Book - Road Back to Kak

The Road Back to Kak

Somerset College By PTN and More

Copyright Published by PTN AND MORE, SOMERSET COLLEGE, SOMERSET DRIVE, MUDGEERABA, QUEENSLAND 4213, LUISA ARDILL WALKER, JAMES ENWRIGHT, SOFIE SMITH, KYAH ANDERSON, MACKENZIE QUIGGIN, MAITO YAMAGUCHI, SHAIV RANJITH, AMY JACKSON, HOLLY CLEMENTS, DESMOND CHUAH Copyright ã 2018, SOMERSET COLLEGE All rights reserved. This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Enquires should be made to the publisher

‘PTN and More’ Members: Luisa Ardill-Walker James Enwright Sofie Smith Kyah Anderson Mackenzie Quiggin Maito Yamaguchi

Shaiv Ranjith Amy Jackson Holly Clements Desmond Chuah

-Chapter One- There is this uncanny moment in life when you realise that you have no idea what you want. It takes you aback – the realisation that you’ve been chasing something which you can’t identify. It doesn’t take long to learn this, if you have the patience and observance. It takes the crimes of others to remember the kindnesses. Our story begins on a muggy evening, the legion behind the lone figure having inspired the courage to instigate the ensuing chaos. The ruinous building plays home to a motley crew of captives. No soul watches over the graveyard of memories tonight, besides a lonely toddler’s shoe dejectedly abandoned on the side of the road. The sun is memorialised by the suffocating air. It smells of hunger; an insatiable glutton reaching for the crumbs of relevance at the bottom of the biscuit jar. Cicadas sing in symphony as the Earth shifts and whispers. All is calm, and then it isn’t. In the distance a soft rumbling escalates as a vehicle sprints down a rural street. The dim streetlights fleetingly grace its polished yellow and black stripes. The pristine Camaro slows and swings into a desolate parking lot, a screech of blinding yellow coming to a deliberate halt directly between two parking lots. The driver nods in satisfaction, pleased with their slight rebellion. Even under the 2am sky, the vast unknown surrounding them in all directions - they are unwavering in their plan. A lithe figure emerges from the Camaro, straightening up to their looming height. Their masculine frame is confident – almost too cocky to be genuine. With a buzz from their back pocket a sly-smirk creeps across their face. The lanky man fumbles in his excitement, reaching into his back pocket to brandish a phone. The white glow illuminates his chiselled face, and if anyone were watching they might describe it as eerie. His ego inflates - ‘_mich.masc_ has tagged you in a photo’ and deflates.

He wants more followers, more popularity and admiration. Not this. Followers are irregular – and he knows this. As his hairline creeps back, his followers dwindle and his uncontrollable need for satisfaction builds. He knows this, he just can’t accept it. This has happened to countless others. But it will not happen to him. What he doesn’t realise is that he needs more than poor emulations of his own philosophy. He returns his phone with an uncharacteristically frustrated exhalation. These thoughts are too complex for someone of his status. He snatches a backpack from the passenger seat - he knows that the crime he plans to commit is for the greater good. He pulls his hood higher up over his face and - crouching low - he slinks along the rear wall. He blends in with the shadows until his searching hands find a door. With a piercing click and some rattling, the door creaks open and the figure quickly rushes inside. He peers around in the dark, closing the door clumsily behind him. It’s dark. He walks down the hallways cautiously. It’s practically empty - common for this time of night. In a country town of this size, the security isn’t very advanced. The room is quite bland upon first inspection. Dingy cell blocks line the walls, fluorescent lights casting lines from the bars across the room like a macabre pattern. It’s clinical in nature, and the intruder sweats. Whether this is due to nerves or the significantly warmer temperature is unclear. These cages are not empty – prisoners of all shapes and sizes are inhabiting them and sensing the intrusion. Some show their acknowledgement, casting their cold and calculating glares upon him. Others barely flinch, returning to their slumbers. The setup of the hall is akin to a proud child lining up their display cases of action figures – showing off the unique features of the residents. The intruder knows that it is now or never, and that someone will notice his presence eventually. So, he inhales – remembering that this is the boost to reincarnate his career, to push him out into the celebrity spotlight - and exhales. Shrugging off his bag and jacket, and leaving them idle on a nearby bench, he reaches into the bag. He rummages for a moment, the dark making him clumsy, before flourishing his chosen tool. A long and intimidating hammer, clearly new and never before used. He stands, newly invigorated. The tool in his hands lends him a strength he wouldn’t otherwise possess. Marching towards the glass window, hammer in hand, he faces the inhabitant. He flashes a grin, almost

