Vulture's Gate (15 page)

‘You don't have to give me anything,' said Roc. ‘I could take it from you if I wanted.'

Bo instantly regretted her suggestion. She stood up and crossed the chapel to stand beside Callum. ‘I'm on Callum's side. If he doesn't want to help you, then neither do I.'

Roc put his hands on his hips. ‘Listen, boy,' he said, looking straight at Callum, ‘I'm not your enemy. I grew up in the Colony too. I understand you better than you think. You're scared I'm going to hurt your old men. But I'm not interested in destroying South Head right now. There are factions in the city that trade in lost boys and run sweatshops where kids work until they drop. They're my next target and they're enemies of the Colony. Haven't you heard that saying, “My enemy's enemy is my friend”? For now, we're on the same side.'

‘Flakie said you're going to bring down the Nekhbet Tower,' said Callum.

‘Most of the Colony have abandoned it so you shouldn't care. Your old men are probably on South Head. So I'll cut you a deal. I'll leave the Tower alone for now and help you get into the Colony.'

‘Why would you help me?'

‘If you have gold, we can make an exchange. My knowledge for your stash.'

‘You said you could take it.'

‘I'm not a bully. I'm a leader. I never force a boy to do anything if I can bargain with him first.'

Bo put one arm around Callum. ‘Do what you think is right,' she said. Even though Callum's expression was fiercely angry, she could feel him hesitating. Suddenly, she realised how much she wanted him to part with the gold. She bit her tongue to stop herself from arguing Roc's case. Mr Pinkwhistle started to growl and his spine undulated with anxiety. Bo knew he was sensing the tension in the air: fear, uncertainty and indecision.

Callum untied the green leather bag from his belt and threw it at Roc's feet.

‘Good call,' said Roc. ‘Let's go and join the celebrations.'

Behind the dilapidated mansion, in the open space that was once tennis courts, the Festers had built a bonfire. Teams of bigger boys stood raking the coals at the edge of the fire, while the small ones picked among the ashes, flicking smouldering chunks onto container lids.

‘Dinner,' said Roc, inviting Callum and Bo to join a group squatting around a wide dish covered with small, smoking brown lumps.

Bo reached down and picked one up. It smelt warm and nutty but it was hard to identify by firelight.

‘Try it,' said Roc.

Callum picked one up too and popped it in his mouth. ‘Crunchy,' he said.

‘Mine's chewy. Chewy and nutty,' said Bo, reaching for another. ‘What is it?'

‘Roasted cicada,' said Roc. ‘Maybe a few roasted crickets too – they're the crunchy ones. Cicada's mostly chewy.' He scooped up a handful of bugs and crammed them into his mouth.

Callum gagged and spat a mangled cricket back into his hand but Bo took another cicada and bit it in half. Roc smiled at her, his pale eyes sparkling in the firelight.

When the meal was finished, the Festers threw more timber on the bonfire, building it high. Some boys went to sit in the trees, some in the long grass, or they clustered in small groups on the edge of the tennis courts. Suddenly, as one, they all began to hum. The sound rose up into the night air like the whirr of small wings.

Festie picked up a stick and began to slowly tap out a rhythm on a broken tin. Then Roc walked to the front of the crowd with four of the other boys and started to clap a different rhythm that worked in and around the beat Festie was drumming.

Bo tipped her head to one side and listened closely. The rhythms made her heart change its pace. When the beat was established, six of the bigger boys started to make a deeper humming noise that rolled under all the other sounds. Bo's skin felt warm, as if the sound was making it tingle. Tier after tier of boys joined in with their own cries, while the steady beat of Festie's makeshift drum wove in and out of the voices and around the clapping.

Boys began to tap their feet and move slowly to the music. Because that was what it must be, thought Bo, even though she'd never heard anything like it before. Music. Each note unlocked something deep inside. Her throat throbbed. She shut her eyes and let the sounds enfold her.

Callum began to sing too, his voice warm and honey-sweet. His song wove its way around every part of Bo. Tears seeped out of her eyes, streamed down her dirty face and dripped from her chin.

‘What's happening? What's wrong with me?' she asked. She was trembling. Her breath came in short gasps that made her chest ache. ‘Is this the plague? Is this what it does to you?'

