Nature of Ash, The (26 page)

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Authors: Mandy Hager

BOOK: Nature of Ash, The
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WHILE I’M RECOVERING
, I let our bastard PM gloat over the destruction of Muru. Of course he takes the credit, praises our police and army to the hilt. He crows over their efficiency as if he planned the whole bloody affair. No mention of the WA’s involvement — just oozes self-congratulation on a job well done. But by the fifth day of my enforced bed rest I revolt. There’s been way too much time to think: if I don’t act now, I’ll go mad. There’s no avoiding how bad things are. Erich’s houses could well take months to sell — if they do at all — despite Lucinda’s optimism. Meanwhile, I’ve got five mouths to feed. Then there’s Grandma’s eviction threat. I really need to make some big decisions fast.

What’s really galling is that even though the missile attack on Niún
i Farm was blamed on Muru, the escalation in hostilities hasn’t slowed. Now, thanks to
every deadline and ultimatum being pissed on by the WA, the UPR is shipping home its workers not deemed suitable to fight — splitting off the older women and the kids, and arming the rest. Already there’s been a shootout down at Clifford Bay. Our PM might be pretending we’re winning, but he’s on his own.

I spend the morning at Lucinda’s office, making calls and talking in circles until, together, we nut out a plan. Thank god she’s here — this is one decision I don’t want to make alone. While she handles a few final calls, I go home to tell Mikey and the others what I propose. Mei and Gurien take some persuading, but I’m not surprised: they’ve lived in fear of the authorities their entire lives. In the end, though, they all buy in — on Mikey’s condition that we take Winston C.

Next I go and break the news to Jeannie and Trav. She’s brought him home from hospital, and taken a few days off work. He’s looking in remarkably good shape.

‘I’m going to hold a press conference,’ I say. ‘Lucinda’s going to get it broadcast here and stream it overseas. I’m going to tell them everything: the way the PM used Dad’s death to implicate the UPR, the way he let the WA missile the farm, and how their Secret Service controlled Muru and called all the shots … How they killed Dad.’

‘Good god, Ashley, you can’t do that. They’ll bloody crucify you!’

‘I’ll lay low — we’re going to get out of town. Anyway, Lucinda says that if the whole world knows, I should be safer. Then, if they do anything to me, they’ll look even worse.’

‘You really think that will stop them?’

‘Probably not. But this whole thing’s getting uglier by
the day, whether I talk or not — at the rate we’re going, there’ll come a point when we’ll have no choice but to take up arms. If I can’t stop it, then I want to be ready. I want Grandma and Mikey safe.’

Trav clears his throat. ‘I’m with you, mate.’

‘Cheers, bro. But Jeannie needs you here.’

He looks pissed off, and Jeannie looks shattered. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asks.

‘I’ve talked to Monica. It’s no surprise — her business is in the shit. I’m going to take us all up there to live in the campground, and when I can sell the houses here I’ll buy the land. Mei and Gurien have said they’ll help me take on Grandma’s care, and Mikey’s sweet so long as he’s with Jiao. We’ll have rainwater for drinking, the river for irrigation and washing, and room to grow some food. And, if the internet ever comes back online, we’ll use it to catch up on our study until things come right.’

‘But what if you’re hunted down by their Secret Service.’

‘Then I’ll go into hiding if I get the chance. But I’ll be leaving Mikey with people who care for him — accept him — and who’ll defend him to the death. I’d do the same for them. They’re part of my family now — like you guys and Lucinda. We share a bond.’

‘Oh, Ashley, you make it sound so easy when it’s not.’

My face grows hot. ‘You think I don’t know that after everything I’ve been through?’

‘That should make you even more cautious.’

‘I’m not going to sit on my hands while people are killed for the sake of a few power-grubbing arseholes. Fuck that. If I have to fight, I will. You listened in to my talks with Dad. You know how he spent his life. I’m not
going to let him down, Jeannie — he always stood up for ordinary people’s human rights.’

