by Annie Seaton
Now, Missy stood stock-still as Tommy walked past Stanley’s hiding place for the second time, paused and then looked up the hill. ‘I can see you, Missy, so come out.’
She giggled again. There was no way he could see her; she might have fallen for that ruse when she was little, but she would not now.
By the time he finally found Stanley with a triumphant whoop, Missy was getting bored. Dropping the vine curtain, she flexed her fingers and turned around. She crossed to a rock in the middle of the space, and after checking around it, she sat down. It was cool in the shade, the lacy canopy of leaves above letting only a small amount of light in. Eventually, the sound of Tommy and Stanley coming up the hill reached her.
The vine curtain was shoved aside and Tommy’s voice was full of glee. ‘Found you!’
‘Only with Stanley’s help,’ Missy said in a bored voice. ‘You never would have found me by yourself.’
‘Oh jeepers, Stanley! Look at these vines. It’s like a jungle.’ Tommy pointed to the vegetation that went for over thirty yards past the rock wall in the centre and then disappeared over the side of the hill into the next gully. ‘Let’s go and explore.’
Their companion shook his head. ‘You don’t go down there.’ Stanley’s eyes were wide in his dark face and his voice was high-pitched as he backed away out of the shady glade.
‘Why not?’ Tommy persisted with a teasing laugh. ‘You scared of bad spirits, Stanley?’
‘No. It’s just bad land. We no go there.’
‘We don’t go there,’ Missy corrected him. Just because Stanley wasn’t allowed at their lessons didn’t mean she couldn’t help him improve his grammar. He was a quick study and they’d been great mates ever since his father had turned up on their lease a couple of years ago.
Stanley hurried back out and Missy followed him into the sunshine. She put her hand to her eyes; it was dazzling outside after the cool interior of the glade.
Whoever would have guessed there was such a pretty spot close to the house? Spiky brown grass and dusty stockyards surrounded the small house that Father had built when he’d first leased the land. Rooms had been added on higgledy-piggledy over the years, but Missy still shared a room with Eunice; there was never anywhere to sit and be quiet by herself.
The glade was going to be her special place, and she intended to come back up as soon as she could get away from the boys.
Tommy shrugged and gave in to his mate. ‘Okay, you go back. Missy and me’ll go exploring.’
‘Missy and I.’
Tommy glared at her.
Missy patted Stanley on the back as relief relaxed his shoulders. His work shirt was rough beneath her fingers. ‘I’m going to go back and get my book to read.’
‘Come on, Stanley, we’ll go down to the creek and look for gold,’ Tommy said. ‘Then if we find some I won’t have to go to school anymore.’
‘Father said the Chinese have taken all the gold already.’ Missy shook her head.
‘There might be some here,’ Tommy said scornfully.
‘I don’t want to. I’m going back to the house,’ she said.
‘We’re a long way from the mining camp. They haven’t even looked in our rivers,’ her twin said. ‘Come on, Stanley. Let’s go and get that dish Father had.’
Their father had been enthusiastic when the first gold was discovered west of them just over six months ago, thinking it might make their life on the land easier. For a while he’d considered joining the constant stream of men trudging west carrying tools and guns across the dry gullies.
‘One good find, Lila, and I could build you that fancy homestead I promised you,’ he’d said to Mother one night when they’d sat on the porch and watched the pall of dust over the road a couple of miles away from their hut.
‘You’d be better off staying here and working the cattle, Thomas.’ Mother had looked up from her mending. ‘What would suit us best would be if they do discover enough to make it worthwhile for the teamsters and storekeepers to come our way.’
Tommy had been intent on discovering gold on their place since he’d listened to their parents that night.
‘Well, when Stanley and I find it, you don’t get a share.’
‘I don’t want one,’ Missy replied haughtily.
They headed back down the hill, but Stanley’s father was waiting for them at the gate and he jerked his head to Stanley. Wally was a man of few words; his gesture said it all. Stanley looked at them, disappointment pulling his mouth down in a scowl. ‘I gotta go work.’
‘Okay, I’ll help out too,’ Tommy said. ‘What are you doing, Wally?’
‘Moving some cattle. We have to move that herd from the west paddock. It’s spooking the horses too much out there.’
‘What do you mean spooking?’ Missy asked.
Stanley puffed out his chest as he answered, ‘It’s bad land. Them horses don’t like it.’
‘What do you mean bad?’
Wally gestured sharply to his son and Stanley put his head down and walked over to the horses.
