Free Deadlands by Lily Herne Page A

way!’
    ‘She’s not my bloody mother! And I wish you weren’t my father!’
    Dad flinched again at that, but neither he nor the Mantis replied. The long silence was only broken by the sound of the kitchen door creaking open.
    ‘Gogo?’ Jobe said, peering in at us from behind the door, the expression in his eyes making him look about a hundred years old.
    ‘You can’t take him!’ I said, scooping up Chinwag who had made her way under the table, and moving to grab Jobe’s hand. ‘I won’t let you!’
    Right then I knew I had to come up with a plan. And I had to do it fast.

14
    I practically ran to school that morning. I needed to talk to someone, and who else was there but Thabo? As soon as I slipped through the gate I caught sight of him lounging against the sun sculpture, chatting to a plump girl with light brown, frizzy hair. For once I didn’t hang back. ‘Thabo,’ I said, striding straight up to him. ‘I really need to talk to you.’
    The girl looked at me curiously, but not unkindly, and with a small wave and a ‘catch you later’ to Thabo she wandered towards the classroom. He watched her go, and I couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of jealousy as he did so. Finally he gave me his full attention. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said. ‘I’ve also got some news.’
    We headed to the dumpster alley, neither of us speaking, although it was clear from the speed Thabo was walking and the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fists that he was also bursting with news.
    ‘You first,’ I said as soon as we were hunkered down behind the dumpster, although I was dying to let all my anguish out.
    ‘I went to a meeting last night, Lele.’
    ‘What meeting?’
    ‘An ANZ gathering. At New Arrivals. It was amazing. You should have heard them speak. There was this one guy – Michael. What he said made so much sense. If we don’t make a stand now the Resurrectionists will end up ruling the enclave with an iron fist. They –’
    ‘But they do rule the enclave.’
    ‘Exactly! But it’s only going to get worse. Last year three teenagers were given to the Guardians; this year it’s five. What’s next? All of us? And why don’t we know what happens to them? It has to be stopped!’
    Thabo was right, but I couldn’t think about it then. All I could think about was getting Jobe out of the city, away from Mandela House, but I let him speak; he was so fired up by what he’d heard that the excitement was practically crackling out of him.
    ‘Sorry,’ he said, finally. ‘I’ve been talking for ages. Your turn.’
    I started at the beginning. I told him how Jobe had changed after the Guardians had brought him back with the rest of the children they’d taken, about how awful it was to see him stay the same size, the same age, while I grew up. My brother’s growth stunted; his thoughts trapped inside his head. I finished with the Mantis and Dad’s plans to dump him in Mandela House.
    ‘I’ve always been there for him, Thabo. I can’t let them take him away from me now.’
    ‘But how can you stop them?’
    ‘I need to find a way to get back to the Agriculturals. It’s different there, freer. I’ve got friends there. I can make a life for us.’
    ‘What as? A farmer? A field worker?’
    I bristled. ‘There’s more to life there than just farming, Thabo.’
    ‘But to hire someone to take you through the Deadlands, Lele – that’s impossible. And even if you did find someone willing to risk it, it would probably cost a fortune.’
    ‘What about the Mall Rats?’
    ‘What about them?’
    ‘You said they go outside the enclave.’
    His eyes slid to the left. ‘Forget the Mall Rats, Lele,’ he said.
    ‘What? Why are you saying that now?’
    ‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said, brushing my questions away.
    He dug in his backpack and pulled out a piece of paper. There was a poorly executed pen-and-ink drawing of a Rotter’s head with a cross scored through it, and the words
Make a stand,