Crash III: There's No Place Like Home Page 2

  The red, shiny packet rustled as he held it. His eyes continued watering. “Share? They’re all mine.”

  “What the fuck? You’re lucky I saved any for you.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Laughing, the girl sighed. “You find that approach works often, do you? I should sell you to a gang of nonces, you know.”

  When Michael didn’t reply, she laughed again. “Besides, you’re too young to swear.”

  Looking him up and down, she shrugged. “What are you, eight or something?”

  “No, I’m ten. Nearly eleven.”

  “Woo, check you out.”

  Michael sat up and ground his jaw. “Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I don’t trust or like you. You just robbed me, so I don’t care what you think.”

  When he turned and saw a coat rolled up on the ground, some of his rage subsided. “Is… um… Is that yours?”

  A dark scowl sat on her face as she leaned down and snatched the coat away. “Listen to me, Nearly Eleven—”

  “Michael.”

  After rolling her eyes, she continued. “Listen to me, Nearly Eleven, I was hot, that’s why I gave you my coat.”

  Michael noticed the gooseflesh on her exposed arms and the steam that came from her mouth, so he didn’t respond. She couldn’t possibly be hot in this weather.

  “Okay?” she snapped.

  Michael nodded. His stomach rumbled and he looked down at the cookies in his hand. When he slid the black, plastic tray out, he said, “There’s only two left in here.”

  “That’s your half.”

  Another check of the wrapper and he looked up at her. “But there were six in the packet to start with.”

  “You’re lucky you got anything, Nearly Eleven. You should consider yourself fortunate. I could have taken everything and left you for dead.”

  “But why don’t I have three?”

  “You dropped one.”

  After a quick look around, Michael looked back up at the girl. “So where’s the dropped one?”

  “I ate it.”

  “So you had four? You’re a fucking arsehole.”

  The girl gripped the front of his coat and tugged. His head snapped back. The sweet smell of cookies rode her breath when she leaned into his face. “Listen, Nearly Eleven, I’m much nicer than a lot of people out here. You keep giving me shit, and I’m going to leave you on your own again.”

  “I was fine on my own.”

  While pointing at the park, the girl laughed. “Hiding in the fucking bush? Walking down the middle of the road?”

  “How long have you been following me?”

  “Long enough to know you ain’t fine on your own; you’re a fucking liability, in fact.”

  “I was only walking down the road because there was nowhere else to go.”

  “Because you didn’t find anywhere else to go; I’m surprised you’re not dead already.”

  Michael didn’t reply.

  “What are you, a rich kid or something?”

  A hot flush spread over Michael’s cheeks, and he looked in the other direction. Not this again. The posh jokes had grown tiresome at school—especially when things turned nasty.

  Watching him through narrowed eyes, the girl smiled again. “Oh you are, aren’t you? This world must be hard for you then.”

  The burn of tears stung his eyes again, and a lump swelled his throat. “I’ve lost my mum, dad, and sister; that would be hard for anyone.”

  “Jesus, Bambi, parents die. Get over it.”

  Hot grief rushed down his cheeks and his jaw fell loose. “I can’t believe you just said that. I’ve lost my entire family. I went to my auntie’s house and she was gone too… I’ve got no one.”

  “You need to toughen up, kid.”

  Michael’s bottom lip trembled. “I’m just so scared.”

  The girl sighed, dropped down, and gave him a hug.

  The unexpected warmth of her embrace made Michael cry harder than ever. He missed his mum.

  After a few seconds, she pulled away and cleared her throat. “You need to toughen up. Now isn’t the time to be grieving for what’s lost. We have too much to do to dwell on the past. You need to keep your wits about you in this world.”

  “But… I saw my dad die… I watched someone kill him.”

  A confused frown crushed her face. “I’ve got enough of my own shit. I don’t need yours too, okay?”

  Michael wiped his running nose and said nothing.

  “We need to think about what’s ahead of us.” She then offered him her hand. “My name’s Lola. Lola Jackson.”

  “Michael. Michael Power.”

  Snorting a laugh, Lola raised an eyebrow. “Mike Power? You sound like a porn star.” She shook her head. “I can’t call you that. I’ll have to stick with Nearly Eleven. That okay with you?”

  Did he have a choice?

  “So, Nearly Eleven, where are you headed?”

  “Anywhere. I just want to find somewhere safe… somewhere to call home.”

  Although she looked like she wanted to laugh at him again, she refrained. “The illusion of safety has well and truly gone now. We never had safety before; it was a fear of punishment that kept society in check. Now that’s gone and we have nothing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t worry about it; you just need to let go of the idea that you’ll find safety. No place is home, and if you settle for too long anywhere in this new world, you die.”

  Before he could reply, Lola looked up at the sky and said, “Anyway, the best time to travel is at night. It’s getting light, so we need to find somewhere to hide for the day.”

  Shelter

  Michael, still soaked from lying on the grass, followed Lola as the sky grew lighter. The blue tinge of morning permeated the darkness. He had only eaten one of the cookies and held tightly to the packet containing the other one. It made sense to save it for later, but his body seemed to have other ideas. His stomach pulled toward his spine as if it would start eating itself if he didn’t hand over the goods.

