War/Peace. Matthew Vandenberg

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СКАЧАТЬ someone shouts. 'Use your teeth. On the tongue! Get the tongue!'

      I can't see what's going on. The crowd in front of me is too great. For a minute I think I'm at a football match. That is until I glance up and around and notice that the shed I'm standing in is only a little larger than my back yard.

      'I can't see a thing!' I yell, before grabbing onto Alana's arm. 'Lead me through.'

      'Sure,' Alana says, using some elbows to wedge several people out of our way. 'Can you smell that?'

      'Yeah,' I say. 'What is it?'

      'Blood and sweat!' Alana yells out. Then she pushes me to the front of the crowd. I see what everyone's here for. And I see where most of the yelling is coming from. Two women, in a bath of mud, are literally clawing one another. Each have massive scratches all over her body.

      'I hate to say this,' Alana says, after pulling me back by my left shoulder and bringing her mouth close to my ear, 'but the only way I can describe this is by using the cliche examples of Tyler's fights in that movie Fight Club. This is pretty much just like that. But you can just watch if you like, you don't have to join in. In fact, you can't. It's only for girls and women.'

      'Are they ok?' I ask, not taking my eyes of the two fighters. I'm only one metre away and I can feel the mud splashing onto my skin every time one of the women pummels the other into the ground. But - for some strange reason - I find myself kneeing down almost immediately. And I lean a little closer.

      'They'll stop after five,' Alana says. 'They come here for that stench. You smell it? The mixture of blood and sweat from a beautiful, worked, female body. It's intoxicating don't you think?'

      I nod silently, as though a voiceless approval is not as significant or premeditated as a spoken one.

      Ding ding!

      A bell rings - I'm not sure where from - and the women stop thrashing around and pull back from each other, breathing heavily - their chests heaving up and down.

      'Great workout,' Alana says into my ear. 'You know - this kind of thing is what men do all the time with Rugby and whatever. And yet this is banned when it's women. All they want is a good workout. This is some of the best exercise you'll get.'

      One woman gently caresses an arm of the other and then pulls it towards her face. She begins to lick the blood, mud and sweat from it.

      'What's happening?' I ask. without averting my gaze.

      'Not as crazy as you think. They're just pruning each other. Like cats. Only - unlike cats - these girls have had their blood tested by a doctor who comes here all the time. So - believe it or not - there ain't even any risk of disease here. Not that I wouldn't watch otherwise.'

      'Do they' - I swallow - '. . . there's blood on their lips . . . do they . . .?'

      'Yes,' Alana yells into my ear, slapping me on the shoulder. 'You're such a typical guy.'

      I begin to breath heavily, anticipating that contact between lips. I can smell the sweat of these girls but somehow an even more powerful smell comes from Alana, whose head now rests on my shoulder. Would I still be breathing as heavily if she - my first cousin - wasn't tightly wound into me, like the sexy snake from the Garden of Eden, tempting me to taste that apple . . . to taste her lips? Would I be holding just anyone's hand as I now hold Alana's - tightly, rubbing my sweat into hers so freely, without restraint, without feeling at all self-conscious or embarrassed?

      'Why are so many things in this world illegal for so many fucked up reasons?' Alana yells.

      'What?' I ask, turning around to face her.

      'Let's go!' Alana screams, grabbing me by the arms and hoisting me up. ‘Don’t you hear that?'

      I look back to where the girls should be. They're gone - having left only some calligraphic red swirls in the grey mud.

      'The sirens!' Alana screams. 'C'mon, let's go!'

      I hear them now: blaring sirens becoming louder and louder, an unwanted noise intruding into the peaceful - albeit noisy - serenity of the situation.

      'Let's go!' Alana screams again, practically dragging me with her. 'C'mon Shaun, faster. You gotta run now cous', I mean it!'

      And then - finally becoming aware of what's going on - I bolt alongside her, clasping her hand tightly as though a child holding onto his mother's as he flees a fire.

      SHELLY FREEMAN – 11:47am - December 17 - 2011

      'There she is,' Shaun says. 'She's coming. I see her.'

      'She's passed through security?' Jackson asks. I can hear every word through my earphones. Every word, every sound from inside the house. I can hear whatever Big Bro wants me to. Their voices echo in my mind like rain on a metal sheet; so clear, and so sharp; as though I'm watching them on a high definition screen, and then I see Jackson and Shaun through the widescreen window.

      'She strolling up to our front door so I'm pretty sure she's through. Gotta admit it's great to see her again.'

      'Yeah. Yeah, that's her. Shelly!' - Jackson yells. He holds up a palm.

      JACKSON CURTIS – 11:48am - December 17 - 2011

      She smiles, allowing her lips to lift like the wings of angels. I walk over to the door and pull it open: 'Shelly. I can't believe you made it here.'

      'You're in the south, all of you,' Shelly replies. 'I'm the one who's in disbelief.'

      'Not out of choice,' I say. 'Well, then again, I kind of like it here. Sort of like a holiday house.'

      'Thank you for letting me in,' Shelly says. 'I don't know what's going on out there anymore.'

      'Of course you do!' Chloe yells. 'This is the south side and you're a south-sider. Of course you know what's going on!'

      SHELLY FREEMAN – 11:49am - December 17 - 2011

      'I'm confused,' I say, stepping into the house.'

      'Confused about what side you belong to?' Chloe presses.

      'Chloe,' Shaun says. 'Don't.'

      'Shut up Shaun.' - She walks over to me. - 'You just forgot you're a south-sider, forgot you're a Catholic, forgot why we're fighting!? Or are you here to spy on us? And what can we do if you are? We're at your mercy. Three north-siders at the mercy of a south-sider. And where's your mate?'

      'She'll be here soon,' I say. 'Look: Chloe is it?'

      'Don't get all friendly with me bitch. It's people like you who are fuckin' up Sydney. The Harbour Bridge is down. The whole city is in ruins! And all because you hate America! All because you're all so fuckin' frigid!'

      'I told you I don't understand what's going on,' I stress. 'Please. I'm just as confused as you are. I hear it was the north that bombed the bridge anyway.'

      'You bitch!' Chloe yells. She runs at me but Shaun grabs her by the waist. 'Let me go! She's blaming us! She's blaming us for the destruction of the bridge, Shaun? Listen! Can you hear СКАЧАТЬ