Callum stopped singing and cupped one hand under Bo's chin, catching the cascade of tears. He looked into her eyes and smiled.

‘It's all right, Bo. You're only crying.'

‘Girls don't cry,' she said, wiping her hand across her eyes. ‘Only boys cry!'

‘Everybody cries sometimes. Just let it happen.'

As the song grew stronger, some of the boys began to stamp their feet and move in time to the music. Without understanding the impulse, Bo found her feet moving too. It was as if the music and the tears were making things happen to her body, things she had no control over. Almost unconsciously, she found herself dancing alongside the Festers. Her tears stopped and she started to laugh, twirling through the long grass with Callum by her side. She looked up at the night sky, at the swirl of stars above. They were paler than those that hung above Tjukurpa Piti but they were the same familiar constellations. It was like a sign: a promise that here, among these wild boys, she could make a home.

Callum spun past her and for a moment she was stricken. She watched him as he jumped in time to the music, clapping his hands and stamping his feet. How could she explain to him that the idea of being locked inside the Colony with his fathers made her want to run away? How could she tell him that the thought of living without the open sky above her, without this crazy tribe of children to dance with, made her feel as if all the light inside her was extinguished. How was she going to convince him to stay?

22

LIFEBLOOD

Bo woke early to the sound of birds.
The dawn chorus sent a shiver coursing through her body. She had been dreaming of birds, of the fluttering of their wings near her face, of their sharp beaks and their beady eyes. She sat up and clutched her string bag of weapons. Beside her, Callum snuffled sleepily and turned away, back into his dreams. Quietly, she stepped over the sleeping bodies of Festers. Some boys were already up and hunting, crawling through the long grass in search of bugs and grubs for breakfast.

The new mansion was smaller than the last, with rooms opening onto a central courtyard. Far below lay a serpentine stretch of blue harbour. Bo was mystified at how the water had purchase in every corner of Vulture's Gate. It felt as though the harbour was edging against the city, waiting to pull it back into the sea. She pushed her way through the tangled undergrowth to a lookout point. Dewdrops glistened on the tips of wild grasses. On the edge of the cliff, Bo saw Blister in the boughs of an overgrown apricot tree reaching for a piece of high fruit. Suddenly he fell, his back arching. There was a sickening thud as he hit the ground.

‘Blister?' she called, running.

His body was twitching and a froth of orange foam spilled from his mouth. She knelt down and tried to hold him but his limbs thrashed wildly and his eyes rolled back in his head. Suddenly, he lay still and limp. She slipped her arms beneath him and carried him to the house, calling for Festie. But it was Roc who met her as she came staggering up the pathway.

‘Blister,' he said, taking the smaller boy from her. ‘Not Blister.' His face twisted in grief.

‘He was in the tree and then he fell and then he started twitching and . . .'

Roc cradled Blister's head against his chest and sniffed his breath.

‘Baited,' he said. ‘We'll have to move again. They know we're here.' His eyes were hard. He carried Blister back to the apricot tree and laid him gently beside its trunk.

‘We must bury him,' said Bo.

‘No,' said Roc. ‘We leave him here so other boys know this tree isn't safe.'

‘Can't we leave a warning sign instead? You can't simply let the birds and animals eat Blister!'

‘Most of the boys can't read. And the poison is made for boys, not beasts.'

Bo looked at Roc in disbelief. ‘I wasn't worried about the animals. This is Blister. Your friend. You can't leave him like this.'

Roc lifted one arm up to his face and covered his eyes.

‘We need to get the boys moving,' he said in a muffled voice. ‘I've made a mistake.'

Bo followed him back to the house. She found Callum standing on the stone steps of the patio, while a tiny boy tugged at his hand.

Bo bent down and swept the restless toddler into her arms. She pushed her face against his warm, soft neck.

‘Bo,' said Callum insistently, ‘what is going on?'

‘Blister is dead,' she replied. ‘The Festers are moving again.'

‘We don't have to go with them,' said Callum. ‘We can go and find my dads. That's why we came to Vulture's Gate, remember?'

‘Didn't you hear me?' she said. ‘Blister is
dead
.'