  As he slid the plastic tray from the wrapper, a loud rustling sounded out.

  When Lola spun around and glared at him, Michael froze.

  Without saying a word, she turned and moved off again. Michael followed, sliding the cookie tray out some more.

  She stopped again, raised her eyebrows, and planted her hands firmly on her hips. “Can you make any more fucking noise?”

  As he stood with the tray half out of the empty packet, Michael said, “Sorry.”

  Lola didn’t reply. Instead, she spun around and set off again.

  This time, Michael upended the packet and let the cookie slide down out of the tray. He put it into his mouth whole and bit down. The anticipated crunch never came. The cookie was as stale as the first one.

  When Michael dropped the packet onto the pavement, the wind caught it and dragged it along the ground with a skittering sound.

  Turning on him yet again, Lola threw her arms wide. “What are you doing, you idiot?”

  Despite opening and closing his mouth several times, Michael couldn’t find the words.

  Lola pointed down at the rubbish on the ground. “Why are you dropping that there?”

  Michael shrugged. “There’s rubbish everywhere. What does it matter?”

  Lola stormed over to him and picked the wrapper up. “‘What does it matter’? First, you make so much fucking noise that anyone within a square mile can hear us, and then you drop the wrapper in the middle of the street. Look at the rubbish around us.”

  After doing as instructed, Michael looked back at her.

  “It looks like it's been there for months, right?”

  Time had bleached the colors on the older packets. “I suppose so.”

  Lola held the empty packet of cookies up. “And does this?”

  Instead of replying, Michael sighed and looked at the ground.

  “Exactly!” Lola said. “This tells anyone
who’s looking that there are people around and they have food.” Lola pointed at a bench on the side of the road. “You might as well go and sit over there and wait for someone to come along and murder you… or worse!”

  The warehouse dominated his thoughts—the other boys, the smell, the cries. When he regained his focus, Michael watched Lola march to the overflowing bin next to the bench and stuff the wrapper into it. Without another look at him, she marched off again.

  ***

  The pair walked in silence. Michael held back far enough so she couldn’t shout at him again. Anyone could have made the mistake of dropping litter. She didn’t need to go so nuts on him.

  Morning had well and truly settled in and only the slightest trace of night still hung in the air as a slight haze. It used to be exciting to stay awake all night. Now, Michael hated everything about it—from the tiredness he felt in his bones to the headaches that came from not having enough rest.

  When Lola stopped in front of him, Michael hesitantly walked up beside her.

  Lola kept her attention on the sky. “Another good thing about sleeping during the day and traveling at night is it’s warmer during the day. If we’re going to be lying around doing nothing, now’s the time to be doing it.”

  “And the night keeps us hidden,” Michael said. “We can live in the shadows like Batman.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Michael shook his head and looked down. “Never mind.”

  “Anyway,” Lola said, “it’s getting light. We need to get off the streets. Where do you want to sleep?”

  Despite the choice of shops, Michael only focused on one—a video game store. “There.”

  Lola looked at the shop and then back to Michael. “You do realize that games don’t work anymore, right?”

  “That’s my point.”

  Continuing to glare at him, Lola remained silent.

  “There’s nothing worth stealing in there. It’ll be one of the safest buildings to hide in.”

  The slightest smile cracked Lola’s stern face. “Wow, that’s actually a good idea!”

  As backhanded as the compliment was, Michael took it with a smile.

  “You know, you’re not a pretty face, Michael.”

  “Wait,” Michael said. “Don’t you mean, ‘Not just a pretty face’?”

  The grin fell from Lola’s face and she shook her head, her tone dry. “Nope.”

  ***

  The crunch of broken glass popped beneath Michael’s feet as he walked through the open doorway of the video game store with Lola at his side. He looked around with his mouth hanging open. “Wow. It feels so strange to be in here with no workers around. I know that games don’t work anymore, but I sure as hell wish they did. Imagine being able to have all these games for free.”

  Lola rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  Heat flushed Michael’s cheeks. What a stupid and childish thing to say. Computer games and an unlimited supply of sweets clearly didn’t dominate her dreams like they did his.

  As they made their way to the rear of the shop, they took slow and deliberate steps. The stillness lifted the hairs on the back of Michael’s neck, and he shook. “I’ve got a bad feeling, Lola.”

  “Jesus, kid, do you ever shut up?”

  Michael opened his mouth to reply but stopped when he heard the voices of men outside the shop. Although he heard them, when he glanced over his shoulder, he couldn’t see them yet. He looked at Lola, who jabbed an urgent finger toward the back of the shop. They had to move now.

  The pair ran on tiptoes down the aisle to the counter at the end. A section of the countertop had been lifted and gave them access to the door in the back wall.

  As the men’s voices grew louder, Lola opened the door and slipped inside with Michael close on her heels.

  Breathing heavily, Michael watched Lola bite her bottom lip while slowly pushing the door closed. Tension lifted her shoulders as she held the handle down. Her face twisted when she let the handle up and the springs inside it creaked and groaned. She only relaxed when it finally clicked home.

