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it too sometimes; the randomness yet perfectly timed nature of the
Raindays. We want to get out, go beyond, and today is our day. He
gives me a knowing look. We’ve been planning this for a year and the
time has come.
The children all line up to go into their next classes and we follow
suit, lagging near the back. In our bags we have a small supply of water
and our lunch. We know the bush well. We’ve had the red dirt as our
home forever and we know how to live off the Earth. As the classroom
door draws closer and the teachers walk in, we run. We run quickly
and swiftly, dodging eyes, anything that could catch us out, anything
that could give us away. As the bell tower rings, we are out of the
suburban town. Alone. We head towards the bush-land, to edge of the
town border. I look over to Xander, who seems different, more aware,
scared and stiff. Walking into the shade he looks over at me, and I
know what he’s thinking. This was a stupid idea.
‘I need to know what’s out there.’
His lips turn down, his eyes tracing the ground. ‘What are we
going to do when we get there? If there are people out there they
aren’t going to just accept us with open arms and tell us the story of
why we are really here.’ He’s right.
‘I’m going, you can go back.’ It is my final effort to get him to
continue.
‘You’ll die without me.’ He jokes, but as usual, he’s probably right.
I can see the town boundary. It is rusted, twisted remains of a
fence that was once used to keep us in or something else out. My
speed picks up and Xander lags behind. Touching the hot rusted
metal feels forbidden, exciting, like the time we snuck out and drank
the liquor from the back of the town bar. I keep walking, tripping on
the upturned edge of a metal sign with strange unseen symbols.
Xander can’t comprehend them either, saying that it must be a
warning from the epidemic.
In the distance I can make out two dim lights and a green light
periodically flashing. I grab Xander’s hand and pull him in the
direction of the lights. The red dust creates a haze infant of us that is
hard to see through.
Then I hear it. The car engine. I run closer, with my arm out
stretched in front of me; in an aim to shield my eyes from the dust. It
is a building, newer than the ones in our town. It is bland and cold
looking. Built from concrete and glass. It stands tall, next to the live
Rain
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