The Real Page 10

  Now, aware of the stranger out there in the dark, Ndlela wondered for the first time exactly who it was from whom Jayden had been hiding, and wondered even more that he’d never thought to ask that question before. True, he’d been a tiny boy when their mother had brought them to the Muara, when Jayden had first taught him how to hide. He’d simply accepted Jayden’s rules as the way things were.

  “Ndlela,” said Isabeau quietly. “Could it be a woman?”

  “Hey?” He looked at her, startled.

  “It could be a woman, right?”

  “Sure. It could be anyone. Why?”

  Isabeau wrapped her arms around herself as though she were cold. “Don’t you remember what the circus people said?”

  “They said something about a woman?”

  “Yes!” Isabeau frowned impatiently at him. “Don’t you— They were making plans to shoot a woman. They were talking about lying low and all that.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Well, I know what I heard.” Isabeau looked through the scope again.

  “Okay, well, whatever. I’m gonna go down now,” said Ndlela. “We need to tell Noor about this.”

  ¤¤¤

  Noor listened quietly to Ndlela’s explanation of what he and Isabeau had seen through Jayden’s scope. She looked at the dark windows.

  “If there is somebody out there and they’re there to watch us as you say, then they know we’re in here already,” she said at last. “It’s too late to close the blinds now. That won’t fool them. But I don’t like the thought of them being able to see in.”

  Ndlela and Isabeau both agreed. They quickly closed all the shutters and the blinds and Noor checked that the door was locked.

  “Now what?” said Ndlela.

  Noor sat on the kitchen table. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a frown but her voice was calm. “We don’t need to worry too much. It’s probably just some random person on their way somewhere, but it won’t hurt to be careful. The two of you should spend tomorrow with the dike-team and not go beach combing by yourselves. And you must make double sure to keep the doors locked at all times. A few times lately I got home and the door was standing wide open.”

  Ndlela wondered if Noor really wasn’t worried or if she was trying to shield him and Isabeau. He wanted to ask her the question that had occurred to him—who exactly Jayden had been hiding from, and why—but somehow he couldn’t find a way to bring it up.

  Isabeau seemed worried and preoccupied but she didn’t argue. Instead she curled up on her bed to read. It was only when Noor had gone to bed that she spoke again.

  “Listen!” She closed her book and kept her voice low. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “What now,” said Ndlela, who’d been about to go to bed himself.

  “We’ve got to warn her, right?”

  “Warn who?”

  Isabeau stared at him in astonishment. “Warn the woman with the dog, of course. Who else?”

  Ndlela sat heavily on the foot of her bed. “Issy, what are you going on about?”

  “We know they want to shoot her, right? Those people down at the circus. You heard them.” Isabeau’s face was pale in the candlelight.

  “Even if you are right, Issy—” She opened her mouth to argue but he didn’t give her a chance to interrupt. “Okay, I’m not saying you’re wrong, just listen to me.”

  She sat back, mouth firmly closed. Ndlela could see she was spoiling for a fight, so he picked his words carefully. “Even if you heard them right and that really is some woman that they’re planning to—I don’t know—trap, or shoot, or whatever.”

  “I am right. You heard them yourself.”

  “There could be all kinds of explanations—”

  “Like what?”

  They both glanced at the curtain at Noor’s bedroom door. Then Ndlela continued in a whisper. “So say you’re right. So say that those circus people are planning a trap, they’ve lured this woman somehow and they want to shoot her. What can we do about it? You want to warn her. How? She might be dangerous. She might deserve to be shot, have you thought of that? Or she might think we are part of the trap, even if we do warn her. Or anything! If these people are planning to kill one another, we’ve got to stay as far out of it as we can.”

  Ndlela looked in vain for a sign of acquiescence. Isabeau stubbornly avoided his gaze, toying with the edge of her blanket. At last she said in a low voice, “She’s not a bad person.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “I just know it.” She looked up at him. “Didn’t you see her? With that dog. Did she seem like a bad person to you?”

  “You can’t tell just by looking at somebody, Issy. Especially not through a heat scope. I mean, we’re not even sure it is a woman!”

