DIVE IN
Menu
Chapter One
At first there was the moaning. In her half-sleep she didn’t register the distress in the voice.
Then came the screams.
Horrible, terrified screaming that chilled her and made her shiver. She sat up and crawled out of her shelter, carrying her blanket. Again, louder and a man’s voice shouting something, shouting for help. She stood up, swaying in the harsh wind, and turned her head this way and that, trying to find the direction of the sound. Confused and distressed faces, coming out of the other shelters, looking at her. A light from one of the far shelters.
Screams.
She staggered towards the shelter, pulling her blanket around her, crying with the cold and the fear of what she would see. The screams grew louder and now a new sound.
Thump, thump, thump. Again and again. She stopped at the shelter entrance. The woman’s voice was still screaming; the man was growling. Thump, thump, thump. She breathed deeply and stepped in.
Blood.
At first it was all she could register.
Then she began to focus.
A man kneeling by the entrance, Lajer, repeatedly beating the ground with a rock.
A woman behind him, Moyara, dragging herself backwards along the ground, her legs spattered with blood, her eyes wild, constantly screaming in shock.
She looked again at Lajer beating the ground. She walked cautiously around him. His face, chest and hands spattered with blood, and, there, on the ground, was something. Whatever it was, Lajer had completely destroyed it.
She spoke quietly to him, ‘Lajer.’ He continued pounding. She spoke again, ‘Lajer, you can stop now.’
Lajer glanced up at her, his face twisted, anguished, but the beating continued.
‘Lajer, you can stop now.’ Moyara’s screams had decreased into sobs as she pushed her face into the far wall of their refuge. ‘Lajer, Moyara is crying. You can stop now.’
The beating slowed. He tried to speak and then he cried. Lajer cried deeply in relief, continually shaking his head. The stone dropped from his hands.
He turned around, crawling towards Moyara and touched her face gently. She started and tried to scream again as her eyes widened. Then she stopped and stared and reached out. He held her as her tears washed against his ear.
Another face at the entrance. Clara. Her eyes scanned the floor in fear then, seeing Moyara crying, holding Lajer. She walked softly to them, crouched down and held Lajer’s shoulders, wrapping her arms around his soaked chest. She rocked with them, whispering quietly. Frowning in confusion, Clara glanced across at their leader but she shook her head briefly in response. She didn’t know either.
Moyara was taken back with Clara, still crying, still covered in blood. Clara would take care of that. She would administer some of the little medicine they had left and clean her as best as she could. She looked outside at the confused faces of the rest of the camp standing, shivering in the cold.
‘I don’t completely understand what happened here, but go back. It’s over.’ She looked back. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow.’
They turned slowly, some glancing back, still frightened by the screams.
She crawled backwards into the shelter and approached Lajer as he stared at the ashes of his fire in the centre of the shelter. She stepped outside again and walked over to the rack of dried wood in the middle of the camp. She picked up several pieces, and approached the refuge, swaying in the wind. A log slipped out of her arms, hitting the ground with a hollow thud. She ignored it.
She bent down and entered the tent. Lajer was still unmoving. She put down the wood and arranged it on the ashes with some lighting straw on top of them. She then began striking the stones over the straw, trying to cause a spark.
‘It was in her.’ She turned round and looked at Lajer speaking again. ‘It was inside her.’
His face twisted and his hands moved seemingly randomly. ‘She started screaming. I ... I thought her time had come early. It came out,’ He paused, closing his eyes, ‘ There was blood everywhere and it just sat there hissing.’ His voice whispered almost calmly, ‘It just sat there,’ He shuddered and looked up. ‘I hate this place.’
He didn’t speak again that night.
Moyara couldn’t sleep. She kept screaming quietly to herself; twitching; rubbing herself; staring at the ground; constantly cleaning herself. She kept away from the others. She wouldn’t be touched. She wouldn’t speak to them. No-one was surprised when she ran to the City walls and fell on her knees, shouting to the top of the wall,
‘Kill me. Kill me.’
She got her wish. A rumbling crash and a white spark hit her. Briefly she seemed to be lifted from the floor, her outline yellow with fire. She twitched slightly and fell over, burning.