Now it’s her turn to blush, as Trav claps his hands and beams at me. ‘William Shakespeare couldn’t have said it any better!’ He stands up and shakes my hand, grinning like a school kid whose enemy’s just been thrashed. ‘Don’t disappear — I’ll be back in a mo. Gotta take a leak.’

Jeannie’s slumped into her chair. She obviously recognises a stubborn bastard when she sees one. ‘Okay. Okay. But you’d better bloody keep in touch.’

‘Come with us,’ I say. ‘There’s enough room for everyone.’

She shakes her head. ‘I wish I could, but I’m afraid you’ve rubbed off on me. It’s my duty to try to minimise the harm. The more I dig, the more it looks like Commissioner Hargraves is in the know. I want to take him down.’ She rubs her forehead as if to soothe herself, and says nothing for a while. Seems caught up in her thoughts. Then she sits up straight. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but why don’t you take Travis? If he stays here, we’ll for ever be at each other’s throats. You’ll be a good influence, I think.’

‘But you know if he comes and there’s a fight, he won’t stand back.’

‘I know. But I suspect you’re right — the way we’re going right now, he’ll have no choice. And while I’m involved in sorting Hargraves I’d rather he was somewhere safe. Anyway, it’s good for him to have some friends who care for him, not like the losers he was hanging out with before. If he’s happy, then I’ll be happy too.’

‘Bloody hell, Ma. Do you mean it?’ Trav is standing at the door. In one long stride he’s over by her chair and kissing the top of her head. It’s good to see.

Jeannie is all efficiency now, and takes over the planning like the whole thing was her idea. Once a cop, always a cop, I guess. Her brother has a trailer we can hook up to the back of Erich’s car, which means we can take a heap more stuff. And she suggests that Trav drives the others up the day before I do the broadcast. She says she’ll organise safe transport to whisk me and Grandma off the following day, but it would be wise to get the others out before I dump on the PM and the WA.

I leave her and Trav to prattle on about what he’ll need to take with him. I feel wiped out already, though know I’m going to have to hold everything together till I’m done.
Jeezus
. There’ll be no going back once I’ve said my piece.

Two days later, I stand outside our apartment block with Jeannie and wave the others off. I feel oddly calm, like I’m living out something that’s been pre-ordained. All the same, it’s hard saying goodbye to Mikey, knowing there’ll be a shit-fight to survive before I can hope to see him again. The upside is he’s so relaxed with Trav, Jiao and her folks he hardly gives me a second glance as he drives away with our new patched-together family in Erich’s old patched-together car.

‘Good news,’ Jeannie tells me. ‘I’ve organised a friend who flies a helicopter to take you and your grandma north after your speech.’

‘Are you crazy? It’s supposed to be secret.’

‘Ashley,’ she says, smiling like she thinks I’m being a fool, ‘we’ve always known roughly what you’ve been up
to, and where you are. And we’ve always been on your side — always will. We’re not the bad guys here. Nor are the army. Nor, for the most part, are our misguided government.’

My god, have I been suckered in again?
‘What the hell do you mean?’

‘People are starting to understand what’s going on. Trust me, once Hargraves gets his come-uppance the core of the police will back you to the hilt. I guarantee that even if they do know where you’re living, they’ll keep you safe. The last thing this country needs is a martyr — they all agree on that. The safer you are tucked away, the less chance for things to flare further out of control.’

I stare at her. Remember the way we were waved through the road blocks. All the calls I made on our bugged phone that could’ve got me in the shit. The way the cops agreed to take Mum in alive and get her help. In fact, I’ve had a lot of people on my side: Mr Prakeesh at the hospital, Simon Chan, Erich, Monica — even Ana, once she climbed down off her broken horse. More good people than the few rotten bastards at the top. She’s just one bloody surprise after the next, is Jeannie. No wonder she doesn’t mind if Trav comes with us. But, hold on …

‘Does that mean you always knew where Mum was hiding out?’

She shakes her head. ‘I wish, though it’s entirely possible Hargraves did. We’ll have to wait and see.’ She puts her arm around my shoulders and guides me towards the stairs. ‘I promise you, Ashley, the police will do everything we can to keep you safe. We failed your father. No one wants to fail Mikey and you.’