Callum blushed. ‘I'm sorry. I'm sorry he's gone. But we're not Festers, Bo.'

‘Maybe I am,' she answered.

Callum was about to respond when Roc came over and spoke directly to Bo. ‘Leave that kid,' he said. ‘He's too little. We don't take the smallest ones.'

‘But he can't take care of himself.'

‘We've got too many littlies already. Festie should never have fished that one out of the dumpster. He's too small.'

‘Like Festie when you found him,' said Bo, shifting the toddler onto her hip. But Roc was already striding away, shouting instructions at the boys milling in the courtyard.

Festie pushed his way over to join Bo and Callum. He tickled the baby boy, and Bug stretched out his arms for Festie to hold him.

‘Hello, little Bug,' said Festie. ‘I called him Bug 'cause he was right down the bottom of the bin, scrabbling around like a crazy thing. He'll be the lifeblood of the Festers one day. Don't know why he was thrown away. He's perfect. Maybe he had dads who changed their minds so they put him out with the garbage.'

‘Men from the Colony wouldn't do that,' said Callum.

‘Sure they would,' said Festie. ‘You one of those Festers with fancy-schmancy ideas about how Colony dads operate?'

‘No, but I have two dads that love me,' said Callum.

Festie laughed and raised his eyebrows sceptically.

‘Then what are you doing here?'

‘I'm leaving. We're going to find my fathers today.'

‘Sounds like that “Once upon a time” story Bo was telling last night,' said Festie. ‘Once upon a time a boy tried to go back to his dads what abandoned him and when they saw him again, they put him back in the garbage . . . Festers make better fathers than Colony men. Festers stick up for the underdogs.'

‘So why does Roc say we have to leave this Bug of yours behind?' asked Callum.

Festie blanched. ‘Roc never said that.'

‘Ask him,' said Callum.

Bo stepped between the two boys and pushed them apart.

‘You are both utterly annoying,' said Bo. ‘Give me back the Bug. I'll carry him.'

She didn't wait for either of the boys to join her but Callum fell in step as she headed out of the mansion, following the snaking line of boys into the wide road. Roc was at the front but when he looked over and saw Bo he strode back down the line, his expression like thunder.

‘I told you to leave that one behind,' he said.

‘I don't mind carrying him,' said Bo. ‘Callum and Festie will share him with me.'

‘It's not the point!' said Roc. ‘It's time to cull the little ones.'

‘Roc,' said Bo, putting a hand on his arm. ‘It's all right. We can do this.'

Roc shook her hand away. ‘Don't tell me what's going to happen. I say what's going to happen, not you.'

‘I know you're upset about Blister . . .'

‘Boys die all the time. You'll die too. And faster if you keep arguing with me.'

Bo blushed angrily and Mr Pinkwhistle, sensing her distress, scurried in front of her, bobbing from one leg to the other, his eyes flashing red as he monitored Roc's position and prepared to attack.

Roc looked down in irritation. Then he drew back his leg and kicked the roboraptor hard in the chest, sending him flying. Mr Pinkwhistle landed on the road and scudded across the bitumen, coming to a stop near a spiky hedge. Even though he landed hard on his spine, he pivoted around to charge again. Bo's whistle stopped him in his tracks. He stood, bewildered, nodding his head, waiting for the signal to attack.

‘I'm sorry he attacked. I won't let him hurt you,' said Bo.

Roc snorted in derision. ‘As if that piece of crap could do me any damage. It's as big a disappointment as you are,' he said. ‘I thought you were going to be useful.'

Bo narrowed her eyes. ‘And I thought you cared about things that mattered, that you were doing something important.'

Roc clenched his fists and leapt on her, knocking her to the ground. Bug went tumbling into the air and Bo cried out, ‘Bug! Someone catch him.'

Callum jumped forward and caught the toddler before he hit the ground. Bug began to wail as Callum shoved him into Festie's arms and then threw himself on Roc's back. The Festers were instantly upon him as he struggled to get Roc in a headlock. They dragged Callum clear while Bo fought like a wild cat. But Roc was almost man-sized and he used his fists without remorse. In minutes, he had her pinned firmly to the ground. She licked away a trail of blood from the side of her mouth and snarled at him.