Their leader stood on the large stone in the centre of the camp with the others around her.
She spoke loudly, ‘After Moyara, we must take every precaution. We don’t know how this parasite enters the womb but we can do several things. Stitch covers on the underside of your dens. Never sit on the floor. Make chairs. Sit on rocks. Whatever. The carers must do the gathering and check all the food.’ She looked at each of the women sadly. ‘Wear cloth strips between your legs.’
She stared into the fire. It helped to ignore the cold if she thought about something else. No-one spoke. Only the crackling of the fire and the wind made any audible noise.
She nudged him, smiling uncertainly. Linus opened his coat and she nestled in. Her mate. He was the only male in the camp who was able to breed. If they were to survive beyond this group, many of the women in the camp had to have offspring. But he was hers tonight. She was pregnant again but there was no guarantee it would survive. No-one else had encountered other parasites and no-one had been infected. But life was hard. She stared at the edges of the under sheet, rippling as the wind tried to blow underneath them.
The wind never stopped. It pulled up the sand and dirt and it whipped your face so hard your cheeks bled. And this was freedom. Free to live by your own choice or die when nature told you. No-one else controlled you. Many found the life too hard. The searching for scraps of food, beetles, other insects to eat; avoiding the large dangerous animals that roamed in the dark. Listening at night to the wind mocking them as they tried to sleep.
In her weakness, she wanted to return as well but she knew what happened when you got to the City wall. Some got through the gaps in the wall though what happened to them after that no-one knows. Nobody Outside that is. They still risk it. To die by fire rather than stay out here. Even as they walked through the rotting, half-burnt bodies towards the wall. They still took their chances.
Some talked about the other Cities. If you stood on the mountain tops when the morning light rose, you could almost see a faint glow on the horizon that people had supposed was another City a long way away. Some had gone that way to find it. Of course, no-one knew what happened to them. Did they die on the journey? Did they get to some other City only to get burnt as well? Or did they get in? Maybe there isn’t a City that way anyway? This is the way legends are made.
Like Mahisa’s story.
Then came the screams.
Horrible, terrified screaming that chilled her and made her shiver. She sat up and crawled out of her shelter, carrying her blanket. Again, louder and a man’s voice shouting something, shouting for help. She stood up, swaying in the harsh wind, and turned her head this way and that, trying to find the direction of the sound. Confused and distressed faces, coming out of the other shelters, looking at her. A light from one of the far shelters.
Screams.
She staggered towards the shelter, pulling her blanket around her, crying with the cold and the fear of what she would see. The screams grew louder and now a new sound.
Thump, thump, thump. Again and again. She stopped at the shelter entrance. The woman’s voice was still screaming; the man was growling. Thump, thump, thump. She breathed deeply and stepped in.
Blood.
At first it was all she could register.
Then she began to focus.
A man kneeling by the entrance, Lajer, repeatedly beating the ground with a rock.
A woman behind him, Moyara, dragging herself backwards along the ground, her legs spattered with blood, her eyes wild, constantly screaming in shock.
She looked again at Lajer beating the ground. She walked cautiously around him. His face, chest and hands spattered with blood, and, there, on the ground, was something. Whatever it was, Lajer had completely destroyed it.
She spoke quietly to him, ‘Lajer.’ He continued pounding. She spoke again, ‘Lajer, you can stop now.’
Lajer glanced up at her, his face twisted, anguished, but the beating continued.
‘Lajer, you can stop now.’ Moyara’s screams had decreased into sobs as she pushed her face into the far wall of their refuge. ‘Lajer, Moyara is crying. You can stop now.’
The beating slowed. He tried to speak and then he cried. Lajer cried deeply in relief, continually shaking his head. The stone dropped from his hands.
He turned around, crawling towards Moyara and touched her face gently. She started and tried to scream again as her eyes widened. Then she stopped and stared and reached out. He held her as her tears washed against his ear.
