Tomorrow When The War Began (11 page)

, the main shopping drag, was a mess. Robyn
and Lee had come in from the opposite end to Homer and Fiona, but
their problems were the same. They’d taken an hour to travel one
block, because there were two groups of soldiers looting; one group
in the chemists and one in Ernie’s Milk Bar.

As they waited, hiding in the staircase of
City and Country Insurance, they’d heard a noise at the top of the
stairs. They’d turned around and found themselves looking at Mr
Clement, the dentist, crouching there furtively, peering down at
them.

Lee and Robyn had been wildly excited to see
him, just as Homer and I were to hear about it. But he hadn’t been
so excited to see them. It turned out that he’d been there the
whole time, watching them without saying anything. It was only when
he got a cramp that he made a noise. When they asked why, he just
said something about least said, soonest mended’.

He did give them some valuable information,
however grudgingly and impatiently. He said everyone who’d been
caught was held at the Showground. He said that there were two
types of soldiers: professionals and the ones who were just there
to make up the numbers. Conscripts probably. The professionals were
super efficient but the conscripts were badly trained and poorly
equipped, and some of them were really vicious. Oddly enough, it
was the professionals who treated people better.

He said that the soldiers hadn’t got the
numbers to search the town thoroughly, house by house. Their policy
was to preserve their own lives at any cost. If they suspected
danger in a house they’d set up a rocket launcher and destroy the
house, rather than go in to a possible ambush. He said he thought
there were a few dozen people like himself hiding out, but after
they’d seen what happened to people who, in his words, ‘tried to be
heroes’, they were all keeping well out of sight. Robyn got the
impression that Mr Clement had his family hidden somewhere close by
but he wouldn’t answer any personal questions, so they gave up
asking. Then a patrol went past the building, and Mr Clement got
really agitated and told them to go.

They crept along the street, but there was
little cover and not enough darkness, as the lights were on in
several shops. They were dodging towards the door of the newsagency
when shots started pouring down the street. Robyn said they sounded
so loud it was like they were from ten metres behind, but in
reality they didn’t know who was firing or where the shots were
coming from. But Robyn and Lee were definitely the targets.

‘We were two steps from the glassed-in bit
that takes you to the door of the newsagents,’ Robyn explained.
‘That was the only thing that saved us. It was like we already had
the momentum up to go those two steps. Even if we’d been hit by a
dozen bullets we’d still have gone the two steps.’

They got into that little bit of cover and
went straight on, through the smashed door of the news-agency
itself. Robyn took the lead, not realising that Lee had been shot.
The newsagency was dark but there was enough light from the street
for them to see their way. The trouble was there was enough light
to make them good targets, too.

Both of them knew of course that the
newsagency goes right through to the carpark and

Glover Street

. Their idea was to get out the back and then
go in whatever direction seemed better at the time. But when Robyn
was nearly at the back door she realised two things: that the door
was locked, and that Lee was a long way behind her. ‘I thought he’d
stopped to look at the pornos,’ she said. But when she turned
around she could see by the paleness of his face that he was hurt.
He was limping heavily, staring at her but biting his lip,
determined not to cry out. She hoped he’d just pulled a muscle but
she said ‘Were you hit?’ and he nodded.

Robyn skipped over the next bit pretty quickly
but it’s one of the reasons for writing all this down, because I
want people to know about stuff like this, how brave Robyn was that
night. I don’t want medals for her, and neither would she – well I
don’t know, I haven’t asked her, she’d probably love it – but I
think she was a bloody hero. She picked up the photocopier that
sits on a stand near the lottery desk and chucked the whole thing
through the door. Then she ran to Lee, heaved him onto her back,
across her shoulders, and carried him through the shattered door,
kicking out bits of glass as she went. Now I know Robyn’s fit, and
strong, but she’s not that strong. Don’t ask me to explain it. I
reckon it’s like those stories of mothers lifting cars to get
trapped babies out from underneath, then you ask them the next day
to do it again and they can’t even move it, because the urgency’s
gone. Robyn, being religious, has got a different explanation, and
who knows? I’m not stupid enough to say she’s wrong.

