Sean couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal. He moped about going over the confrontation with his ex wife and that fat brother. He was waiting for the police to arrive to take him away. When they didn't he suspected that his ex wife and neighbours didn't want the newly formed police arm, the 'Pole Cops', involved. He smiled grimly, they didn't want to have this place boarded up or demolished, or handed to some cop's mate. Nor did they want the food taken away. That didn't leave them much option then, either they would subjugate him, or outright kill him.
He went for a walk, he was reluctant to leave the house but a saunter around the hills was a way of seeing things differently. He headed up through the Mountain Ash to the television masts, then around the track where the view of the city was entire. You could see the bay, and across that a line of hills, was there a man on that hill battling with the past, and more excited about a doomsday future? He sat on a smooth rock, it had been polished by people sitting on it, brushing past it over the years, the thousands of years, aboriginal people had gathered on these rocks. His breathing slowed, and he escaped the anxiety of the day. Peace he thought, I have found peace. It was broken, by three strangers, stealthily moving thirty meters below. They hadn't seen him and he stayed perfectly still, knowing that movement draws the eye. There was a large heavy duty plastic bag on the shoulder of a woman, it had been dug up and was muddy, survivalists. He knew that the steep hill was littered with caches and had become a joke.
He watched them pass, glad they hadn't seen him. He got up and returned home, feeling certain that it was going be a battle of cunning with his neighbours, one of brinkmanship and clever words, and possibly violence at the end.
The following week was unsettling. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. The Friday deadline set by Tom's fat brother passed without event. His ex wife had indeed moved in next door but had made no attempt to speak to him. The four kids were his biggest problem, they raided his garden constantly, stealing tomatoes, scaring the chickens. He had no idea how to handle them and he suspected they were under instruction. Like a superpower will encourage a smaller nation to wind up another superpower. But it was not that at all. He would watch the Mountain Ash as if there was something hidden in there, something watching him. Some of his senses had returned since he had cut down on the booze, and the intuition of being watched was strong, but like the kids stomping through his vegetable garden, he didn't know how to tackle it. He wondered if there were a few survivalists hiding in the twenty acres. He had heard that some had dug themselves in, tunnelling deep in hope of surviving. His walks through the acres showed no signs of that though, and the five households that backed onto the reserve were more vigilant than he. The brats next door were in there as much as his garden, surely they would have raised the alarm? He tried not to think about it and reached fiercely for old habits, namely the drink. Let them make all the moves he thought and rewarded himself for not drinking for a week by having a drink.
The kids were the ones who signalled there was trouble in the woods. They all came back crying one day, one of the boys was bloodied and the girls ashen faced. He watched them take the short cut through his garden into Tom's side gate. "Did he do this to you!" He heard their mother scream.
"No!" They were sobbing and finding it hard to get their words out. "we- we, found a hole with stuff in it and when George said hello she slapped him and when she saw there were four of us she slapped George again and ran away!"
"Survivalists!" He heard Tom curse and the mother asked again if it wasn't The Bad Man Sean.
"It might have been." A girls voice.
"I knew it! The disgusting drunk has violated them! Tom call the police!"
YOU ARE READING
The Pole Shift
Science FictionEarth Crust Displacement, a theoretical and devastating geological event supported by Albert Einstein. What if it was about to happen, what if we knew it was upon us? What if some of us were being watched . . .