  “You know what I mean.”

  And, little as he’d admit to it, it was true. Ndlela thought back to that glowing image. A human figure kneeling next to a dog. His unease had faded the moment he’d seen the trusting way the dog had leaned against its human companion, but he was not going to admit that to Isabeau.

  “So— Okay, maybe we can’t talk to her,” said Isabeau earnestly. “But what about a note? We could leave her a note, a warning, explaining it all.”

  Ndlela threw his hands up in exasperation. “So we leave a note out there for her. What if the circus people find it first? What do you think they’d do if they figure out we know what their plans are? And now we’re warning— Issy, don’t you see, we just have to stay out of this! Especially if you are right and they’re out to kill somebody.”

  Isabeau hunched herself into her blankets, then turned on her side, her back towards him. He waited, but her back stayed stubbornly stiff and she said nothing more.

  At last he took the candle to his corner and started undressing for bed.

  ¤¤¤

  Isabeau to the Rescue

  The next morning Isabeau woke early. She waited until Noor had left for work before she got up, happy to see that Ndlela was still asleep. Arguing with him was a waste of time. She knew exactly what she had to do.

  Ndlela was right about the note. Apart from the fact that it might fall into the wrong hands, there would be no way for her to ensure that the woman understood the urgency of the message unless she spoke to her herself.

  And if I meet her face to face, I’ll know what kind of person she is.

  After one last look to check that Ndlela was truly asleep, Isabeau climbed the ladder and pushed the trapdoor up and to the side so that a bit of sky showed through. That way Ndlela might assume she was up there, reading in her hammock. Then she slipped out the front door.

  It was a lovely morning, cloudless, with a brisk breeze coming off the sea. Isabeau kept low on the stairs, sliding from step to step on her bottom so that nobody would see her unless they were up close. She crept along the wall, staying always in the shadows. In obedience to Jayden’s rules, she only stepped on stones and lumps of concrete, not leaving any tracks in the sand. This meant that, for a while, she had to head in the opposite direction to the one she intended.

  The circus buildings came into view, bringing back memories of the night they’d gone spying, of hiding in the stinking dark with angry voices and the nightmare flight that followed.

  She’d often wondered what it would be like to have an adventure like the ones she’d read about. How she’d behave if her courage was put to the test. Now she knew. She’d wet herself when the gunshots rang out. The shame of it scalded her even now, even though she was sure Ndlela hadn’t noticed.

  A new, traitorous little voice whispered in her head now. It told her to be sensible, to stay out of trouble, to stay safe. It told her that if she only waited long enough, the people who’d frightened her would move on and everything would be the way it was before. But Isabeau knew with a hard, hot certainty that the little voice was a liar. She wanted to do something to erase the humiliating memory of fear and weakness, of the hot wetness that had spread down her legs.

  Mamma
didn’t rescue me from a rubbish bin just to grow up to be a coward. She looked defiantly towards the circus buildings, a dark silhouette against the glinting sea.

  They don’t even know I’m out here. They don’t know that I know their plans.

  Paws scrabbled behind her and Robby appeared in a shower of sand. Isabeau groaned in exasperation. “Robby! No, man. Not again!”

  Robby smiled happily up at her, tail wagging.

  “Home, Robby! Go home. Home.” Isabeau pointed an emphatic finger at the hotel. Robby’s ears went up in comprehension and he threw himself on his back, from which position he peered up at her, anxious for approval. He looked so funny with his loose jowls and open, upside down mouth, that she couldn’t help laughing.

  “Robby. No. You can’t come with me.”

  Robby rolled the right way up and shook himself vigorously, spattering her with damp sand. Then he trotted in the direction she’d been heading.

  “Ah, sugar.” Isabeau hesitated. She didn’t want to take Robby with her but if she tried to take him back it would wake Ndlela and she’d never get away again.

  “Oh, okay. You win.” She headed for the stepping stones over the river mouth and was about to cross when she spotted Robby sniffing among the rocks. Something about his posture drew her eye. He had lost his usual playful manner and stood stiff-legged and tense. Puzzled, Isabeau went to see what he’d found.

