Migration (eBook)

Leaves rustled as our people cautiously made their way down the bush-clad hill in the darkness. We waited for them in the valley below, beside the doorway we had created. It was an arc of swirling energy in greens, yellows, pinks and blues, the colours dissolving and reforming, coiling around each other like the iridescent shades of a pāua shell.

‘Come on, come on!’ Ishi was hopping from foot to foot in anticipation.

Next to him, Kaela leaned against a tree, arms wrapped tight around her belly. She inhaled, exhaled, her face taut, eyes closed. I hoped to hell that the baby would be alright.

His ear clamped against his walkie-talkie, Faraka was counting down: ‘Five, four …’

‘Yes …’ Ishi’s eyes sparkled and he looked as excited as if it was his birthday.

‘Three, two, one.’

An explosion ripped through the air, and a column of red fire from the distant camp snaked up, just discernible over the trees. There were muffled shouts and screams, and Ishi gave a whoop of jubilation.

‘I told you! The T’sen will be so busy sorting that out, they won’t have any idea half the camp has gone.’

‘Barracks Two almost down the hill; Three and Four on their way,’ said Faraka. He listened to the crackle of the walkie-talkie. ‘The guards are freaking out. They think we’re under attack.’

People began to emerge from the valley treeline. All were undernourished and dirty with tangled hair, and dressed in an assortment of clothing that just a few years ago would have been earmarked as rags. Some were carrying children. Others had
meagre belongings tucked into thin grey blankets, and some
had nothing at all.

One little girl was crying thick braying sobs that cut through the stillness of the night, resisting all her mother’s attempts to keep her quiet. Ishi handed her a crust he’d hoarded from his evening ration, and she immediately quietened, hurriedly stuffing the coarse bread in her mouth for fear someone would take it from her.

Erawa stepped forwards to greet them, leaning on the walking stick that Koru had polished and carved for her. She’d had to use it ever since one of the soldiers had broken her femur for being late for work detail. Erawa’s leg had never healed right, but she didn’t care. She’d always said that she was born for something better than dancing. She was right.

‘This is our chance,’ she said to the silent crowd assembling before her. ‘Our only chance to give our children a future worth living. I’ll be on the other side to welcome you home.’

Nobody clapped, but their faces lit up with hope. It was an emotion I hadn’t seen on anyone since the T’sen had arrived.

Erawa pushed the black hood back from my face and kissed me on the cheek. ‘You’ve done so, so well, Untah. You’ve
saved us.’

‘We all did it. All six of us.’

‘But you found the way. Are you sure you don’t want to go through first?’

I laughed. ‘For the last time: you won the coin toss fair and square.’

She grinned. We all knew she’d cheated.

‘Just go,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you once everyone’s through.’

‘I’ll be waiting for you.’ Erawa waved at Ishi and Faraka, and blew Kaela a kiss. Then she stepped into the arc of swirling colours and vanished.

People lined up, quickly and easily – they’d had many years of practice trudging around the fields in pointless formation. One by one, they followed her through the colours.

The woman with the child gazed at the swirling mass of energy and then at me. ‘Will it work?’

‘I think so.’

‘Do you know what?’ Her smile was hesitant from disuse but still bright. ‘I don’t even care. Fuck the T’sen.’

She stepped into the energy mass. The colours swallowed her up.

‘Come on,’ said Ishi, urging those in line to go through faster. ‘We don’t have much time.’

‘How long will it last?’ asked Kaela. She sounded as though she was speaking through gritted teeth, and even though the night was cool, she had broken out into a sweat.

‘Ten minutes if it doesn’t conk out,’ I replied.

The doorway was still holding, the colours were strong and it hadn’t diminished in size at all, but I didn’t know how long that would last. How could I know? It was a measure of how desperate we were that the camp had bothered to go along with this mad experiment at all. If the T’sen caught us, we’d be dead. On the other hand, if we stayed we’d be dead too. The difference was that we didn’t want to die on their terms. It was as simple as that.

I bent to check on the machine that was supplying the energy
to keep the doorway open. On top of the battered metal casing,
Koru had drawn a picture of a bird encased in a hexagon: a sign that the six of us – Ishi, Kaela, Faraka, Koru, Erawa and I – were all
going to fly away from here. I didn’t know how lucky his symbol would be, but the machine was still calibrated correctly, still humming along. Hopefully it would hold together long enough to
get us though. Hopefully.