threateningly, before rearing the hammer back. In this moment, a red-light blinks periodically in the shiny reflection of the utensil, a foreshadowing of a danger unnoticed by the busy intruder. SMASH. With one long arc, the head of the hammer collides with the glass, showering the trespasser in sharp fragments. He neglects this, grinning in satisfaction. Rebellion has always given him a certain rush. He pivots, and turns to glare into the

next cell. SMASH . Again . SMASH Another . SMASH .

Just before he swings once more, the wild-looking inhabitant catches his eye. Instantly, he knows that - he considers their name badge - Silver is the one. With beautiful golden skin, the man is assured that he found them. Swinging down, he throws back his head and laughs. WOOP. WOOP. WOOP . His voice is drowned out by the alarms as he swears. How could he forget the alarms? Stumbling, he panics. The authorities will be here soon. Snapping his head around, he assesses the situation. The prisoners are escaping, racing to embrace their new freedom. Time is slipping through his desperate hands. Silver is gone. He curses again, turning to sprint towards the door.

A flash of golden slips ahead of him, through the door he entered. Grabbing his backpack and fur jacket, he scrambles and slips through the minefield of glass. He stumbles towards the open entrance, his eyes searching hopefully for the one he needs. ‘ I can’t let Silver go !’ he despairs, ‘ Not when I am this close .’ He sprints back down the hallways, making steady pursuit on the prisoner. A left turn. Another left turn. A right turn, and finally with impressive force he bursts through the door to see - absolutely nothing. Silver is gone. Screaming in frustration, the figure punches the door. Then he kicks it for good luck. Pausing he takes in a deep breath. He knows that he can fix this. He needs to fix this. After all, it’s his life is at stake. He needs those snakeskin sneakers.

-Chapter Two- A thundering crash wakes me from my fragile sleep. Heavy footsteps echo through the room, each ‘thud’ sending waves of fear through me. A vibrant red figure moves towards me - I slip into the shadows at the back of my cell. The window shatters and glass rains around me - I see my opportunity, and I escape from my prison. I don’t look back - I resolve that I won’t, not ever. Excitement courses through me - I can see my family, after so many years. I can once again hear my true name. The novelty of a prison name has worn off - ‘Silver’ no longer excites me the way it once did. As I hurry towards the exit, I see flashes of colour. I sense the thrill of my freedom mixed with an overwhelming fear. My inmates are rushing towards the exit as well, desperately seeking the freedom we have long desired. I passed the gate, sensing my frantic pursuer. I scampered up a looming fig tree, my pallid skin uncomfortably scraping across the prickly bark. I wait in a heavy silence, my entire world consisting of his reckless footsteps and deep breaths. After what seems like a million years, he leaves. I am too exhausted to feel relief. I have plodded across this rocky terrain since the great ball of fire above began its slow cycle across the sky. It now sits at its zenith, and still I trudge on. My body is weary, the landscape around me indistinguishable. The only thing that changes is the cars. As each one rushes by, a dusty cloud chokes the air around me. The desolate dirt road burns in the morning sun and I feel the heat coursing through my veins. I weakly signal to the passing traffic, yet they don’t seem to see me. I continue on, defeated, until a car halts beside me. The passenger door (emblazoned with images of my home, Kakadu National Park) swings open through a thick plume of dust. The driver is wearing an orange shirt, her eyes seem to droop in exhaustion. She mutters something about being in a hurry as I lower myself into the seat, and reaches over the shut the door. I’m thankful for the help, so I don’t mind her bluntness. Anything is better than those bleak prison walls, that void of unrelenting noise - the prison where strangers would stare at me with wide eyes. The sound of my driver’s scuffed boots dragging across the pedals brings me back to the present. “To Kakadu, please” I politely suggest to her.

