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

south-west, Sumud’s XB reared up unbroken in a great curving greyness. To the east, and further away, was the wall around New Flinders, but something was wrong with it. In places, the top of the wave dipped and jagged.

Rich said, Can you walk a bit?

She nodded, without taking her eyes off that distant breach.

I reckon I’ve got us a ride.

She turned back to face him, saw that he had a backpack on, and something rolled up in canvas. He said, Let’s go before some other bastard nicks it.

It was another four-wheel drive, lying on its side about two hundred metres from where the outer fence had been. The keys were still in the ignition, engine off.

Rich crawled in through the boot to pull up the handbrake and put it in gear. He crouched over the driver briefly and then called out that his neck was broken. Li checked for fuel leaks and then cleared and levelled the ground alongside as best she could. They worked easily together, not talking much, keeping a lookout for dogs. Rich found a bent Serkel sign and dug a small hole under the side of the roof and two bigger ones under the wheels nearest to the ground. Then they levered the vehicle up with a fence post on a slab of concrete until it started to tip away from them. It bounced, landing on all four wheels, but it stayed in one piece.

He chocked the wheels and then went into his pack for first-aid supplies and cleaned and covered the cut on his face that was bleeding freely now. Li let the engine settle while she checked the radiator, mounts, fan belt, steer pumps, alternator, everything she could think of that might have sustained damage. The batteries were sealed – no sign of rupture. No leaks or kinks in the fuel tank or fuel lines. The glow plugs on the driver’s side had a bit of oil on them but there was still plenty in the pan. As far as she could tell, the engine was sound. She felt a little bit of hope starting but she didn’t get carried away. It had hit the ground pretty hard.

There was a tarp caught under a fence not far away. Rich dragged it clear and brought it back while she took the plugs out and wiped them down on her clothes. Then they covered the engine and Rich got out of the way before she cranked it to blow any residue out of the cylinders. Put the plugs back in. Checked the tyres and the suspension. There wasn’t much more she could do.

When they pulled the driver out they found a twelve-gauge double-barrelled shotgun wedged against the door. He was wearing a twenty-loop belt loaded with shells and he had a working phone in his jacket.

The engine ran rough and smoky for a few minutes and then smoothed out. Li couldn’t believe their luck. She unstrapped her knee crutch and put it on the back seat, climbed in beside Rich. Rich, who’d had no reason to do anything for her. Then she looked up and saw a woman walking towards them. She was swaying on her feet but she moved like she didn’t have to worry about dogs or anything else. Rich took the gun and got out and went around to the front of the four-wheel drive. Management, Li realised. She hadn’t seen anyone dressed like this woman in a long time – tailored black pants, silk shirt, torn suit jacket. Blood was dripping down one arm.

I’m going to ask you to hand over the vehicle, she said.

Rich was still but his hand on the gun was shaking.

That’s Company property. You need to go back to your area. She waved a hand towards the wreck of Transit. Procedures will be put in place.

Li couldn’t see his face, only the woman’s face as she stepped back, fear moving in even before he raised the shotgun. Roared at her.

Fuck off and die, you murderous bitch.

As they pulled away, Li saw the Company woman staring past them at the wreck of Transit and then back at the wreck of the complex. She turned in a full circle and then sat down slowly.

They drove to the highway and kept driving. Goodbye, Ange, Li thought. She felt it come and let it come, a grief and remorse that was like drowning. She wouldn’t trade it, would never go back to that dead waiting. Behind her, Transit was finished. It was what it had always been.

The range

Rich drove east and Li didn’t ask where they were going. It was enough to be back on the highway, to be moving again. They drove in the howler’s wake, through wrecked country where nothing remained in its place but the road. No fence. The tussock and shrubs had been uprooted and thrown down again – sometimes the rubbish and dirt was heaped so thick on the highway that they had to drive around it. Sometimes there were bodies too, people who must have been walking or camped by the highway when the howler came through. Rich said there weren’t more bodies because there were no towns around here for people to leave. Everything from here to the range was military.

She watched him, side-on. His shoulders were loose and his eyes on the road were calm, but the shake in his right hand came and went. His anger was an unknown quantity to set against what he had given her back. He hadn’t needed to get her out, didn’t need her now.

The phone’s battery was half charged and there was a signal. No passcode. She laid it on her lap and stared at it like it might disappear if she looked away.

Rich glanced at the grey wall of New Flinders rushing past. We should have reception for a while, he said.

She dialled, entered her status number, language selection, worked her