‘What does he mean by bad land, Wally?’
The stockman scratched his head. ‘Funny things happen out there. We can be riding along just fine, and then the bloody—sorry, Missy—blasted horses just stop, and won’t take another step forwards. The one your father was on the other day wouldn’t move. Your father almost went headfirst over the front of him.’
‘I wonder why?’
Wally shook his head. ‘Dunno, but it’s happened too many times now, so we’re going to move the cattle. It only happens over there. You want to help too, Missy?’
She shook her head and crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘No. I have chores to do.’
Wally nodded and Missy waited until they had disappeared down into the gully where Father kept most of the herd. She looked over her shoulder; if she wasn’t careful, Missy knew she’d get roped into helping Eunice in the washing hut. It would be full of steam and stinking hot. Or even worse, she’d get called into the cookhouse; she always had to peel potatoes—or heaven forbid, salt the beef.
Missy skirted around to the front of the house. Her book was still on the bench seat on the porch. She picked it up with a grin, stuffed it into the front of her pinafore and then walked backwards, keeping one eye on the house until she was out of sight. Once she was sure she was in the clear, she turned around and then headed back up the hill.
With her book, and no chores and no Tommy to annoy her, a whole afternoon of freedom beckoned. In the distance she could see Wally, Tommy and Stanley moving the cattle. Brown dust hung in the air as they headed for the perennial spring on the other side of the hill. Missy sat on a rock in the hot sun and watched until they disappeared. Then the cool of the glade beckoned; she put her book aside and approached the vine curtain.
This time she went deeper into the recess behind the green curtain. A pile of rubble sat beneath a rock wall and the sun was shining in through a gap in the canopy high above. As she looked up, she kicked her bare foot on a large stone and stumbled. Putting her hand out, she caught her balance on the rubble before she fell. The highest rock at the top of the pile rolled and she jumped back as the whole lot shifted and disappeared into a crevice, the sound of them hitting the ground below preceding the cloud of choking dust that came through the fissure in the rock. She screamed and put her hands up as a small black creature came through the crevice and flew past her face.
Slowly, the dust cleared and she approached the large hole that had appeared at the base of the rock wall. Walking across slowly in case the ground shifted, or worse still, she fell into the hole, she gripped a tree branch as she leaned forwards and looked down.
It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen, and as she became more confident she moved closer. Beneath her, about twenty yards down the scree of fallen rocks, was a huge cavernous opening that went further than she could see. The light from the opening above caught hundreds of cobwebs interlaced through the rocks, each one
holding dead leaves woven into a semicircular shape. She shivered and stepped back from the eerie scene as she wondered at the size of the spiders that had spun those webs. The walls were different shades of reds and browns, and for a moment, she wondered how the colours had been painted on before she realised that the colours changed as they followed the shape of the rock walls and ceiling.
Missy stood there for a few minutes and examined the rock in detail, considering climbing down to the cave. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see further in, and realised that the black spots in the walls and ceilings were hundreds of bats clinging to the rock. Halfway along the cavern, tree roots dangled from the ceiling, forming a forest of greenery.
She jumped as something moved in the red dirt below. A huge snake slithered along the ground, stopping every foot or so at each fallen rock, leaving a trail in the fine dust behind it. It must have been at least twelve feet long, and she held her breath, any thought of going down there quickly disappearing.
Maybe with Tommy one day, but certainly armed with a weapon.
Missy backed away from the crevice as the snake began to climb up the rock wall towards her, its tongue flicking in and out as it tasted the air in search of prey.
CHAPTER
7
Hidden Valley, 3 January 2019
Emlyn rose early and pulled on her jeans and work boots, and she grabbed a jacket and her phone before she slipped out of her room. If she was going exploring, she should follow the policy that she insisted on for her team members, although it was a bit hard to tell anyone where she was going, seeing as she was here alone.
She didn’t intend to go far. As they’d climbed the hill to the tube’s entrance last night, she’d noticed a higher hill a kilometre or so to the east. It would be a good vantage point to scope out the property and the direction of the tubes from the east to the west. She was going to read more of the German research papers. It might be convenient to enter the tube where they had stood last night, and where the Germans had done their initial research, but its proximity to the accommodation was not really a good enough reason to focus on that section of it.
The chances of coming across different species would be higher if she and the team went in deeper. Perhaps to a section where the roof hadn’t collapsed and there was no intrusion of vegetation from above. It appeared that the discoveries made by the Germans were very similar to the findings of the team that had done extensive research in the Hawaiian lava tubes. Invertebrates had colonised the young lava tubes there and were already evolving as tropical-zone cave-adapted species. The tubes on the Carlyle property were much older than the Hawaiian site, and the possibility of discovering new species was excellent.
