The Ellie Chronicles (16 page)

IT TOOK FOREVER to get organised. We had to be so careful. On the one hand there was a sense of urgency, because every time I looked at the campsite I felt they were getting busier. In particular there was more and more movement around the yellow building where we assumed Homer and the Greene guy were held. I couldn’t work out what was going on, but I was getting bad vibes. As soldiers went in and out I imagined, or sensed, that they were acting cocky and aggressive. Kind of high-powered. Around the rest of the camp they seemed pretty lazy.

Then at about two o’clock a vehicle came in and parked quite close to the building. I had the feeling that it was going to be involved with Homer and Nick Greene in some way. My hunch was that it was going to take at least one of them away. I didn’t have any evidence for that. Just the way it was placed I guess, and the way the driver, when he got out, talked to a couple of soldiers, with a lot of gesturing at the demountable.

The ute was a funny little green four wheel drive, a Suzuki, with a tray back. For a moment I got the sick idea that maybe it was there to take away a couple of bodies but I shook my head fast to get rid of that one. I couldn’t let myself think in those terms.

The car’s arrival showed at least one thing though, that there must be a driveable track going out to the north-west. I didn’t know if that information would be any use to us but I filed it in the back of my mind.

We spent nearly two hours watching to see what they were doing in the way of sentries. Boy, did that bring back memories of the war. Already, in the months since it had finished, I’d more or less forgotten these long, boring but tense periods of time. They were boring because you couldn’t move, you just stayed hidden in your spot, watching and listening and getting thirsty and hungry, and they were tense because your life was on the line and at any moment there could be a disaster. I think only people who have been there can understand what it’s like. From a distance I suppose war can seem exciting, but for every five minutes of wild head-spinning, gut-churning, nerve-charging action there’s a hundred hours of hard slogging and tedious work.

Anyway, as far as I could tell there was no real system of sentries. Instead there seemed to be guys out in the bush wandering around with their rifles, each with his own area to cover. Some were dangerous and some were slack. For example, some came into the campsite to talk to their mates and have a smoke, until the guy in charge pointed them back into the bush. But there were times when a whole large area would be unpatrolled for more than twenty minutes, even half an hour. It wasn’t much of a window of opportunity. But it was all we had.

At last I signalled to Lee that we should sneak out. It was hard to move for the first few minutes – I was so sore and cramped from being in the one spot. But I knew we couldn’t leave Gavin any longer.

When we got to the creek bed I couldn’t see him for a minute but then he dropped from a branch right above my head. Gave me a hell of a shock. No matter how long I was caught up in this fighting stuff I seemed to have trouble remembering a few basic rules, one of which was that you need to look above the level of your own eyes. I wished I could remember it. My chances of staying alive would increase quite a bit if I did.

I explained to the boys what I had in mind. They looked doubtful but I guess neither of them had any better ideas, because they didn’t say anything.

It meant using Gavin, which I didn’t like as a matter of principle, but it’s funny how when you’re desperate and everything’s on the line principles can fade fast from your memory. Of course he was happy to be involved, even if he wasn’t confident about my plan. I think he was too lonely and even scared to be on his own for hours more. He figured that being in the attack had to be better than spending more time alone. I wasn’t so sure I agreed, but we were fresh out of choices.

We had to do two trips with the drums. We left the leaking one till last, to cut the smell factor down. They really were too heavy for Gavin, and the ground was getting steeper, so Lee and I took one each.

It was an excruciating little journey. The trouble was, we couldn’t just move on a hundred metres, have a look round, and move on again. We had to go from one hiding place to another. Gavin was quite useful, because we could send him ahead to check that the way was clear. It was his job to find each new hiding place. And in the bush, in daylight, there aren’t actually a lot of hiding places for three people and two drums of petrol.

He did a pretty good job though. A couple of times he had us in situations where we really didn’t have enough cover. One was a hollow in the ground where we were expected to lie down and somehow be out of sight, and the other was a hollow tree that barely had enough room for him, let alone us two as well. But I think we were able to convey to him that we didn’t appreciate being turned into easy targets, and he soon got the message.

A hundred metres from the point I wanted to reach we holed up between a couple of grass trees. They were a bit prickly, but it was a good spot to wait. From there Lee could begin his journey to the other side of the gully, taking the drums, while Gavin and I went back to the gully to get the other two.

