The Fire & The Fishers

Throat-scratching heat permeated through room even though it wasn’t yet dawn. The sound of trees creaking under the hot wind’s pressure outside, almost like a voice whispering out of the darkness. A nearby cane toad croaked out its usual rolling call, waking Eira from her uneasy sleep.

Her short, matted curls bounced around her as she sat up. She quickly grabbed a bandanna from beside the cot and tied it a centimetre or so back from her freckled forehead. The move had pushed Eira’s brown curls away from her sun-battered face before she started the rushed motions of getting ready for the day. She turned to the other woman in the room.

“Come on, Squeak,” Eira jostled “it’s already four o’clock.” They’d have to get a move-on to catch the squad of Fishers which would be passing nearby. After a grunt of recognition - but no sign of Squeak getting up - Eira threw a small Kakadu plum at her head. But Squeak seemed to anticipate the move and swivelled on the dusty foam mattress just in time to catch the offending fruit.

“I wouldn’t have foraged those for you if I’d known you’d use them as a projectile, Ei.” Squeak smirked, flicking her unwashed blonde hair away from her face. After huffing dramatically, Eira went into the adjacent room to fill their canteens with water from the bathtub. It was getting woefully low again, they’d have to do a run to the old dam soon enough. But that was a day’s journey and….“Whatever you’re worrying about, it can at least wait ‘till you eat something first.” Squeak interrupted Eira’s thoughts. “That way you’re thinking on a full stomach.”

Eira turned to look at Squeak through the empty doorframe (it’s corresponding door long since missing), seeing that she had sat up now. Squeak was munching on her measly breakfast, her left leg stretched out off the mattress, onto the splintery hardwood floors, her right stump still on the bed. Finishing up with the canteens, and then grabbing her own fruity breakfast, Eira watched Squeak put on her prosthesis out of the corner of her eye.

Grunting slightly at the awkward angle, Squeak strapped on her below-the-knee prosthetic, wrenching the worn leather buckles into place. When she was a child – well before The Fires and well before the name ‘Squeak’ - she had had an excellent sports leg built with the latest technology. Over the years since The Fires, however, she’d had to learn how to make and modify her own prostheses as her body changed and grew. The original springy carbon fibre curve remained, but almost everything else was replaced several times over by now.

Eira smiled as her attention was caught by another familiar sight. Threaded onto a thin woven braid of leather and tied to one of the buckles on Squeak’s prosthetic, was her favourite keepsake; an old heart-shaped locket. Now badly scratched and scuffed, it no longer reflected sunlight as it had back when the two women first met. But it still held it’s quiet charm all the same, so small you’d only notice it if you were looking for it. The blonde tilted her head in confusion, realising Eira was watching.

Noticing being noticed, Eira spoke in clarification before tossing Squeak her canteen. “One of these days you’re going to have to tell me the story behind that old bauble.” But the blonde shrugged, took a quick sip then responded as she stood up:

“Seriously, all the story you need is that it’s lucky… and this old thing needs all the luck in can get.” Squeak raised her bad knee to slap her thigh like a man in his forties who really liked the joke he just told.

“Whatever.” Eira chucked and lugged her backpack over her shoulder, knowing there was more to it than that, but also at peace with the fact that Squeak might never share. We all have our pasts. “Time to go.” The two women boarded up the shack and got in the Ute, heading off into the pre-dawn air.

The squad they were targeting would be passing the area via the old National Highway, a few klicks north west of their shack. According to their informant at the Auction-house around 3 hours away, this squad of Fishers were due to arrive sometime before 9:00am when the next sale would take place with their fresh catch. Eira and Squeak were going to interceded the convoy before it got there.

Arriving at the highway, they parked the Ute in some bushland a few hundred metres away from where they decided to set their trap, and got to work. Eira laid out a spike strip. It was definitely worse for wear these days, and was more than a little rusted but as the saying goes: ‘as long as it does the job.’ Meanwhile, Squeak checked over the weapons. They weren’t hoping things would go pear-shaped, but they were planning for it. After finishing their preparations the woman sat behind a nearby rock and waited for the sounds of vehicles in the distance as the sun rose. It was strangely peaceful.

Squeak hissed suddenly, and Eira turned to see her face contorted in pain. She was rubbing her knee above her prosthesis. Eira recognised the situation quickly and swore internally. Phantom pains? She thought. Now of all times?