Another face at the entrance. Clara. Her eyes scanned the floor in fear then, seeing Moyara crying, holding Lajer. She walked softly to them, crouched down and held Lajer’s shoulders, wrapping her arms around his soaked chest. She rocked with them, whispering quietly. Frowning in confusion, Clara glanced across at their leader but she shook her head briefly in response. She didn’t know either.
Moyara was taken back with Clara, still crying, still covered in blood. Clara would take care of that. She would administer some of the little medicine they had left and clean her as best as she could. She looked outside at the confused faces of the rest of the camp standing, shivering in the cold.
‘I don’t completely understand what happened here, but go back. It’s over.’ She looked back. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow.’
They turned slowly, some glancing back, still frightened by the screams.
She crawled backwards into the shelter and approached Lajer as he stared at the ashes of his fire in the centre of the shelter. She stepped outside again and walked over to the rack of dried wood in the middle of the camp. She picked up several pieces, and approached the refuge, swaying in the wind. A log slipped out of her arms, hitting the ground with a hollow thud. She ignored it.
She bent down and entered the tent. Lajer was still unmoving. She put down the wood and arranged it on the ashes with some lighting straw on top of them. She then began striking the stones over the straw, trying to cause a spark.
‘It was in her.’ She turned round and looked at Lajer speaking again. ‘It was inside her.’
His face twisted and his hands moved seemingly randomly. ‘She started screaming. I ... I thought her time had come early. It came out,’ He paused, closing his eyes, ‘ There was blood everywhere and it just sat there hissing.’ His voice whispered almost calmly, ‘It just sat there,’ He shuddered and looked up. ‘I hate this place.’
He didn’t speak again that night.
Moyara couldn’t sleep. She kept screaming quietly to herself; twitching; rubbing herself; staring at the ground; constantly cleaning herself. She kept away from the others. She wouldn’t be touched. She wouldn’t speak to them. No-one was surprised when she ran to the City walls and fell on her knees, shouting to the top of the wall,
‘Kill me. Kill me.’
She got her wish. A rumbling crash and a white spark hit her. Briefly she seemed to be lifted from the floor, her outline yellow with fire. She twitched slightly and fell over, burning.
Their leader stood on the large stone in the centre of the camp with the others around her.
She spoke loudly, ‘After Moyara, we must take every precaution. We don’t know how this parasite enters the womb but we can do several things. Stitch covers on the underside of your dens. Never sit on the floor. Make chairs. Sit on rocks. Whatever. The carers must do the gathering and check all the food.’ She looked at each of the women sadly. ‘Wear cloth strips between your legs.’
She stared into the fire. It helped to ignore the cold if she thought about something else. No-one spoke. Only the crackling of the fire and the wind made any audible noise.
She nudged him, smiling uncertainly. Linus opened his coat and she nestled in. Her mate. He was the only male in the camp who was able to breed. If they were to survive beyond this group, many of the women in the camp had to have offspring. But he was hers tonight. She was pregnant again but there was no guarantee it would survive. No-one else had encountered other parasites and no-one had been infected. But life was hard. She stared at the edges of the under sheet, rippling as the wind tried to blow underneath them.
The wind never stopped. It pulled up the sand and dirt and it whipped your face so hard your cheeks bled. And this was freedom. Free to live by your own choice or die when nature told you. No-one else controlled you. Many found the life too hard. The searching for scraps of food, beetles, other insects to eat; avoiding the large dangerous animals that roamed in the dark. Listening at night to the wind mocking them as they tried to sleep.
In her weakness, she wanted to return as well but she knew what happened when you got to the City wall. Some got through the gaps in the wall though what happened to them after that no-one knows. Nobody Outside that is. They still risk it. To die by fire rather than stay out here. Even as they walked through the rotting, half-burnt bodies towards the wall. They still took their chances.
Some talked about the other Cities. If you stood on the mountain tops when the morning light rose, you could almost see a faint glow on the horizon that people had supposed was another City a long way away. Some had gone that way to find it. Of course, no-one knew what happened to them. Did they die on the journey? Did they get to some other City only to get burnt as well? Or did they get in? Maybe there isn’t a City that way anyway? This is the way legends are made.
Like Mahisa’s story.