Well, carrying Lee, she staggered along the
five buildings to get to the restaurant. The old door at the back,
facing the carpark, had been broken open, so she got in there OK.
She dropped Lee onto the loading dock and pulled up the roller door
and dragged him into the darkness. Then she raced out to the front
to have a look into

Barker Street

. There were three soldiers looking into the
newsagency. After a couple of minutes two more came out and joined
the other three, then the five of them came walking past the
restaurant, lighting cigarettes and talking and laughing. They
seemed to just walk off into the distance without showing much
interest, so she figured there wouldn’t be any more problems from
them for a while.

‘They probably thought you were looters,’
Homer said. ‘Like Mr Clement said, there must be a few around, so
the patrols’d see them quite often. They wouldn’t bother mounting a
big operation just for that. And they wouldn’t want to blow up

Barker Street

unnecessarily.’

‘But they blew up Corrie’s,’ I said.

‘Mmm,’ Homer agreed. ‘But the shops in

Barker Street

are still full of stuff. And maybe they found
some way of connecting Corrie’s with the lawn-mower bomb. Or maybe
it was just an easy low-risk target for them. Maybe they’re wiping
out all the farm houses.’

Robyn looked horrified and we had to explain
what had happened at Corrie’s. Eventually, though, she finished her
story. She’d cut Lee’s trousers off while he lay there making rude
jokes, but he was cold and pale and she thought he was in shock.
She’d stopped the bleeding with a pressure bandage, wrapped him up
warmly, then somehow found the courage to go back to City and
Country Insurance and wait there nearly an hour, for Mr Clement.
When he arrived, with a couple of bags of food, she bullied him
into coming to look at Lee.

‘He wasn’t keen,’ she admitted, ‘but in the
end he was good. He went into his surgery and came back with all
kinds of bits and pieces, including painkiller injections. He gave
Lee a needle, then inspected the wound. He said it was clean, and
the bullet had gone right through, and if we kept it clean he’d
probably be OK, but it’d take a while to heal. He stitched it up,
then he taught me how to give injections, and on condition I didn’t
bother him again he left some stuff with me – painkillers and
disinfectant and a syringe and needles. I’ve given him two
injections today. It was cool fun.’

‘Robyn!’ I nearly passed out myself, in
amazement. ‘You faint when people even mention injections!’

‘Yes, I know,’ she said, with her head on one
side as though she were a botanist studying herself. ‘It’s funny,
isn’t it?’

‘What’s he like now?’ Homer asked. ‘Can he
walk?’

‘Not too much. Mr Clement said he’s got to
rest it till the stitches come out, in a week minimum. He showed me
how to take them out.’

I just rolled my eyes. Robyn taking out
stitches! There was no point even commenting.

‘Was there any sign of Lee’s family?’

‘No. And the place was a mess. Windows broken,
tables and chairs smashed. And the flat upstairs had been
ransacked. It’s hard to know whether there’d been a fight, or
whether the soldiers did it for fun.’

‘How’s Lee reacting to all this?’

‘He couldn’t get upstairs, because of his leg,
so I had to describe it to him. Then he’d think of something else
that he wanted to know about, and I’d have to run up the stairs to
look for it. I went up and down those stairs a lot of times. He was
pretty upset though, about everything: his family, the flat, the
restaurant, his leg. But he was a bit better tonight. Getting some
colour in his face. That was about three hours ago. I’ve been
sitting here a long time, waiting for you guys. I was getting
slightly worried.’

‘You were meant to wait on the hill behind the
house,’ I said.

‘No I wasn’t! It was here! That’s what we
said!’

‘No! It was the hill!’

‘Listen, we agreed we’d ...’

It was crazy. We were having an argument.
Homer said, in a tired voice, ‘Belt up. We’ll just have to make
better arrangements next time. Anyway Ellie, when we were talking
about it before, you couldn’t remember whether it was the house or
the hill.’

There was a pause. Then Homer continued.
‘We’re going to have to get him out. They’ll find him pretty
quickly there. The more settled these people get, the more they’ll
organise themselves, and the more they’ll start getting tighter
control of everything. They might be tolerating guys like Mr
Clement for now, but he won’t last long. These people showed at
Corrie’s how serious they are.’