She doesn’t acknowledge me, but I have faith in this strange and stoic woman. I hope to see my family again, to hear my real name - Patch - grace my ears. Even if I see them briefly, as long as I can say goodbye. I’m not stupid, I know they’re going to find me. The man who chased me. The masked people who imprisoned me. Coldness sinks into my skin. The air begins to fade from a volcanic red to blue. Light blue - almost white - puffs of air are expelled from the mysterious vents in what the woman had referred to as “the dash”. Dark spots disrupt my vision, and my skin is disturbingly cool. I slowly turn my head to face the driver. Only one thought endures in my mind. I need to get out of this freezing oblivion. Focusing all of my energy, I throw myself towards the door. Her head snaps to face me, terror in her eyes. My energy suddenly disappears. Initially, confusion is crosses her face. It is quickly chased by a sudden realisation, and she swerves to pull over. She hurries to my side of the car, and helps me into the sun. I feel the sun as it revitalises me, and as the warmth courses through my veins my thick muscles strengthen.

-Chapter 3- The next few hours blur together. The desert air travels across the empty horizon, and spirals of dust dance along the terrain. I have missed this freedom. The blazing red heat rays bounce off the bonnet of the Civic, and the figure of the driver sits inside. She appears to be reading. The air surrounding me becomes charged, and a steady rumble reaches me. A deep roar comes from the fast approaching Bumblebee Camaro. It seems out of place in the earthy and natural surroundings. It revs its engine menacingly, speeding towards us at an alarming pace. We have to go. I quickly scurry over to the side of the door and slam my body into the door. Startled, the woman opens the door and realises after a moment of confusion that we are being hunted. She shuts her book and throws it aside, while simultaneously jamming the keys into the ignition. She slams on the acceleration and we begin to fly forward. The yellow car continues to roar and thrum behind us. I check the speedometer - 60… 70… 80…. I struggle with the long strap over me but manage to glance behind us at the yellow car. Bold black letters spell out CHAD across the bordered plate on the bumper. I see a man inside the car, who I can only assume is Chad. He has slick brown hair and shades, and is wearing a denim and fur jacket. He turns to the side, and recognition floods through me. His profile matches that of the man who chased me, back at my prison. My blood runs cold in terror. Suddenly the car jolts, and I am thrown forward. We turn onto a back street, our tires scraping against the tarmac. My body begins to tremble as I manoeuvre myself back over the soft thing I am sitting on. I feel the engine of the Camaro roar and rumble as it gains on us. I see Chad in the rear-view mirror. I try to look away but the crazed expression on his face holds me immobile in fear. He stares directly at me, hands gripping the steering wheel almost comically. In deathly slow motions, he mouths “I’m comin’ for youse”. I quiver in my seat with fear. What if he does catch me? What will happen to me? “Mate, don’t fret, I’ll get us there safe.” Janine says softly, assuring me. I try to smile, but I find that I am frozen. I try to think optimistically, even as I hear him gaining on us.

The sound of the V8 engine from the Camaro begins to haunt me. Chad races up beside us. We are side by side, as I see a wild look in his eyes. He begins to smile viciously, and he starts to swerve into us. I begin to scream wildly as he hits us. The metal screeches, drowning out my fear. Janine begins to accelerate as we struggle to escape, pushing the Civic as fast it would go. 90...100...110…. The silver civic screams as it shoots past the Camaro. “I see a servo up ahead. We’ll lose ‘em up here” she whispers to me. She speeds up ahead, and I look at the clock on the dashboard. It reads 2:24. We pull into a nearby gas station, and we park as behind a truck, inconspicuous as possible. The Camaro growls as it races off into the horizon. - I was in and out all morning. Now it reaches the afternoon, the heavy stench of petrol and oil fills my senses. I identify my surroundings and try to figure out where I am. We’re pulling out of a questionable gas station. As I slowly regain consciousness, I can decipher the smells more closely and I realise that the oil scent is coming from my left. Oil seeps from a cardboard box with 6 fried nuggets inside. My pulse hammers in my ears, and the adrenaline thunders through my veins. I’m safe now, I know this. Yet no matter how hard I try, I can’t help but glance in the rear-view mirror. It is unsettling, the knowledge that my people are hunted with such rigour. My eyes dart around the dash – the clock moves in a comforting monotony. I watch it for a moment. At last, my heart begins to slow. Janine clears her throat beside me, the sudden noise startling me. I feel my heart begin to climb, then slow once more as I meet her kind eyes and weathered smile. She makes me feel safe – whether or not that’s unwise, I cannot yet say. “So, how ya doin’?” She asks, with a gruff and embarrassed kind of concern. I incline my head in (what I hope appears to be) a positive manner. She seems to understand and smiles again.