  “What’s it, Robby?” She caught her breath. A paw print, clear and sharp in the damp sand.

  “Oh!” She crouched down. A dog print, but a dog far bigger than Robby. Could it be that woman’s dog, the one she’d seen last night? Isabeau scanned the sand and found more prints. A line of them lead up to the dune bushes.

  No human prints, though, just dog’s. But that woman might have stayed on the rocks, like I’m doing.

  Robby was already sniffing along the trail of prints, nose down, tail up, his whole body radiating purpose. After another look at the circus buildings, Isabeau followed.

  ¤¤¤

  Elke watched the dark-haired girl cycle her way up to the freeway.

  Last night Elke had gone down to the river mouth, close enough to make out that the letters on the ornate building spelt out “STON HOT L”.

  After watching the lights in the windows near the back, she was sure that this was not the place that Skyler Moraes had mentioned in her message. It wasn’t a good spot to choose, whether for a rendezvous or for an ambush. Too many ways to approach it without being seen and too many hiding places. The circus, whatever it was, must be somewhere else.

  She decided to go up to the freeway again and make her way farther up the coast, checking for any tracks leading down into the Muara, or any other signs of life.

  And what if that doesn’t work? How long am I going to waste my time hanging around in this wasteland?

  Being out here in the open, away from the Eye, made her feel as if she’d slipped out of time. Nothing seemed quite so urgent any more. It was hard to believe that Dolly was facing a hostile attempt to discredit her and that somebody had tried to frame Elke herself.

  Maybe Diesel was right. Maybe she should stop wasting time, go back and face the music. But the thing was, she’d committed herself to this plan. She had to at least find Skyler Moraes.

  I’ll walk along the coast until noon. If I haven’t spotted anything by then, I’ll turn around and work my way back.

  She packed a bit of food into her bag and hid the rest of her belongings under a particularly prickly shrub. Then she set off toward the freeway, Meisje scouting out ahead of her.

  ¤¤¤

  Ndlela knew he’d overslept the moment he woke. The sun shone strongly through the window above the couch where he lay and everything seemed unnaturally quiet. He looked across at Isabeau’s bed, which was quite obviously empty.

  “Issy?”

  He got up and glanced into Noor’s room, then up the ladder, and relaxed when he spotted the glimpse of sky through the trapdoor. Isabeau must be up in her hammock. Maybe she’d even gone up there last night. She often did sleep up there when she was upset.

  Maybe I was too harsh with her last night. Noor, he remembered, had asked them not to do any beach combing today. She’d wanted them to work with the dike team instead. That suited Ndlela. Apart from the fact that he enjoyed working on the dike, it also meant that he didn’t have get going quite so early. In fact, there was no reason why he shouldn’t go back to bed to sleep for just a little bit longer.

  No need to worry about over-sleeping, after all. Not while Isabeau was about.

  ¤¤¤

  Isabeau wasn’t sure when she began to be afraid.

  It wasn’t simply that she was alone. She’d sneaked off often in the past and liked exploring the Muara by herself. It gave an edge of adventure to the familiar landscape.

  Now, with the sun just peeping up over the horizon, she couldn’t seem to relax. Maybe it was the way Robby was so uncharacteristically serious as he followed the dog tracks across the sand. Or maybe it was just the knowledge of the unfriendly people in the circus buildings that were by now out of sight beyond the dunes.

  It felt as if somebody was following her or watching her from beyond the half-completed dike that ran parallel to her course inland. The sand was soft and she struggled to keep up with Robby. Soon he was out of sight ahead of her. He’d probably ignore her if she tried to call him back, so she stumped doggedly to the spot she’d last seen him, a gap in a half collapsed wall.

  This was farther inland than she and Ndlela usually ventured. There were more intact buildings here, some blackened with the soot of old fires. The fresh rubbish that lay scattered everywhere suggested that people had been camping here fairly recently. It was not unusual for drifters and travellers to hang out in the Muara, but they never stayed long.

