Feathers

27. Necropolis

Michael dreamed of a dark beach with ink-black seas and crashing waves that made no sound. The sky was filled with a high pitched squeal. The squealing didn't stop, it just got louder. It reminded him of a kettle. He opened his eyes and realised it was a kettle. A few moments later, Enid walked into the loungeroom carrying a tray of mugs.

Michael helped Enid rouse the others from their sleeping bags and mattresses and the five of them drank their lemon tea quietly in the half-light of dawn. If it wasn't for the anxious knowledge of what lay ahead it would have been a peaceful morning. The dawn chorus of magpies hadn't started yet and it was too early for cars to be on the road. The silence was a welcome reprieve. It felt like the momentary space between an exhale and the next inhale.

Perhaps because everyone was still half asleep, or perhaps because they were just too tired to care any more. For whatever reason, nobody talked or asked questions about what they were about to face. He supposed they all just trusted Enid implicitly. Although what choice did they have? They had no-one else to turn to.

Once they'd finished their tea, Enid herded them out of the house and into her car. It was only a small hatchback so they were crammed in tight, Spencer in the front seat next to Enid with Michael, Kobie and Gretchen squeezed together in the back. Michael didn't mind the crush. It felt comforting to be jammed in between the door on one side and Kobie on the other. It felt like his whole body was being held sturdy in a brace. The warmth of all their body heat filling up the car somehow made him feel safer.

They drove down Enid's street, onto Hunter and then turned down Industrial Drive, heading out of town. Michael had no idea where they were going. He felt like he'd already started dissociating from his own body, holding his breath and waiting for whatever was about to happen. He glanced across at Kobie who looked like she was in a similar kind of halfway place. She was staring away from him, out the window on Gretchen's side at the grey buildings and car lots that rolled past in the fuzzy morning light.

Michael squeezed Kobie's hand, softly at first and then hard, until she turned to look at him. She looked terrified. Her mouth was a thin, flat line and her eyes were wide as if in anticipation of a horror that she was already imagining. Michael smiled at her and put every bit of energy he had into making it a real smile. He conjured up the memory of their first kiss, on the side of the road after their first date.

They had shared a plate of gnocchi and a rocket and parmesan salad in a small Italian restaurant in a beachside Sydney suburb. He'd held her hand on the walk back to the car and when they arrived, stopped her before she climbed in and instead nudged her up onto the sidewalk. He'd stepped down into the gutter so their mouths were aligned, and then kissed her. From that first kiss that, he knew there was something there. A spark, a potential for love.

Michael tried to hold all those warm, good feelings inside of him and telepathically communicate them into Kobie's brain. Perhaps, just for a moment, it worked, because before she looked away to stare out the window again, her brow softened, her eyes relaxed and she smiled.

"God Newcastle is a shit-hole," Gretchen grumbled, also looking out the window at the half-abandoned industrial estate they were driving through. A concrete warehouse with graffiti and a faded sign from last century advertising quality washing machines was surrounded by an oddly haunting flock of broken down and rusted washers, dryers and other assorted white goods that had been at some point laid out in the parking lot and were now abandoned.

Gretchen looked back at Enid and peered ahead through the windscreen.

"So where are we going anyway, to do this ritual?"

It was a good question. Michael, Kobie and Spencer all looked expectantly towards Enid.

"Sandgate Cemetary," Enid said simply.