“Good.” For a moment she frowns, and when she opens her mouth to speak I am confused by her words. “We still headed to Kakadu?” Though I cannot physically experience open-mouthed shock, my metaphorical jaw drops. I hadn’t expected this kindness, and it takes me aback. I cannot fathom how brave this woman is. I am a hunted escapee whom everyone seems to think is dangerous, and yet Janine is volunteering to remain with me. I had expected her disdain – surely, no one would subject themselves to the danger I brought. A surge of happiness flows through me, an emotion I have scarcely experienced since I was taken away from my family. She offers me a nugget, which I gratefully accept. We eat in a comfortable silence – interrupted only by the shifting of the old Honda Civic - with the dusty road stretching far ahead of us. The scenic cloak of colour above us goes through its typical period of transition; the dark ochre fades to encompass all light, save for the bright piecing stars up above. We can’t see the road anymore, so the woman hits a button and the front of the car emits a solitary light. I also notice the sights changing; the buildings fading into bright orange rock slope and the smooth black road ending, turning into rocky and uneven terrain. With each twist and turn the vehicle belches clouds of dust, but the car smoothly manoeuvres the off-road terrain. We pull into a grove of trees. It should be familiar, but so much time has passed since the last time I was here. Everything seems deprived of life and debris towers above my family’s home. Janine and I exit the car, and its air conditioners poor attempt to regulate the afternoon heat. Janine begins pulling various tools from her boot. I can feel anxiety bubble up inside of me. My mother’s face is etched into my mind but what if they don’t recognise me? Making my way slowly through the dust, I look up to see four faces. I have no trouble recognising them. We slither toward each other in the underbelly of Kakadu and finally we are reunited, some of the last golden snakes in this area. Our silver heads nudge together in our growing excitement, and joy flows through me. At last I am home. Time seems so disappear and these years sink into the past.

Our joy is quickly subsided by the loud growling of the yellow Camaro. I turn to see him - Chad. His denim jacket is gone now and he seems somewhat diminished without the fur lining broadening his silhouette. “I can’t believe it… it’s Chad AGAIN!” I exclaim to my family. Taking no notice of the flock of birds settled in the dust he drives in with a riot of noise. With the speed of lightning he is out of the car and running towards me. He looks at me with vicious eyes and I spin to look for cover but there is nothing but spinifex and ant hills. Facing my attacker, he reaches out to grab me but I dive and dodge each blow. I feel the adrenaline rush through my body and reel in anger. How dare he try to snatch me? One thought cemented in my mind, I must get them away from my family. I move over through the field and aim for the bushes. I can lose him in the bushes. Chad won’t be able to follow me through the thick bushy land ahead and so I take off slithering quickly across the field. Half way across I heard the footsteps approaching behind me, I turn my head and hiss, showing my fangs as a threat. I think to myself, Perfect! They are away from my family. Janine will look after them . Reacting to my hiss, they step back and hesitate. Using this opportunity, I zoom off into my fast slither again, dodging rocks and sticks obstructing my path. I reach the edge of the bush but they are closing up behind me quick. Thinking it would work like before, I turn my head in attempt to hiss and show my fangs again, yet this time they were ready. Chad’s side-kick, a man with thick muscular arms and a brown vest that read Animal Catcher, grabbed my tail. I feel helpless. I struggle in his grasp, but it is hopeless. Darkness consumed me as he placed a thick bag over my head. I feel a big thump as I am thrown into a cold cage and into the boot of the car. Darkness...