I had to take a short rest back there. I seemed to have no energy left. I wanted to get to Homer as soon as possible but I’d had no food, no water, and we’d been on the go all day. Gavin beckoned me down the creek bed a bit further and showed me a pool the size of a table. The water seemed clear enough and I drank it like a dog, head down and bum up, lapping away till I could feel it washing against my insides.

If the first trip had been tough the second was a nightmare. I knew it would be of course. Maybe that’s why I felt so stuffed before we started. But even so. Again I got Gavin to range on ahead but this time I had to carry both the drums, with a rifle across my back that got heavier with each step. At least one of the drums felt only half full now. I wondered if Lee had taken both his drums together, like he’d planned, or whether he’d given up and done them one by one.

And then suddenly we were in trouble. I’d just joined Gavin between a couple of smallish boulders, neither of which offered much cover. I could see the problem though. There wasn’t anywhere else for quite a way. But just as I got to him I heard footsteps coming towards us, at a slightly higher level.

They sounded like they were about fifty metres away. I tapped Gavin on the shoulder and gestured to him to be quiet. He looked up at me, anxiously, but with an expression of . . . I don’t know what exactly, but he didn’t take his eyes off me for the next few minutes. The steps got slowly closer and closer. I was sweating, feeling like a trapped fox, about to gnaw my leg off so I could escape. I knew there was no-one to defend us here. International law didn’t stretch this far into the bush.

I shuffled around to get my rifle off my back. God, if I had to fire it here, there would be hell to pay. I’d probably be signing the death warrants of Homer and the Greene guy. And probably Lee’s as well. But what else could I do? If he found us, if we let him capture us, that’d probably result in death warrants all round.

I had to manoeuvre the rifle around Gavin’s head. There wasn’t much room. The steps were so close and somehow the sounds were getting magnified in my head. I shifted my position slightly. I couldn’t work the bolt on the rifle as it would make too much noise. Still, I’d have a moment. He’d be so shocked that he’d take a second or two to react, surely?

He was right at the rocks. He stopped. It was like he knew we were there, just a metre away now. He’d lean forward, turn his head slightly to the right and see us. That’d be the end. I could imagine it so clearly. I even knew what his face would look like. His shocked hard face, the face of a killer. I raised the rifle another few inches. What was he doing? Why the delay? Was he trying to torture us? I heard a funny noise. A gushing of water, quite a strong stream. A pungent smell drifted into the space between the rocks. At the same time a bubbling darkish pool started to spread towards Gavin’s feet.

Any other time I might have got the giggles. My eyes locked on to Gavin’s. Luckily we were both too scared to laugh. Then I started to feel revolted by the smell. Working on a farm, you see everything, you smell everything, you get used to anything, but somehow this really made me feel disgusted.

Maybe it wiped out the smell of the petrol for him though. Maybe he didn’t have much sense of smell. Who knows? They say kids have a stronger sense of smell than adults.

The gushing stopped. I distinctly heard his zipper go up. That’s how close he was. Then the footsteps started again and he went on his way.

Gavin, with a mixture of joke disgust and real disgust, showed me how the urine had reached his shoe and wet the side of it. I made a face then put my finger to my lips. We still weren’t safe from this guy, not by a big margin.

But he didn’t come back. After about fifteen minutes we crawled out, looking around like wombats sniffing the evening air, and set off again. I hoped Lee wasn’t getting too worried. We hadn’t worked out what to do if he got no signal from me. We should have. We already had enough problems.

It was another fifteen minutes before we got to the grass trees. And as we got the pair of drums into place, we started to lose control of the situation. It was like we’d triggered trouble. We hadn’t of course, it was just coincidence, but I’ve never been too sure about this coincidence thing. My friend Robyn used to have some joke about coincidence being God’s way of telling you to wake up. Except I don’t think Robyn saw it as a joke. She was pretty religious. Maybe it wasn’t a joke.

In this case though, it was more likely to be the devil telling us to wake up. Because suddenly it looked like they were going to do something with Homer and the other guy. The man in charge strode out of one hut, yelled a few orders, and the next minute half a dozen soldiers had lined up in a little squad in the middle of the clearing. They did it pretty efficiently too. I wasn’t wildly happy about that. I’d almost been forgetting that they were in some way members of a military force. I’d been trying to convince myself that they were slack but they didn’t look slack while this guy was in charge.

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.’