Faraka’s walkie-talkie crackled again, and he listened before reporting breathlessly, ‘Seven and Eight have been locked down.’

Ishi went pale. ‘No.’

Ishi’s mother and sister were in Barracks Eight. He glanced wildly up at the trees on the hill as though he was about to bolt, and I grabbed him.

‘They knew the risks. If you go up there, you’ll screw it up for everyone. They’ll understand.’

Ishi looked as though he was about to cry. ‘I’ll never see them again.’

‘You’ll never see them working like slaves, starving and dying,’ I told him. ‘Be glad of that.’

He nodded, and wiped a hand across his eyes before hugging me close. ‘I’m going to go through now.’

‘Yes. Erawa will need you.’

Ishi glanced over at Kaela, who had slumped back against the tree.

I shook my head. ‘She won’t come until Koru does.’

Ishi went to her anyway and spoke to her, urgent and low. Kaela shook her head and when he tried to urge her, she pushed him away. Gently, he took her by the arm and walked her slowly over to me.

‘You stay by me,’ I said to her, and she nodded.

‘I’ll see you soon.’ Ishi took the swirling colours at a running jump.

‘That’s Barracks Two gone, half of Three – and here comes Four now,’ reported Faraka.

Another explosion sounded, and everyone whipped their heads around. Another plume of fire lit up the sky, and there were more distant screams.

‘It’s too early; that’s not right,’ muttered Faraka. ‘What was that?’ he barked into the walkie-talkie. ‘Koru? Koru!’

Kaela snatched the walkie-talkie from him. ‘Sweetheart, please answer me.’ She spun towards me, her eyes wide and scared. ‘He’s not there.’

Faraka took back the walkie-talkie, tried again. ‘Koru?’

‘Hurry up!’ I roared, urging the people through faster: three, four at a time. Barracks Three was almost done: nearly a hundred people in just over seven minutes. I checked the countdown timer on the machine. Just six minutes to go. Faraka exchanged a
look of resolve with me. If we were found out, we’d cut the machine off, destroy the doorway, be glad we’d helped at least a few escape … and then face our execution.

Kaela gave a gasp, and there was a splatter.

‘My water just broke.’ She looked scared but excited too.

‘Oh, Kaela,’ Faraka cried. ‘You have to go through.’

‘I want to wait for Koru.’

‘You have to do what’s right for you and the baby,’ I said. ‘Koru would kill us if you went into full labour here.’

‘But I can’t go without him!’ she cried, even as Faraka firmly led her to the doorway.

‘Take her through,’ he said to the young woman next in line. The woman nodded and took Kaela’s hand.

‘Come with me please, Faraka,’ Kaela pleaded.

‘I have to wait for Untah. I’ll see you soon. Go on. You’re holding everyone up.’

Kaela cast us one last glance, and then she and the young woman stepped into the void.

The walkie-talkie crackled and Faraka snatched it up. ‘Koru?’

He frowned, trying to make out the gabbling, and then his face became pale and set.

‘Do they know?’ I cried.

He nodded and beckoned at the line of people. ‘Come on!’

The urgency in his voice was unmistakable. Twenty, forty people, half of Barracks Four, went through at a run, and then a set of lights appeared at the top of the hill.

‘That’s not Five and Six?’

A clatter of gunfire from above, and a cluster of people just coming through the trees scattered, one crying out and clutching a bloodied arm.

‘Negative Five and Six,’ Faraka said. He was grabbing people and physically shoving them through now. ‘How many minutes?’

I blanched. I had been so caught up with Kaela and the
ensuing chaos, I hadn’t checked. I bent to see the timer. ‘Forty seconds.’

‘Come on, come on!’ roared Faraka. There were fewer to come now; the line was almost done. The guns were still firing; divots of earth were popping up around us. Faraka pushed one woman through just as she was hit in the back. She fell through with a scream, the blood spray swallowed up by a rainbow of colour.

A familiar figure crashed out of the trees, sprinting hard towards us.

‘Koru! You made it! Twenty seconds!’ I shouted.

‘Did Kaela go through?’ Koru yelled.

‘Yes, hurry!’

Koru made to dive into the colours, but his foot caught on a loose clod of earth and he...