We sat there, in silent agreement, three minds
working on one topic: how to get Lee away from Barker Street
despite his wounded leg.

‘One of the biggest problems is that Barker
Street seems to crawl with soldiers, compared to the rest of town,
anyway,’ Homer added.

‘We need a vehicle,’ Robyn said helpfully.

‘Well whoopiedoo,’ I said, unhelpfully.

‘What about a silent vehicle?’ said Homer.
‘It’d be hard to drive a car in there without us all getting shot
up.’

‘Let’s brainstorm,’ Robyn said.

‘Great,’ I said. ‘I’ll get the textas and
butcher’s paper.’

‘Ellie!’ Robyn said.

‘Strike two,’ Homer said to me. ‘Three strikes
and you’re out.’

I don’t know what was wrong with me. Just
tired I guess. And I tend to get a bit sarcastic when I’m
tired.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I’ll get serious. What was
the last nomination? Silent vehicles. OK. Golf carts. Shopping
trollies. Wheelbarrows.’

I was quite impressed with myself, and the
others were definitely impressed.

‘Ellie!’ Robyn said again, but in quite a
different tone to the last time.

‘Prams. Pushers,’ said Homer.

The ideas started flying.

‘Furniture on wheels.’

‘Pedicabs.’

‘Horse-drawn vehicles.’

‘Toboggans. Skis. Sleighs. Forklift
trucks.’

‘Those things, what are they called, on
wheels, that people served afternoon tea from in the old days.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

‘Billy carts.’

‘Beds on wheels. Hospital beds.’

‘Stretchers.’

‘Wheelchairs.’

Like with the cap of the petrol tank on the
ride-on mower we’d been ignoring the obvious all this time. Homer
and I looked at Robyn. ‘Could he ride in a wheelchair?’

She considered. ‘I guess so. I think it’d hurt
him, but if we could elevate his leg and make certain we didn’t
bump it ... And,’ she added with eyes gleaming, ‘I could give him
another shot.’

‘Robyn! You’re dangerous!’

‘What else was possible, from the things we
said?’

‘A wheelbarrow’s possible, but again it’d have
to hurt him. From our point of view it’s easier than a lot of
things. A stretcher would be good for Lee, but we’re all pretty
tired. I don’t know how far we could carry him.’

‘A forklift would be the most fun. I think
they’re easy to drive. And the bullets would just bounce off
it.’

Something in Homer’s last sentence flicked a
switch in my brain.

‘Maybe we’re going about this the wrong
way.’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, we’re thinking of little quiet sneaky
things. We could go to the other extreme. Rock up in something so
indestructible that we didn’t give a damn who saw or heard us.’

Robyn sat up. ‘Such as?’

‘I don’t know, a bulldozer.’

‘Oh!’ Robyn said. ‘One of those trucks with
the shovel in front. We could use the shovel as a shield.’

Suddenly the three of us got very excited.

‘All right,’ said Homer. ‘Let’s look at this
carefully. Problem one, driver. Ellie?’

‘Yes, I think so. We’ve got the old Dodge at
home, for taking hay round the paddocks and stuff. Driving that’s
just like driving a big car. It’s got a two-speed diff but that’s
cool. I couldn’t say for certain until I saw it, but it should be
OK.’

‘Problem two then. Where would we get it?’

Robyn interrupted. I’d forgotten she hadn’t
seen Homer in action at Corrie’s.

‘Homer, are you on something?’

‘Sorry?’

‘You keep going like this, you’ll lose your
reputation. Aren’t you meant to be just a wild and crazy guy?’

He laughed, but then went straight back to
being serious. Robyn made a face at me and I winked back. ‘So,
problem two?’

‘Well, the Council Depot’s the obvious place.
It’s what, three blocks from the restaurant. It’s probably been
broken open, but we should take bolt cutters in case. The keys to
the vehicles would be in an office there somewhere, again assuming
they haven’t been looted.’

‘All right. Sounds logical. Problem three.
Suppose we pick Lee up. We can’t drive to Ellie’s in the truck,
obviously. And Lee can’t use a bike. How do we get him to
Ellie’s?’

This was the toughest one. No one had any easy
answers. We sat staring at each other, turning ideas over in our
minds. Finally Homer spoke up.