  Isabeau looked at the mess with disgust, then glanced over her shoulder again. The feeling of being watched was even stronger now. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to come out here to find this stranger. Ndlela’s warnings seemed quite reasonable all of a sudden. It was dumb to get involved in something she knew so little about. All she wanted now was to find Robby and to make him come back home with her.

  But where was he?

  Isabeau looked uncertainly at the ruined houses that framed the clearing. She knew what she’d find beyond their gaping doors. Damp concrete rooms with rotting carpets, mould, and the stench of cat pee and scorched plastic. This was exactly the kind of place their mother had warned them to stay away from. Built up enough to be habitable, but collapsing slowly under the weight of years of neglect.

  A wall can fall on you, or a ceiling. Or you could step in broken glass from all that rubbish people leave lying about. Needles, too!

  “Robby!”

  Her voice sounded unnaturally loud. Where was that dog? She thought she heard a rustle farther on, beyond a wall crowned with loops of barbed wire.

  “Robby.”

  She found a gate open just enough that she could squeeze through. Beyond it was a small clearing, a paved area overshadowed by a two-storey building on one side and closed off from the beach by a wall.

  “Robby?”

  Even this half-whispered call sounded too loud. Reluctantly, Isabeau walked into the clearing.

  Then she screamed with shock as a dark shape exploded from the rubble at her feet. She stepped back, a slab of paving rocked beneath her and she overbalanced. One foot shot up in the air, the other caught and twisted as she came down so hard her breath was knocked out of her.

  For a moment she lay staring up at the sky where a black bird circled, scolding her in a rough voice.

  A crow. That’s all it was. A bloody old crow.

  Her palms stung from the concrete, her knee felt ominously numb and she’d skinned an elbow. She tried to sit up but nearly fainted with the pain that flared from her ankle. Her leg was twisted at an odd angle and her foot was trapped between the paving slabs. Tears of pain blurred her vision and she fe
lt sick.

  Can’t just lie here. Got to get up. She sat up again, careful not to move her leg too much. Her ankle looked remarkably normal. She’d expected blood or exposed bone. Her foot wasn’t even trapped by the concrete, just twisted. It might as well be trapped—moving it made her dizzy with pain.

  Isabeau closed her eyes. What now? Her ankle was twisted, possibly broken. Nobody knew where she was, not even Ndlela. He’d come looking for her eventually, but how long would it take him to find her?

  The clearing was still in shade and her body shook with shivers. The thought of waiting here in the chill was unbearable.

  I’m just going to have to move. She looked at her ankle again, gritted her teeth, and shifted a little way backwards. The pain came again. Hot and cold at the same time, but not as bad as she’d feared.

  I don’t think I can walk on it, but if I can crawl down onto the beach, Ndlela will see me.

  Isabeau prepared herself for another attempt, then paused at a sound behind her. The unmistakable click of dog nails on concrete. She smiled in relief and turned as far around as she could, her mouth framing Robby’s name.

  The space behind her was empty. No Robby came bounding into view. Isabeau stared at the hedge, conviction growing that something lurked beyond it. Something that was not Robby.

  Okay. Let’s not get all imaginative now. She dragged herself a little farther, grimacing. Every movement made her ankle throb with pain. Pulling her trouser leg up revealed an alarming sight. Her ankle was definitely swelling. It looked the wrong colour too. Working quickly before she lost her courage, she loosened her shoe laces, gritted her teeth, and pulled off the shoe.

  Then she sat for a bit, panting, waiting for the pain to subside. An experimental twist of her foot brought such a stab of pain that she quickly abandoned that idea. She took off her long-sleeved top and wrapped it as tightly as she could around her foot and ankle, tying it up with the sleeves. Now she was only wearing a thin T-shirt.

  It’ll soon be warmer. It’s going to be a hot day today. And what if nobody found her and she had to spend the night out here, all by herself? Isabeau squashed that treacherous thought. She took the water bottle from her bag and had a long drink. The fact that she’d remembered to bring water made her feel a little better, more self-sufficient and adult. As she put the bottle away, her attention was once again caught by a movement beyond the hedge.