Nada's Escape: Fighters' lies

26.3 Worry

After several mouthfuls of bread for lunch I gather Laura and Fern to assess what's left to be done. They take one whiff of the jerky cooking in the main room of my bungalow and gag into their hands.

Given agency over food prep, Willow has obviously decided to use my place's bigger kitchen. The oven pumps out waves of unnecessary heat, ticking faintly, but the fencers have deserted the scene of the crime, leaving a mess of unwashed trays and bowls in the sink for decoration. Josie's AWOL, probably busy with Macie or some such, but two out of three musketeers is better than nothing.

I lead them into the bedroom instead and we settle around the bed. I run through the elements of our plan, rapid fire, daring them to find the holes. There's a ton.

"How do we know Penny even wants to come?" Fern asks, wide-eyed from the bed head.

I wince, pacing the narrow strip between bed and window.

"And for that matter has anyone asked Liza if she's up for escape?" Laura asks, echoing my thoughts, though I hate to admit it. "Maybe its better? If we leave them behind?"

I nod. "We still can." They don't know about the escape plan, they don't even know the real meaning of the Young Warriors Society.

Geez, I think, maybe we are starting a cult.

But it feels wrong to give up so easily. They're not like Alex or Mildrith, worms who've made lives for themselves here. If they'd only waited another week, they'd be in on the plan and we wouldn't even be discussing this.

I sigh. No point worrying about things I can't change. Another unhappy thought rises to take its place.

"What if they catch us leaving?" I whisper, wasps of dread awakening in my gut. The pained faces of the musketeers is my only answer. I wince, following up my own thought.

"Or worse, what if we get everything right? What if we leave nothing behind and they still catch us? It's happened before."

Laura nods, "If they notice we're gone too fast, there's not a lot we can do. They could still catch us."

"Hopefully they'll all be hungover after the gala." Fern adds, trying to bring a lighter tone to the conversation.

Laura flips over on the bed to face the ceiling.

"Even so they might come after us. I hear they have people on call in Alice."

"If only we could leave them a confusing note, like: we'll be back I promise." Fern muses, picking at the pillow case. "What about a surprise camping trip? Just like the sleepover? " .

Laura looks sceptical. "Like a red herring?"

Macie nudges open the bedroom door, arms laden with boxes.

"So, good news." She hails us, shifting a cardboard box onto her hip. "We've almost set the groundwork for the sleepover tomorrow night." She winks.

"Great," I say, eyeing some Huntsmen gawking in the street outside. Great, Norgara's so busy, we now have tourists.

"We actually were just talking about another red herring we could plant."

Macie dumps the boxes on the bed, a beribboned sandal falling out of one. "I'm listening."

Fern and Laura peer into the other box like curious kittens. I turn back to the window to find there's three of them out in the Warrior Circle now, one gesturing at our bungalow.

"Well just like we're having a sleepover," I say carefully, "We could perhaps have a spontaneous desert picnic? And of course we'd leave a note sensibly explaining our absence to the council."

Macie nods, eyeing the window as well. They probably can't hear us through the glass. A human couldn't. Or maybe they can read lips, I don't know. It's worth being cautious. I'd pull the blinds, but then we can't check how far away they are.

"Yes I like that idea. Or we could write multiple conflicting letters, with varying levels of believability, so they'll be doubt about where we've gone and why... But perhaps that's too complicated."

I frown, "How would that even work?"

"Well, they'd have to be carefully timed in their release to maximise the discourse around them."

I narrow my eyes, trying to picture how we'd somehow place time sensitive envelopes around Norgara like a twisted treasure hunt.

"Hold that thought." I say. Finley's just walked into view of the window. Here to go over the maps, I guess.

"Go let Finley in." I tell Fern and she hops from the bed.

"How are Penny and Liza feeling about 'the sleepover'?" I ask, fidgeting terribly as another group of Huntsmen head down the street.

Whilst the other girls, as a part of YWS, are all on board about the escape we've so far kept it a secret from Liza and Penny, unsure how they would feel about it. I'm especially nervous about Penny, who's still enthralled to Henry despite the fact that Finley and I have broken her sweethearts oath. It's a stalling block for all my plans, a problem I cannot dissolve with logistics, stealth or strength.

"I think we're going to work on them tomorrow." Macie bounces another box on her hip and checks out the street behind me. The Huntsmen seem content to chat out there under the lamppost. I grind my teeth.

"We may just have to drag Penny along when it comes down to it." Macie whispers.

I furrow my brow, an unwelcome fog of indecision swirling through my mind. Finley pokes his head through the door and Macie gives me an apologetic wave as she exits as quickly as she came. I nod to the Huntsmen outside.

"They can't hear us, right?"

"Probably," Finley nods, "Let's use the lounge room just in case."

I reluctantly emerge back into the smoky kitchen-lounge room. Willow and Tanja are back in the kitchen, creating a great ruckus under which our clandestine conversation can continue. Good for avoiding enthralment too. Fern and Laura drag Macie's boxes over to the coffee table, sifting through secondhand dresses and shoes for the gala tomorrow.

Eyeing what's left of the fencers and musketeers a twinge of worry shoots through me. Amy's still out on her mission. I feel as though she's been gone too long, that someone's found her lugging sleeping bags around the streets.

She'll be fine. I think. She's smart and capable.

An hour and a half later I'm rubbing my temples, head aching from all the back and forth, the fussy calculations. Fern's sitting beside me with a calculator, thank god. But its been a long day already.

"Fine. We'll go north first, bypass all the towns, just in case the council get the word out to the authorities there. We camp along the route, here or here, by which time we're out of immediate danger. After that we should reach the coast in two days. "

"Give or take," Finley adds.

Everything is give or take. The condition of the roads, the weather, how tired our solo driver gets. At least we're taking an unusual direction. We don't want to be in first direction they'll look; likely south. It's faster, sure. But if we plan to get away for good, we need to be more than fast. We need to be invisible, to show up where they'll least expect us.

Laura peers over the map at the locations I'd indicated. She's only just returned from the garages, but she's trying to stay focused over a bowl of cereal.

"Two thousand square kilometres should be enough space to lose a truck in." Laura says.

"You'd think, wouldn't you?" Finley replies. "Still, I've seen the Huntsmen track an injured fey across the Nullarbor, so if we can keep them off our tails for another couple of minutes, I'd be grateful."

I nod, mulling over the problem and coming up short. My brain is out of ideas. Tired and out.

I blink at the darkness pressing itself up against the window panes. I barely ate lunch, and now its dinner-time already? I guess it'll be cereal again. If I can keep much down around the wasps of anxiety encircling my stomach.