys to come home, and with every hour
past sunset, tensions rose exponentially. Elizabeth panicked. She wanted to go
after them into the bush, but James declared it would be idiotic: if the boys
were caught, if they were dead, then she would be walking into the same mess.
She pushed James away and screamed at him for bringing up such horrible
scenarios, and they argued for half an hour before James took charge with
fatherly assertion and forced all the children to their beds, keeping them
enclosed within the safety of the Quaker-proof den under lock and key. Mummy
and daddy and Munroe remained outside, where they continued to argue beyond the
muffling walls.

‘I
’
m going after them,
’
Elizabeth declared.

‘It
’
s the middle of the night,
darl
,
’
Munroe barked.
‘
You
won
’
t be able to see a
nothin
’
out there. Sit your butt back down; your boys are coming back, okay? They’re
just lost, or Andy saw something shiny and got distracted.
’

Munroe was too soft. They all knew something had gone wrong.
The night grew darker and darker, bringing nothing but more violent and
terrifying imaginative ends to their lost brothers. In the basement, Violet was
silent while the others spent the hours dissecting each possible scenario with
unflinching detail. Tim sat with her, and they sat in silence together.

Sarah lit some candles and then sat with Ned. She asked him,
‘Do you think they
’
re dangerous, the
Skyquakers
?
’

‘I don
’
t know,
’
Ned said.
‘
I
haven
’
t seen them do anything bad, not in person. I haven
’
t
even seen what they look like under those astronaut suits.
’

‘But it
’
s not them, it
’
s
the Suits,
’
said a student.
‘
I
’
m
more scared of them.’

The origin and purpose of these ‘Suits’ was still a mystery
to Ned. After hearing the horrific tales of Darwin, he could not picture these
hunters and slaughterers as human beings. He imagined them as
transmutated
Quaker-hybrids, human bodies with the heads of
blowflies, dressed in suits, armed with ray guns and unknowingly blasting away
at a crowd of running people. The biologists, who had seen their perfectly
humanised forms, were convinced that they were more likely prisoners and
brainwashed captives. Dr Lizzie had always believed the Suits were perfectly
aware of their actions, and had jumped ship the moment it began to sink to
become loyal patrons to the Quaker movement. Surely no sane human would
knowingly and willingly do such harm to their own people, but the damage to
Darwin had been devastating, and the biologists could only pray others like
them managed to escape the wrath of the Suits.

Ned lifted his head with confidence. ‘Others are still out
there. Heaps of them.’

‘How do you know?
’

‘Lily!
’
he cried.
‘
Lily
’
s
still out there. She
’
s locked away safe in her
broadcasting room at Charles Darwin University. The last DJ on Earth. I listen
to her every night.’

The students exchanged suspicious looks.

‘But,
’
Tim said,
‘
they
torched Darwin. The city, the schools, everything. The whole place is rubble.
’

‘No, no, no. Jackrabbit tried to tell me all this bull as
well, but Lily is real. How could I be listening to her voice every night if
she weren
’
t?
’

‘How can you be listening to her voice if there
’
s
no electricity?
’
Tim asked.
‘
And
a local station like that would certainly not have enough strength to reach
this far out into the desert, let alone across another state border.
’

‘She has a big generator, then.
’

‘Really?
’

‘Just listen to her!
’
Ned seized
his radio and flicked it on. He had a stash of AA batteries to keep the
handheld device going, and he always had it tuned to 104.1. When he finally
picked up a crisp sound, he placed the radio in the centre of the room for all
the students to hear her human voice.

‘
That was
‘
Saving Me
’
,
by Nickelback. You
’
re listening to Lonely Lily,
the last DJ on Earth,
live
24/7 from Charles Darwin U.
’

‘
Ew
, Nickelback. Turn it off,
’
one student moaned.

Ned took the radio back and stared at it for a moment.
Something familiar ticked, but he shrugged it off.
‘
I guess
with no new music coming in, she
’
s only got a limited playlist.
’

It was almost midnight when James finally went to bed.
Violet sat up from her mattress and saw through the curtains Dr Lizzie still
sitting outside by the fire, drenched in the glow of the white moon, silently
sipping a cup of tea. She put on a coat and went to join her. Dr Lizzie didn’t
protest it; perhaps she was too warn from James to protest anything anymore.
Munroe was there too, drinking whiskey. No one spoke. The three simply sat in
front of the dying flames as a cold breeze crept across the desert. No one made
an effort to add more wood to keep the fire burning, as if there was no need to
prolong the night.