“It’ll pass.” Squeak’s voice was strained “Just give me a minute.” But from the distance, the sound of engines hit Eira’s ears.

“We don’t have a minute I’m afraid.” She cocked her shotgun and pivoted around in her crouched stance to face the oncoming squad. “Just take a few shots from here and join the fun when you can.” She said as she assessed their target. There were three vehicles in total. At the head and tail of the convoy were two battered black SUVs, and in-between them was a rickety canvas truck. The ‘payload’.

Squeak put a hand on Eira’s shoulder. “You know the fun’s only present when I am.” Her cocky voice cooed. Eira looked in her eyes and saw Squeak was handling the pain well, so she turned back to the road.

“Then let’s go gut some Fishers.” The brunette grinned, though Squeak rolled her eyes at the pun. A second later the first SUV hit the spike strip. It spun out almost immediately, taking it far out of action.

The truck and the tailing SUV slowed to a stop to investigate. Luckily the first car had swept the spike strip along with it meaning Eira and Squeak had a few more moments of anonymity left. The drivers of both vehicles got out. Greasy-looking men in their 50’s, blood splatters on their shirts from more unfortunate members of their latest catch. “Do you have a shot?” Eira whispered at Squeak, who was already looking down the scope of her long-range assault rifle perched atop of the rock they were hiding behind.

“Always.” Squeak jeered.

And she took two shots.

Both drivers slumped and hit the cracked road. “Go to the truck, I’ll provide cover fire.” Squeak ushered, and Eira wordlessly obeyed, making her way to the convoy’s main vehicle. Two more men jumped out of the SUV which had been taking up the convoy’s rear, and Squeak quickly took care of them. She got up and followed suit, her rifle trained on the first car which had spun out, waiting for its inhabitants to exit the vehicle.

Eira meanwhile unlatched the back of the truck and swung the doors open. Dawn’s sunlight streaming in, illuminating the terrified faces of the people inside. Chained to each other, huddled together. The brunette had to settle her stomach when she saw there were children in this latest ‘catch’.

“We’re here to help.” She smiled “I’ll go find the keys to these chains and be back in a moment. In the meantime-“ Another gunshot rang out nearby.

“Crap!” Eira heard Squeak curse and leapt into action. By the time she was in eyeshot again, Eira knew the cause of Squeak’s outburst.

That damned rifle was known for jamming up and, clearly, exactly that had happened again. A young-ish man and woman had now made their way out of the car which had been taken out by the spike strip. They were hiding behind their SUV when they began opening fire on the front end of the truck. Behind which Squeak was taking shelter.

Eira switched from her shotgun to her pistol, knowing it had better range.

“Get in the truck and keep your head down!” The brunette yelled running towards Squeak, who dove in headfirst to the truck’s cabin. Eira climbed on top of her, the two laying flat. A bullet hit the windshield and shattered it as Eria saw that the keys were in the ignition still. “Lucky!” She grinned.

“Okay Squeak, stay there.” She shifted so she could see the convoy’s first car over the dash. “I’ll start her up, you floor it.”

“And then what!?” Squeak craned her neck to look at her partner-in-crime.

“And then we’ll make these dung-munchers sleep with the Fishers.” Eira grinned manically.

“You say one more Fisher pun and I swear I’ll cut your leg off so we can be twins.”

“You good to go or not?”

“Just do it!” And Eira started the truck’s engine, while Squeak used both her hands to shove the accelerator to the floor. The lorry lurched forward towards the two remaining Fishers, with the women at the wheel driving blind. The shots stopped coming though. With the gunfire paused Eira sat up fully to see the man and woman running from the truck’s path. Their backs turned, Eira fired a few shots through where the windshield had been and gunned them down. The man died quickly, but the woman kept living. And kept crawling.

“Stop the truck.” Eira yelled and Squeak slammed her hands on the break before her brunette counterpart cut the engine. They jumped out of the vehicle and made their way over to the woman, still slithering away.

“I hope you’re at peace.” Squeak said as she picked up the gun of the male Fisher they’d just rid from the world. The woman turned on her back and propped herself up on her elbows.

“I am at peace. The good Lord said to be fishers of men.” She spat some blood on herself. “I did as I was called to do.”

“Clearly you all needed to read more of the Bible then, Hun.” Eira scoffed.

And the two women took another shot each.