out of doorways like velvet-winged moths. Some waited outside the shops while others went inside, or darted into the bakery or the shop with rows and rows of cakes in the window. We went into the fruit shop first. Most things were rotten, but we got apples and carrots, a few bananas and some bottled water. In the newsagency Billy found a whole box of batteries, a cigarette lighter and a packet of lollies, but all the cigarettes were gone. We packed everything in my suitcase, on top of the art books.
Then Billy said, ‘We’ll have to get a move on. I’ll go to the cake shop and you boys see if you can find some paper for drawing on.’
It was dark inside the butcher’s shop and I made Max wait outside while I ran back to get a loan of Billy’s torch. One of the shadow people was talking to him. He stopped when he saw me coming, but not before I heard him say something about a place Albert Park had mentioned, ‘No-Man’s-Land’. I made up my mind to ask Billy about it when he was in a good mood.
‘You’d better come in with me,’ I said to Max, ‘I’ll need someone to hold the torch.’ There was plenty of paper on the counter in the butcher’s shop. I rolled it up and was putting it in a plastic bag when Max wandered off. I heard him calling from the back of the shop. He shone the torch so I could see where he was. ‘Let’s see what’s in there.’ He was standing in front of a white door.
‘It’s probably just a kitchen,’ I said. ‘Come on, Billy will be waiting.’
‘Just a peek,’ said Max with his hand on the latch. ‘It won’t take long.’
I should have stopped Max right then, but I watched his fingers undo the metal catch. The door was heavy and Max couldn’t open it by himself. I wish I’d walked away, but I didn’t. I stuck my fingers underneath the rubber seal and pulled. The door came open with a rush and Max screamed. I grabbed the torch and turned it off, but not before we’d seen all the dead bodies hanging from a rail on huge metal hooks, and not before we’d seen what the maggots had done to them. The smell was disgusting. I tried not to breathe, and Max was throwing up all over the place. I grabbed his hand and we ran for the street.
‘They’re animals, Max,’ I said in case he thought they were people’s bodies.
‘I know,’ he sobbed, ‘the poor things.’
Billy came back with bread and cake and biscuits and he held out a jam tart each for Max and me. ‘Thought you were starving,’ he said when we didn’t take them. I told him what we’d seen and he got a bottle of water out and cleaned Max up as good as he could. I got a bottle for myself, but no matter how hard I scrubbed or how much water I used I felt like the smell of the rotten animals had got into my skin and onto my clothes.
We walked back the way we came, and even though it was dark there were no lights burning inside the houses. They were like people without hearts; raspberry tarts without the jam. The further we got away from the butcher’s shop, the better I felt. I saw Dreamland, milky as the moon, maybe only fifteen minutes away if we walked fast. Carelessly, I let my suitcase wheels hum along the pavement in time with my heart.
We had got to the S-bend in front of the hotel when suddenly Billy put his arms out and grabbed me and Max and we all went tumbling down the grassy embankment. I saw streamers of starlight, smelt dirt up close and felt my back smack against something hard. I caught my breath and rolled over, looking for the others and for my case. A low stone wall had stopped us from rolling onto the winding road, two metres below. Max was lying face-down on the grass above me. He was sobbing. I don’t think I could hear him, but I knew, somehow. I crawled up and lay next to him.
‘What’s the matter?’ I whispered.
‘I’ve lost my glasses.’
‘We’ll find them. I’ll get Billy’s torch.’
Then I heard a motor running, the gears changing at the bottom of the