  Lola then turned on Michael and spoke in hushed tones. “I thought you said it was safe in here.”

  Before Michael could reply, a loud crash echoed through the shop.

  Michael looked at Lola. “What are we going to do?”

  There was another loud crash.

  Lola scanned the storeroom as if looking for somewhere to hide.

  Another crash outside, this time closer; Michael heard his own pulse pounding in his ears. “Lola, what are we gonna do?”

  The tiny storeroom had a small desk covered in old paperwork and boxes of old consoles littered the floor. When Lola still didn’t offer any ideas, Michael pointed to a pile of PlayStation boxes in the corner. “Over there.”

  From outside the storeroom, the rattle of a shelf collapsing was followed by a rush of video game boxes sliding to the floor.

  “Quick, Lola.” Michael grabbed her cold hand and led her to the corner. After he pulled some boxes away, he pointed at the den he’d made. “Get in that hole.”

  Lola frowned at him but still didn’t move. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths.

  Putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, Michael coaxed her down and pushed her into the space he’d cleared. He then blocked her in by putting the boxes back.

  Several loud whacks pierced the air. Each one made Michael flinch. It sounded like baseball bats against the counter on the other side of the door.

  After sliding the last box into place, Michael ran across the storeroom and opened the door to a small cupboard. Half filled with packs of paper, Michael slipped in anyway and pulled the door closed. As he sat in the cramped darkness, his pulse thumped and he listened to the sounds outside.

  A second or two later, the hinges to the storeroom door creaked, and the sound of heavy boots stepped inside. Nausea ran through Michael in a hot wave.

  Michael shook as he listened to the two men walk across the room. The cupboard reeked of dust, so he pinched his nose; if he sneezed now…

  Boxes clattered and Michael jumped. Although he held his breath to listen, he didn’t hear Lola.

  The crack of a bat and the sound of splintering wood signaled the demise of the desk. Heavy footsteps walked across the room and stopped outside the cupboard.

  Michael couldn’t control his shaking body.

  “Come on, Trev,” one of the men said. “I fucking hated video games when they worked. Now, they’re even more fucking useless. This place is boring the fuck out of me. Let’s get out of here.”

  The other one, the one just inches away from Michael on the other side of the cupboard door, replied, “To catch kids, we need to think like kids. That means checking every fucking toy store, video game store, and old sweet shop in the area.”

  Why had Michael suggested this place as somewhere to hide? Could he have made a worse choice? So much for gaining Lola’s trust.

  “Well, there ain’t any here, so let’s fucking go.”

  Trev grumbled to himself for a moment.

  Despite his closeness, Michael couldn’t hear what he said.

  He then spoke louder. “Maybe we should torch the place just to give them one less place to hide.”

  The smell of smoke returned to Michael’s senses along with the image of his dad being killed in the driveway as he watched from a burning house.

  “Is torching the place really worth the hassle, Trev?”

  After a long pause, Trev offered a petulant reply. “Whatever… let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  The hinges on the storeroom door creaked again, the door clicked shut, and when he heard the crashes and bangs of the men as they left the shop, Michael heaved a heavy sigh. He leaned against the back wall of the cupboard and waited. Those men needed to be long gone before he risked stepping out.

  ***

  Michael had sat on the stacked paper for so long, his back ached. Surely the men had left for good. Pins and needles ting
led through Michael’s cramped legs. If he didn’t move soon, he’d fall out of the cupboard anyway. Michael stretched out and pushed the cupboard door open.

  The hinges released a yawning creak as the door swung out into the room. When he stepped out, his legs nearly gave way beneath him. Aches sat deep in his lower back, so Michael leaned forward to try to ease the pain.

  He then walked over to the pile of PlayStation boxes. When he pulled several away, he found Lola curled in the fetal position. She didn’t move, so he prodded her with his foot. “Lola.”

  Lifting her head, Lola looked at him, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. She'd either been sleeping or crying.

  “It’s okay; they’re gone now.”

  Lola rubbed her face, rolled out of her space, and stood up. “See what I mean?” she said. “Nowhere is safe.”

  “I’ll find somewhere safe. Somewhere I can go to bed at night and know I’m going to be able to sleep without being scared. I’ll find somewhere where the men won’t get at me.”

  Lola frowned. “What men?”

  The sounds of the warehouse filled his mind again. The cries of the older boys rang the loudest. They were the hardest to listen to. They were strong, tough lads, and the warehouse had reduced them to nothing but babies. It had reduced them all to babies. Michael stared at the floor. “It doesn’t matter.”

  When Lola dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder, Michael looked up at her.

  “I’ve been a bit on edge,” she said, “and I’ve been taking it out on you. That isn’t fair. I’m scared, but that’s not your fault.”

  Nodding, Michael let her continue.

  “Also, I froze when I needed to make a decision. You saved us back there.”

  Pride swelled in Michael’s chest, and he pushed the sadness back down.

  “That was the first and last time it will happen. I won’t freeze like that again. If for no other reason than I don’t like apologizing.”

  Michael laughed. “That was an apology?”

  Lola pointed at him and smiled despite herself. “Don’t push it, Nearly Eleven!”