Unsheltered by Clare Moleta (most inspirational books of all time txt) 📗

it might be contaminated by ash. They’d talked about the size of the flat where his sister and her husband lived with their three-year-old son, above their garage and repair shop. There might be some work for Li there, and Navid knew people down at the port. That was far enough ahead for her. But even blinded by the loss of Nerredin, Frank might still think bigger.

What’s it like inside the walls? Matti asked.

I don’t really know, sprout. A bit crowded, maybe? But you and me and Li don’t take up much space. Except when your mum sleeps sideways.

Did he know she was awake? Did he understand why she wasn’t helping with this, why it was better left to him? She couldn’t look Matti in the eye and talk to her about the future.

So, will we go inside them?

Maybe. Maybe we’ll find somewhere we like more, that’s not inside the walls.

Like where?

I dunno. Somewhere with a bit more room, maybe.

Dadda?

Matti.

Okay, but would there be horses there? Cos there probably isn’t room for horses inside the walls?

Sleep was coming, closing Li down. But she could feel the wire wound tight in her child. Four nights ago Matti had lost Goldie running from the fire. Yesterday she had seen the black ash of her home. Two years since the flood – nearly a third of her life. Did she even remember Robbie?

Where, Dadda? Where are we going?

Frank touched the back of Matti’s head and she burrowed in against him, away from Li.

Go to sleep now. We’re going to go to the best place we can find.

Makecamp

Li woke like she was climbing out of a hole. Cold. Something pressing on her eyes. She tried to open them but the dark knuckled in under her lids and she squeezed them shut again. Something clothy and claggy inside her head, every thought was like lifting weight. It hurt to breathe and there was pain or the memory of pain at the surface of her skin. A sharp antiseptic smell. Underneath it, sweat, dust, dank concrete. No sounds from makecamp, no voices, but she wasn’t alone. She could move her hands but not her arms. Fear arrived too slowly. Matti, she thought.

A woman said, She’s awake.

People breathed around her, bad air and unwashed bodies. She listened for lighter breath, a faster heartbeat, for anything childlike. There was something she needed to remember.

It’s okay, you’re safe. The woman turned away and spoke to someone else. Get Rich.

Her voice was familiar but Li couldn’t do the work of placing it. She was sinking back down in the hole, her head filling up with glue.

Rolling a six is the best, Matti said.

Yeah? Li was half listening. The burn had gone out of the sun and the highway to Valiant was soft and warm. Their best walking hours ahead of them. What does a six get you?

Well, two things. You can add or take away six points from your total points, depending how close you are to winning. And a truck stops and gives you a lift.

How far?

It depends.

She clawed up and out again, got clear. She was lying on a hard surface. There was a delay between her and the pain, between her and thought. Her arms were tied, she couldn’t lift them. Something was wrong with her hands and her face. Why couldn’t she open her eyes? People were talking but no one talked to her. No one told her what she needed to remember.

Matti, she said, and her voice was blurry in her own ears.

There was a low whistle, a little way off. Sudden quiet movement around her, then a different, waiting quiet. She flinched as a hand came down over her mouth, but lightly, briefly.

The woman said, Shhh, up close, and Li smelled her fear.

Then a man called, We’re good. It’s Rich.

The sound of a metal shutter being wrenched up. The man spoke quickly to someone else and the shutter came down again.

There were no shutters in makecamp, no one would waste the metal. She was somewhere else. Somewhere closed in but big enough to make echoes. Footsteps on the concrete, getting louder. She tried to make her muscles work, to get ready.

The woman said, She’s in and out but she’s awake. Then, to Li, You want to sit up?

Her first try brought on cold sweat and a rush of nausea. The woman steadied her while it passed. Take it easy, you’re pretty drugged.

She tried again and sat up slowly.

I’m Safia, from the ready shop. You remember me? The woman was untying something at Li’s waist. We had to do this to stop you from scratching.

Li felt her arms come free of her body. When she started to speak she coughed and kept coughing until the woman held a bottle to her mouth and she resisted and then swallowed water and worked to get her breathing under control. Pushed the bottle away and discovered each of her hands was bound with cloth. The padding made her clumsy and her skin felt raw under the fabric. She touched her bandaged hands to her eyes; they were bandaged too, and the side of her face and neck. Pain pushing up through whatever drugs they’d given her.

Matti, she said, her tongue thick and slow. Matti?

No answer. Her arms went wide. Where is she? Tell me where she is. She lurched forward in the dark, fighting nausea, reaching to drag Matti in out of empty space.

Your daughter’s not here, Safia said. We haven’t seen her since they cleared makecamp.

Li stopped moving. Everything stopped. When?

Two days ago.

Two days. Black noise came rushing in but she clenched her fists and the pain brought her back. What happened?

You don’t remember?

She was trying. Remembered Matti saying, Don’t go tonight. She remembered smoke. Running till she couldn’t breathe or see.

Safia filled in the gaps. XB Force and loud hailers and dogs. Batons, studded gloves. Tear gas. Saltwater cannons. What had