the cap.
‘We’ll need to be behind the wall,’ I
whispered. ‘And we need a trail of petrol to it.’ He nodded and
pulled off his T-shirt, pushing it into the tank to soak it. Then
he sat the cap back on the tank and used his shirt to lay the trail
of liquid to the wall. We only had seconds left. We could hear the
crunch of gravel under soft menacing feet, and an occasional
muttered comment. I heard one male voice and one female. The torch
flashed again, right at the corner of the drive.
Kevin’s voice breathed in my ear. ‘We need to
make sure they’re all together.’
I nodded. I’d just realised the same problem.
I could see two dark figures but I assumed we were being hunted by
the three patrolling sentries we’d seen before. Kevin confirmed it,
breathing in my ear again, ‘I saw three of them in the road’.
I nodded again, then took a deep breath and
let out a short weak moan of pain. The effect on the two soldiers
was dramatic. They turned towards us like they had antennae. I gave
a little gasp and a sob. One of the soldiers, the male, called out,
urgently, in a language I didn’t recognise, and a moment later the
third soldier came through the line of trees and joined the first
two. They talked for a moment, gesturing in our direction. They
must have known by then that we weren’t armed: we would have surely
let off a few shots by now if we had been. They spread out a little
though, and came walking slowly towards us. I waited and waited,
till they were about three metres from the mower. The small squat
dark shape sat there, as if demanding that they notice it. For the
first time I saw their faces; then I struck the match.
It didn’t light.
My hand, which had been very steady till then,
got the shakes. I thought, ‘We’re about to die, just because I
couldn’t light a match’. It seemed unfair, almost ridiculous. I
tried again, but was shaking too much. The soldiers were almost
past the mower. Kevin grabbed my wrist. ‘Do it.’ he mouthed
fiercely in my ear. The soldiers seemed to have heard Kevin, from
the way their eager faces turned in our direction again. I struck
the match for the third time, almost sure that there wouldn’t be
enough sulphur left to ignite. But it lit, making a harsh little
noise, and I threw it to the ground. I threw it too fast; I don’t
know how it didn’t go out. It should have, and it almost did For a
moment it died to a small dot of light and again I thought ‘We’re
dead, and it’s all my fault’. Then the petrol caught, with a quiet
quick whoosh.
The flames ran along the line of petrol in
fits and starts, like a stuttering snake, but very fast. The
soldiers saw it, of course. They turned, looked, seemed to flinch.
But in their surprise they were too slow to move, just as I would
have been. One lifted an arm, as if to point. Another leaned
backwards, almost in slow motion. That’s the last image I have of
them, because then Kevin pulled me back, behind the brick wall, and
an instant later the mower became an exploding bomb. The night
seemed to erupt. The wall swayed and shook, and then settled again.
A small orange fireball ripped up into the darkness, with little
tracer bullets of fire shooting away from it. The noise was shrill
and loud and frightening. It hurt my ears. I could see bits of
shrapnel hurtling into the trees and I heard and felt a number of
bits thud into the wall behind which we were hiding. Then Kevin was
tugging at me, saying, ‘Run, run’.
At the same time the screams began from the
other side of the wall.
We ran through the fruit trees and down the
slope at an angle, past the chook shed, reaching Mrs Alexander’s
front fence at the corner where it met the next property. The
screams behind us were ripping the night apart. I hoped that the
faster and further we ran the quicker the screams would fade, but
that didn’t seem to be happening. I didn’t know if I was hearing
them only with my ears or in my mind as well.
‘There’s
‘We’ll need to be behind the wall,’ I
whispered. ‘And we need a trail of petrol to it.’ He nodded and
pulled off his T-shirt, pushing it into the tank to soak it. Then
he sat the cap back on the tank and used his shirt to lay the trail
of liquid to the wall. We only had seconds left. We could hear the
crunch of gravel under soft menacing feet, and an occasional
muttered comment. I heard one male voice and one female. The torch
flashed again, right at the corner of the drive.
Kevin’s voice breathed in my ear. ‘We need to
make sure they’re all together.’
I nodded. I’d just realised the same problem.
I could see two dark figures but I assumed we were being hunted by
the three patrolling sentries we’d seen before. Kevin confirmed it,
breathing in my ear again, ‘I saw three of them in the road’.
I nodded again, then took a deep breath and
let out a short weak moan of pain. The effect on the two soldiers
was dramatic. They turned towards us like they had antennae. I gave
a little gasp and a sob. One of the soldiers, the male, called out,
urgently, in a language I didn’t recognise, and a moment later the
third soldier came through the line of trees and joined the first
two. They talked for a moment, gesturing in our direction. They
must have known by then that we weren’t armed: we would have surely
let off a few shots by now if we had been. They spread out a little
though, and came walking slowly towards us. I waited and waited,
till they were about three metres from the mower. The small squat
dark shape sat there, as if demanding that they notice it. For the
first time I saw their faces; then I struck the match.
It didn’t light.
My hand, which had been very steady till then,
got the shakes. I thought, ‘We’re about to die, just because I
couldn’t light a match’. It seemed unfair, almost ridiculous. I
tried again, but was shaking too much. The soldiers were almost
past the mower. Kevin grabbed my wrist. ‘Do it.’ he mouthed
fiercely in my ear. The soldiers seemed to have heard Kevin, from
the way their eager faces turned in our direction again. I struck
the match for the third time, almost sure that there wouldn’t be
enough sulphur left to ignite. But it lit, making a harsh little
noise, and I threw it to the ground. I threw it too fast; I don’t
know how it didn’t go out. It should have, and it almost did For a
moment it died to a small dot of light and again I thought ‘We’re
dead, and it’s all my fault’. Then the petrol caught, with a quiet
quick whoosh.
The flames ran along the line of petrol in
fits and starts, like a stuttering snake, but very fast. The
soldiers saw it, of course. They turned, looked, seemed to flinch.
But in their surprise they were too slow to move, just as I would
have been. One lifted an arm, as if to point. Another leaned
backwards, almost in slow motion. That’s the last image I have of
them, because then Kevin pulled me back, behind the brick wall, and
an instant later the mower became an exploding bomb. The night
seemed to erupt. The wall swayed and shook, and then settled again.
A small orange fireball ripped up into the darkness, with little
tracer bullets of fire shooting away from it. The noise was shrill
and loud and frightening. It hurt my ears. I could see bits of
shrapnel hurtling into the trees and I heard and felt a number of
bits thud into the wall behind which we were hiding. Then Kevin was
tugging at me, saying, ‘Run, run’.
At the same time the screams began from the
other side of the wall.
We ran through the fruit trees and down the
slope at an angle, past the chook shed, reaching Mrs Alexander’s
front fence at the corner where it met the next property. The
screams behind us were ripping the night apart. I hoped that the
faster and further we ran the quicker the screams would fade, but
that didn’t seem to be happening. I didn’t know if I was hearing
them only with my ears or in my mind as well.
‘There’s
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