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

back to camp, alive. You could patch her, she said.

Li showed her the mess of its leg, told her that letting it live would be cruel as well as stupid. When she broke its neck, Matti beat her with her fists and shouted at her, out there in the open, still not dark. Li had to slap her quiet. She crouched in the bushes, holding her still, and listened until she guessed they were safe. She could feel Matti’s outraged breathing, her strong, skinny body struggling to contain it, and she regretted the force of the slap.

Sorry, she said.

I’m not listening, Matti growled.

So Li talked to the back of her child’s head in the dusk. Told her that she had to look after them both, trade for what they needed, and teach Matti to do it for herself. That was more important than the rabbit.

You’re just saying that cos you’re a human. If you had a baby rabbit, how would you feel?

They had raised a kid who could think like this because until a few months ago she had never gone hungry.

I don’t know, she said. I don’t have a baby rabbit, I have a beansprout. And she heard the wrongness of it. The trespass.

Dad had a beansprout, Matti said. Not you.

Walking back to makecamp after dark, they were quiet. The moon lit their way patchily, betweens scuds of cloud. Li was thinking she’d been wrong to bring Matti, it had been too soon. Matti had already made her first snares, and it would be easier now Li could trade for more flexible wire. She would make her practise until it was second nature. She’d teach her to skin and gut the kill, how to cut the bladder out without contaminating the meat. How to check the heart and liver for signs of disease – their trade would be worthless if people got sick from it. Li had been a little older than Matti when Val started teaching her these things but Val had had time on his side. Matti was smart and she was quick. She already knew how to draw water out of leaves, how to make a basic still. Li would bring her out again, just not straight away.

Mum, Matti said.

This was a new thing. Since the boat. Before that she had only been Mum when Matti wanted something. Otherwise she was Li, and Frank had been Dadda and then Dad.

Mum. See the jumpers?

They were near the fence now, parallel to the highway. Li saw the headlights coming and pulled Matti down but Matti was looking at something closer – a brief flaring of torches, shapes moving in the roadside scrub on the other side of the fence. The truck was almost on them, gears shifting down as it began the uphill stretch. They stayed low and watched the jumpers swarm the road, leaping, clawing, climbing. They went for the sides, the tailgate, tried to pull themselves under the moving vehicle. Matti was still and attentive in Li’s arms. One of the figures turned to pull someone up behind them and lost their grip and fell.

I’m going for the kids, Matti whispered, because they’re faster.

The truck picked up speed and the jumpers fell back. They walked or limped into the scrub and out of sight but a few of them stayed, crouching beside bodies on the road. Li listened to them crying in the dark and held onto Matti like it was only her arms keeping her clear of the wheels.

They got back to the factory after midnight. A woman Li hadn’t seen before was on watch. They had a fire going in the alcove. Half a dozen people slept around it, huddled in blankets. Rich left her and went over to the packing crate that housed his sleeping bag.

Safia was sitting up by the fire, drinking koffee with Adam, who did salvage runs. They watched Li come.

Where’s the phone? Li asked.

Safia looked at Adam. He handed it over carefully. It was an older model, the passcode worn into the keypad, plenty of surface damage. The charging port needed replacing for a start. She took the back off, held it up to the firelight.

Adam said, Can you patch it?

She focused on Safia. Do you have my kit?

Safia produced the flat leather pouch from inside her jacket. Li took it from her, flipped it open across her lap and went through the screwdrivers, the needle-nosed pliers, the picks and hooks and fine-tipped tweezers, the fishing magnet. Everything in its place. Safia had kept this from her to show that she could.

So, can you? Adam said.

Maybe.

We took a risk helping you.

Li looked at him. He was barely out of his teens. She remembered him hanging around the ready shop with a dozen others like him, all vying for jobs from Safia.

Where are you going to charge it?

I’ve got that covered. You just need to do your job.

Can you find me another model like this? she said. Two would be better.

Broken ones. Maybe.

Broken is okay.

Safia gave Li Adam’s sleeping bag to use while he was gone. She slept uneasily. Once she woke to find Rich beside her, offering painkillers. When she woke again it was getting light and Adam was back with the parts she needed. He looked like they’d cost him but Li didn’t ask.

By the time she’d patched the phone, it was full daylight. She woke Adam and he took it and went out again. Now she had nothing to do the pain reasserted itself, and the sick tense of time passing. Then Rich and one of the others came back from the port with bottled water and food from the relief groups; bread and beans and four hard-boiled eggs. More koffee.

We’re not the only ones, he said. They reckon we’ll be all right if we stay out of the nice end of town and don’t piss anyone off. Sumud just wanted the camp gone, and if Sumud’s happy, Port’s happy.

Safia