-Chapter 4- As we drove further and further away from my home at Kakadu I think about everything that happened, everything we went through I finally managed to get home to my family and everything was perfect. It was all taken away in an instant by a single human, I didn’t want to leave them but I would do anything to save my family it still makes me sad to know that I’ll never see them again though the easiest decision I’ve ever made. I miss them. My thoughts are interrupted by the screeching of the Camaros brakes, we come to a stop. I’m in the boot of the car so I can’t see anything but we haven’t been driving for long and there wouldn’t be any traffic this late at night. The unknown puts me on edge, maybe I’m overreacting, but I feel like something’s wrong. Outside in the night air I can hear muffled voices and car doors slamming. I hear Chad’s smooth, cold voice he’s arguing with someone - something about the other person’s voice sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I hear footsteps get closer to me then suddenly I hear the click of the lock on the boot and I see an array of flashing lights, then the fog clears and I see who is standing over me. It’s Janine! I don’t know what she’s doing here but I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life. Thankfully she doesn’t react to seeing me, I look deep into her eyes pleading for her to save me. “Hey mate, why do you have a fur denim jacket? It’s boiling out here!” “It’s fashionable not that you would know - obviously,” remarks Chad. “What, did you not hit enough roadkill on your way here, you gotta wear it too?” Janene says as she carefully takes me out of my cage, not making a sound. She slips me into the pocket of her workers jacket, and I lie still not daring make a sound. “Uhh rude! I’ve got a pair of snakeskin boots on the way so if you wouldn’t mind letting me go that would be good. Is anything out of order?” shouts Chad.

“You’re good to go, have a good night sir!” Janine remarked with a small smile on her face. I heard the engines of Chad’s car rumble and hear him speed off into the distance. Safe at last. We are back in the car. Janine sees me, smiles, and starts the car. We speed out of there as fast as we can. Driving back to the country and seeing all of the sights again, I feel so grateful for Janine’s kindness. “When I saw you on the side of the road, I knew that there was just a matter of time before you would be taken and shed to make boots, or put in a reptile centre, or something like that.” she says. “It’s incredible what we do to you. We don’t even see you as living creatures, just resources for our own pointless gain. I couldn’t let that happen to you - especially after I heard about that idiot Chad’s quest to find the best-looking snake possible to take pride of place on his feet. Then he heard about the extremely rare golden tree snakes and just had to find one. No zoo would let him buy one to make into boots. But what the zoos do isn’t much better - I just don’t understand it. I don’t.” I don’t know what a “reptile centre,” or “zoo,” is but it sounds like the kind of place where they keep animals. Like where I was before. Before Chad broke me out. Yeah, he broke me out. He was going to kill me, but without him I wouldn’t have survived. It’s so strange how things work out. We finally pull up. The glistening light glows off the moon behind the wispy clouds, surrounded by an atmosphere of serenity. The echoes of moon-drunk animals howl through the sunken park. With my family in the backseat of the Honda Civic, we wait for the sparking red shadow. My source of life. I catch a glimpse of the scarlet silhouette in the reflection of the mirror. I could hear the gravel crunching on the sole of the figure’s shoe. The door swung open, an immense flow of warm air gushed into the rear of the car. The creaking of the side door reminded me of the time-consuming experiences this person has accomplished. I turn to see my family resting soundly after a chaotic family reunion. The engine of the coupe ignites, the exhaust of the Civic growls. Leaving my hometown was like separating from my family once again. Now I take a leap of faith towards my new future.

Fresh off the thrill of a rough prison escape, our hero finds himself alone on the dusty highway where no-one will stop for him. Eventually, he befriends a road worker who turns a blind eye to his previous exploits. However, when his family is in danger from a fashion model with evil ambitions, our hero has to learn a whole new way of life - and his new friend might hold some hidden secrets about his kind as well. Welcome to the Road Back to Kak.

Recommended Ages 8-12