Can I trust her?
Actually, I think I do. All along she’s done her best to help me, even if it didn’t seem so at the time.

I wait until she’s gone, then drop in at Lucinda’s on my way to collect Dad’s ashes from the undertaker. And though Lucinda’s surprised by Jeannie’s admission it seems that she agrees.

‘There are an awful lot of good people just bumbling along not really knowing what’s going on. After they’re made aware, that’s quite a different thing. Once the truth is out there in the world, it swells and grows until people can’t ignore it any more.’

As she runs me through our schedule for tomorrow, I try to put any remaining fears out of my mind. I have to learn to trust again at some point, I guess. Jeannie and Lucinda deserve to be top of the list.

Once we’ve agreed on the specific wording of my declaration, I take my leave and trek over to the undertakers for one final time. Lucinda’s paid his bill. I told her not to, but she insisted that what I’m about to do for the whole country is worth tenfold — though if I really want to make an issue of it, I can repay her when money from Erich’s houses comes through.

It’s the weirdest bloody feeling in the world, walking home with Dad’s remains clutched in my arms. Part of me feels sick, the rest relieved to have him close. I know just where I’m going to sprinkle them. The perfect place.

All night I prowl our empty apartment in Dad’s dressing gown and tuck away the things we’ve had to leave behind. It’s been a nightmare choosing what should stay or go:
everything
takes on meaning when you’re leaving it behind. In the end, we packed up the
things we’d need to set up a new life, only giving in to sentiment over photographs and books. Oh yeah, and the kite as well. Who knows? Maybe one day it will be nice to have some positive memento of my childhood.

Without people to inhabit them, the rooms are soulless husks. The quietness is unsettling, and gives me too much room to think. Will I ever really understand the souring of Mum’s life? Or how she got caught up in so much slaughter and destruction? Lucinda has told me about other covert Secret Service operations around the world, where people started out fighting for justice then woke one day to find their groups had been hijacked to prop up corrupt regimes. In the process members lost their grip on right and wrong. Lost their minds. Their families. Often their lives. I understand that, but the fact remains that Mum aided the murder of my father. And tortured Mikey, and tried to kill Trav, Jiao and me. Yet in the seconds before she died, she saved my life. She had the opportunity to knock off Mikey too — but she resisted.
Go figure that.
I might forgive her someday — but not now. Hell no. Not yet. My heart’s still too much of a mess.

I crawl into Dad’s bed for one last time, and tuck myself around the canister of his ashes as I run through what I’m going to say. Tomorrow I need to make the case so unquestionable and clear, no one will be able to contradict my claims. What was it Dad’s letter said?
Free
speech is only tolerated when it suits those in charge.
Screw them. It’s not just our own country that needs to know what those bastards put us through, their dirty tactics impact on the entire world. Once I close the door on this house, I’ll say my piece, then start a different sort
of life. Tomorrow I walk out a man — alone — ready or not.

In the morning, Jeannie drops me at the hotel near the airport where the interview will be broadcast live, then heads off to collect Grandma. The conference room’s set up with all the gear, and — Murphy’s bloody Law — the pushy bitch who tried to interview me outside Dad’s building has been chosen. She tries to schmooze me up, but I resist. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to take a stand.

Just when I think we are about to start, another woman rushes over and tries to put some kind of poxy make-up on me. I wave her the hell away and then the cameraman counts us in. I close my eyes and hold a picture of Dad’s face inside my head. Old Erich’s voice butts in over the top:
Heart not head, Ash. Heart not head
. It’s what I need.

I open up my heart, all right, then fire out my story from both barrels.
Stuff them all.
I tell it straight: the threats, the surveillance, the spies, the lies, the loss of lives … Ms Schmoozy Interviewer is so bloody excited, she can hardly keep pace. At one point I notice I’ve made her cry — and then I realise Lucinda and the cameraman are crying too. Christ, and I thought I was being staunch. I end it with a plea for the UN to help restore our rights — and to arrest the corrupt bastards at the top.

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