Page 42 of All Your Days
He still insists on walking next to me, even though I know for a fact that his feet are torn to shreds with blisters. He refuses to get on Adeeko. He hasn’t said a fucking word. Hasn’t even called out the critters we’ve passed. I tell myself I’m happy for the peace so I can focus on getting us safely to the first bore.
But I miss it. And really, it would have been helpful if he called out about the fucking snake before I almost stomped on the fucking thing.
Focusing on the road, a familiar tree and disturbance in the track to the east has me whistling for everyone to stop.
“Bore ahead.” I tell them, pointing at the barely noticeable second track forking off our current path. “What do we reckon about a detour?”
Cale's camel side steps under him and he leans down to scratch the beast's neck.
“What’ll it cost us?” He asks.
“‘Bout an extra night? The hills we saw are through there. The road isn’t as well travelled, but we can camp there no problem.”
“WillBlue Creek be able to find us there, though?” Eli asks quietly. There is a wobble in his voice that makes my gut ache. I want to pull him into my arms and promise him that everything’s going to be okay. But that’s not my place. Ichosefor it to not be my place.
“They won’t be through here. You don’t have anything to worry about with them.” I try to reassure him the best I can, chancing a glance down at him. The scarf once again wrapped around his face wobbles as he no doubt chews his lip. His big brown eyes flick up to mine, but dart away again like a scared rabbit.
“How d’you know that, though?” Malcolm asks, being really fucking unhelpful. “I mean, they were pretty pissed at you.”
“Doesn’t matter how pissed they were at me.” I sigh, lifting my hat to scratch at my scalp. The old fur felt hat is handy but makes my head sweaty as shit. “They were just pissed. They probably hadn’t even stopped drinking, so I don’t reckon they’ll even remember the tiff. And honestly, Blue Creek can’t afford to hold a grudge every time they start a fight. They might control the station and have a loose leash from the Union, but their boss is gonna get real angry if no one wants to do business with them because his crew has caused problems at the outpost. It’s not the first time they’ve kicked up shit and it won’t be the last.”
I make sure to look everyone in the eyes to get my point across. When they grumble in agreement I’m grateful. I’m too wrecked to hold their hand through the complicated social structure of the outpost and life outside The Facility.
“Right, good. Can we go now? Detour or straight home?”
I knew the detour was going to be a winner. Lou’s words about this possibly being the only time they may get to see the world outside the compound were true. Everyone jumped on the chance to see something other than scrub flat dirt. The bore is only a short ways up the second track so we stop by it for a quick lunch and head straight on.
The landscape gets a little less flat the further down the track we go, and it slows down our pace. But that means by the time we reach the valley between the multicoloured hills the sun hassunk low enough to light our campsite up in a beautiful pinky-orange light.
Even Cale, Malcolm, and Ryan are interested enough to stop messing around as we unpack the trailer with our kit for the night. The sun is half behind our nearest hill, the shadows casting long across our camp.
“I don’t rightly much get along with the preacher man.” Lou’s voice breaks through our silent moment. “But I think this is what he’s talkin’ ‘bout.”
Watching Eli spin in slow circles, like he’s trying to paint the scene into his mind, the fantastic light making him seem like some spirit from another world, I definitely agree with Lou. But I keep my opinion to myself.
For a grunt, Eli hasn’t exactly been helpful in setting up the camp. Kind of the opposite, really. Not that I mind one second of it. Tonight he’s even less help, constantly distracted watching the colours of mineral deposit streaks in the white and red hill either side of us change with the sunset. When he leaves us entirely to try to hand feed a gecko peeking out the spikey grass leftover jerky, Lou and I come to a silent agreement to let him go.
It’s quicker without him anyway, and when I set up the tents for the night, I can feel Eli’s eyes hot on my back. Sweat beads on my neck, both from the last of the heat slowly dying with the sunlight and from the indecision holding me up.
Do I keep him close and spend a sleepless night staring holes through the fabric of the tent? Or do I put him on the other side of the camp, far out of reach?
Who the fuck am I kidding? I hammer his tent pegs in place with more force than strictly necessary, keeping him between the water tank and my tent, with a good few extra paces between us and the others.
When we get back, then I’ll give him the space we both need. Until then, keeping him safe is more important. And right nowmy gut is telling me that this is where his tent goes. I didn’t get this far by not listening to my gut. So it’s my own damn fault when I get no sleep doing exactly what I thought I would, staring in the direction of his cot, trying to forget how it felt to have him in my arms while we slept.
Our second day on the road we’re woken by the sounds of birds screeching as the sun rises. None of us are happy as we crawl out of our tents. It only gets worse from there.
“Mother fucker!”Ryan curses, kicking the wheel of the water wagon where he’s meant to be refilling the billy can so we can have our tea.
“What’s wrong?” Lou hobbles over, the frosty morning making him stiff.
“Fuckin’ thing is leakin’. Look!”
We all rush over to check where Ryan is aggressively pointing.
“How the fuck did you not notice? Fuckin’useless!” Ryan spits at Eli.
Sure enough, there is a slow but steady trickle coming from the side of the tank. It clings to the barrel and down the leg all the way down to the now muddy stream that flows directly under Eli’s tent. The barrel must’ve been pinged by a stone or something on our way into the valley, the crack getting worse during the night.
