I never thought that I'd breathe again. Never began to imagine when this terrifying war would end. I still don't. Corrie and Kevin; maybe in hospital… for all we know dead. We fight as the moon rises; sleep as day brings new surprises. The bridge has cost them; not so much for the fight but it's something. We've sparked a revolution. We don't know who's left. I haven't seen anyone but us six; in weeks. I've lost the 'old' Fiona; she was a girl who feared the bush; now I'm Fi. I have: Ellie - a girl so brave, our lives depend; Lee- works harder than any, power through mind; Robyn- keeping us pure at heart; Chris- ready to be lead, to fight for our home; then there's Homer. Yes Homer. He leads; that's everything. Our army; six teenagers dragged from all corners of Wirrawee. Never experienced war before; town nor country and here we are.
Tonight we are going out again; to search helplessly for others. The others want to believe. They think the town, holds what we need; but I know. There isn't place to hide there; it's a risk. It's open; close to everywhere that counts. We go there… we chance never coming back to 'Hell'. A place our army groups; we sleep, we eat, we live in safety in 'Hell'. I have no time now. I used to carry make-up, purses and believe they were important; now I know what's important: friends, love, and living.
"Fi; its time." Not a shout; no higher than old general chatter… but this is when the war begins.
Travelling by our bikes; as quiet as a scorpion yet as sharp as its sting. The wreck of the bridge still smokes; weeks, months have passed but still clouds of ash eaten destroyed metal poison the air. Homer rides like he did at beginning; before the new the facts. Fast, like a shadow of the night. We take the front leading to town. His humour all but gone, to be replaced with determination; he knows this is guarded… this could be the end.
"Down!" Bullets erupt behind me; ear splitting… I duck cowering against Homer; as he drives deeper from our hiding. "Fi. FI!" Each of my senses is fearful; Homer's voice has a likeness a scream in silence. "What?" The fear holds strong inside; my words nothing more than a hollowing nightmare. "Run!"
Hands clasped tight; guns close to hand. We run gasping for breath. Mile after mile into Wirrawee. The destruction here is like a disaster. Thrown ruins of buildings; homes destroyed beyond recognition. Anything could be hiding, in any place; but we keep running. My hearts pounds deep in my chest; each breath burns yet I go. I go faster; faster… running away from whatever was…
"Ellie!" I stop. "Homer; we have to go back!" We left. We drove away. Leaving them to… whatever attacked us: a convoy of soldiers, security? They could be dead and we are running to safety… that isn't right. "We need to go back Homer! They could be dea…dead!" the tears lock up my throat. We've lost Corrie and Kevin; now we may have just lost everyone.
"Fifi; we can't." The detached tone; the siphoning sadness. The final whistle of salute. "Homer we can!" I can't not go back. What person does that make me? Do I value myself above the others; just because me and Homer are safe we should just run? Escape? Make a life together and just hope; hope they fought free and went back to 'Hell'? No that's not me; they are my friends. "We made promises Fi; an army together but we need to still survive; we could make the difference… if they are dead, we can't let them of died for nothing!" Empty. Hollow. My heart just doesn't understand. Where in all this, is there room for planning? They have planned this to happen. They knew the chance of attack was strong; and make a deal of life against life. They could be dead; they could be lying cold somewhere, whilst we are being followed… chased. "Fi, I know. I don't like it. But they agreed. We make something of Wirrawee; we fight and get our home back. For them… if they are gone." Cold. Shivers; tears burning, spilling to run down my cheeks. The times we spent together; in school; the amazing days before the war in 'Hell'; and what's felt like a lifetime running escaping death's shadow. Gone. What if they have died? Died fighting trained foreign fighters; with no hope or no chance.
"Fi, come on; we need to find somewhere to spend today." And for the first time, he takes my hand; pressing it too his lips. "Promise me Fifi; promise me we will survive?" Now in this moment; so inappropriately perfect, I realise something. Homer; perfect, fighting Homer. "We will survive this… we will." I realise now one thing; one tiny spectacular thing- I love him.
So wrong; yet so right. "I love you!" Shock absorbs his face as he realises what he has just said; my heart flutters in joy, a single wish to the wishbone. No longer my 'lemons into lemonade' but my soul mate. "I love you too Homer" Time spins as his lips touch mine; a promise sealed between us. We cannot die; the war needs to end… end in the way it started.
"Where do we go?" The question has been burning on tongue. Where do we go? Town isn't safe but neither is anywhere else. "Fi, we go back to hell; we take the bike stay there for a while- they think they've caught us all." True. We go home; find the memories of before. We think they dead. We've heard as we've moved so slow through the back alleys; cheers of triumph. "Homer?" I need to do this; it will signify something. "Fi?"
"Homer, we go back the way we came; we say goodbye where we left them; ok?" I need to see; I need to know they are gone. Ellie, my friend since we were five; at least her and Lee were together till the end. Chris didn't know him but came to love him as a fighter. Then poor little Robyn, so innocent and gone… taken in such a cruel, torturous way. "Ok Fi; let's go now make it 'Hell' by sunrise" and once again our hands are linked, tracing our path out of the bush.
Three turns… two turns… one turn…
My friends! The ground at our feet, bulleted and blooded. Footprints embedded into alive ground. "Chris." A single shine of silver. An image of a topless woman. His lighter. Homer's dirt embedded hands retrieve the scrap of a memory. "We should go Fi, there is nothing left." He guides me back to the bike… and we ride. The final memory of tonight is a bloodied limb… a pink cloth surrounding. What happened here?
Twenty six days have passed. We've been out again me and Homer. What we've heard is that they attacked… they didn't stand a chance. The only positive is that they believe they have us all. Me and Homer can still make a difference. When this started we were teenagers; not knowing what to do but now I know who we were and who we are… we are fighters; soldiers. Wirrawee is ours; and me and Homer are going to fight; fight till our last breath. We have hope. Hope in us. Hope in Wirrawee. Hope in a war. Tomorrow when the war continues.