Violet tried to catch Elizabeth’s eyes, cast down into her
mug. She looked emotionally drained. James had the ability to suck the life out
of people sometimes, and on this night she felt more powerless than ever
against him. Violet was surprisingly calm, calmer than most believed she would
be. She was a drama queen at times, a princess, but these last months had
proven she was a warrior too. She sat there close to her teacher, simply
watching the night, the stars, the wood burn down into glowing coals. She had
watched the seasons change around her, from spring, to summer, and soon autumn
too. In that time, the country’s condition had not improved: no new faces ever
arrived at Zebra Rock; no word on the airwaves indicated there was anyone out
there coming to their rescue. Often they all forgot that seven billion people
had gone missing overnight, but somehow seven billion down to thirteen had a
far lesser impact than thirteen to eleven.

The coals had not quite turned to ash completely when a
sound in the bush made them all pause and turn. Something approached them in
the dark. The rustle of staggering feet alerted them, made them sit upright. A
shadow emerged in the familiar height and build of one of their own.

Violet whispered, ‘Michael?’ The shadow didn’t answer. She
stood. ‘Michael!’

She leapt over the fire and ran through the long grass
towards him. When Michael looked up, she saw his familiar face under the
moonlight. He teetered towards her. They collapsed into each other
’
s
arms panting, frantic.

‘Michael! Someone, help!’

James and the other students leapt from their beds and ran
outside. They all saw Michael in Violet’s arms in the dirt: clothes torn, skin
cut, exhausted. He was draped over her, embracing her with all his strength and
crying into her blonde hair with gasps of panic and relief. Closer, the others
came to see his extensive injuries. His face was smothered in dirt and grazes.
His upper thigh was bleeding profusely from some sort of puncture wound. He was
pale and dehydrated, but more shockingly, he was alone.

‘I
’
m sorry!
’
he kept wailing.
‘
I
’
m sorry! I
’
m
sorry!
’

‘Jesus, he
’
s shot!
’
James
cried. ‘Munroe! Get a first aid kit!’

‘Where
’
s Andrew?
’
Elizabeth demanded.

‘I
’
m sorry! I
’
m
sorry!
’

‘Quick, get him inside,
’
Munroe
ordered.

They dragged Michael into the gallery. On a mattress, they
laid him down and managed to tear open his old jean pants to see the bloody
wound above his knee. Munroe began working with cloths and bandages while
others held up torches for better light. Michael was wailing as he lay there.
He pressed his hands against his head and kept crying over and over,
‘
Oh,
god! I
’
m sorry! I couldn
’
t!
’

James seized his wrist and sharply demanded,
‘
What
the hell happened, Michael? Where is Andy?
Where
is he?
’

Michael shut his eyes and started sobbing,
‘
He
’
s
dead.
’

For a moment, there was nothing.

Elizabeth stuttered,
‘
What?
’

‘He
’
s dead. They caught him. They
killed him. Oh, god, I
’
m so sorry!
’

Violet covered her mouth with her hand. Other students
stepped back in horror. Elizabeth kept shaking her head as tears began to form
in her eyes. ‘No!
’
she
cried.
‘Don’t lie to
me, Michael!
What happened? How could he
—
? He was
right
there
with you!
’

‘I
’
m sorry!
’
he wailed. ‘I left him
…
I can
’
t believe I
left him… But he’s dead. He’s really dead.
’

Munroe held a pair of small tweezers in his hands.
‘
Hold
him down,
’
he told the others.
‘
I have to
get the shrapnel out.
’

As the metal ends plunged into the open gash in his thigh,
Michael gave out an agonising scream. It was too much for Violet and she had to
leave the room.

In the morning, after spending a night mending him, Munroe
came to the others around the campfire and recalled the story that Michael had
told him. In misery, the settlers sat together and forced themselves to hear
it. It was the only way to convince themselves that it was real, that it wasn
’
t
just some nightmare they had conjured in their sleep.