A spark of anticipation fired in Emlyn’s belly as she shut the door behind her. Seeing the wildlife at sunset last night had awoken feelings that had lain dormant for too long. She switched on her phone and checked the time. Sunrise was about half an hour away. The first rosy streaks of dawn were painting the sky as she ran lightly down the three stairs to the dusty drive. A wallaby stood beside her car as she walked past, not bounding away until she was almost upon it. She crossed the paddocks to where Travis had pointed out the site of the original homestead, walking parallel to where they had driven along the track. As she passed the half-tumbled-down brick chimney, a movement behind it caught her attention and she blinked.
Emlyn found a gap in the barbed wire fence, slipped beneath and walked across the paddock. She could have sworn that she’d seen a small girl run from the fence line to the site of the old house. She shook her head and picked up her stride.
‘Hello? Is anyone there?’ She felt silly as she called out. There was nothing to be seen apart from the hovering mist and ghostly shadows, but still a shiver ran down her back. As she got closer to the chimney, she could see the charred posts that once had supported the dwelling. Greener grass shoots surrounded the posts that were laid out in a rectangular formation; it obviously had been a big house. A rustle in the grass froze her to the spot. She smiled with relief as another wallaby—about the size of a small child—scurried through the gap in the fence.
As Emlyn turned to head back to the east, she noticed a large lump of concrete in front of the fence line and she wandered over. It didn’t matter if she missed the sunrise; she had at least another three months to see that.
There was a wooden gate in the fence and she pushed it open, surprised to see that there was a small cemetery laid out behind the ruins. Ground cover with tiny white flowers climbed over some of the graves, and a shaft of grief hit her as she spotted a small jar with some flowers against a fairly new marble headstone.
Her breath caught, and heavy pressure built in her chest. She gripped the gate and closed her eyes and fought the panic attack that threatened, focusing on taking in steady and deep breaths. There was no one here; it was simply a memorial to people who were long gone. It was no one she knew, and it meant nothing to her. Concrete and memories, that’s all it was. This feeling of doom that was slowly squeezing her chest wasn’t real. She wasn’t having a heart attack; it was all in her imagination. Focusing on trying to see three things and identify three different sounds—a strategy the psychologist had given her to stop a panic attack—she dropped to her knees and put her hands over her eyes, pushing back the tears as her heart beat a fast race in her chest.
The tears that were always there.
Why now? She should have continued up the hill to be now sitting there watching the sun steal over the land, instead of being caught in her own horror.
‘You all right there, love?’
Emlyn jumped to her feet as a man appeared from behind the newer headstone. She put her hand to her chest; the pressure had eased, but her heart was thundering away. At least the fright of hearing his voice had brought her back to the present.
He was short and stocky with grey hair, and he wore a stained T-shirt tucked into a pair of khaki trousers held up by a piece of what looked like fencing wire. He held a cigarette in one hand and a toolbox in the other. She looked at him warily as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and drew in deeply.
‘Yes. I’m fine, thank you,’ she said.
As he walked over to her, Emlyn put her hand in her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the phone, although that was a waste of time; there was no one to call if she needed help.
‘I’ve been over at the dongas checking the water pressure.’ His voice held the gravelly tones of a heavy smoker. ‘Didn’t take long.’
Emlyn swallowed and straightened her back, taking her hand out of her pocket. ‘Oh, thank you. You must be Bluey?’
‘Yep, that’s what they call me. Blue, Bluey, your call.’ His face crinkled in a larrikinish smile as he gestured to his head. ‘When I was a young fella, I was a gingernut, and even though I’m old and grey now, I still answer to Blue.’
She nodded.
‘Anyway, your water’s all good now. There was a dead possum blocking the intake. I hope you haven’t been drinking the tank water.’
‘No, I brought bottled water.’
‘Good move.’ He stood and regarded her. ‘You’re the one Travis told me is going into the caves.’
‘Yes,’ she said, gesturing behind her. ‘I was just walking up to watch the sunrise when I noticed the ruins. You’re out working very early. I didn’t see you there when I left.’
‘Yeah, there’s cattle to be moved out of the paddock today.’ He jerked his head towards the hill. ‘I was parked around the back of the tank when you walked out. I gave you a hoy, but you didn’t hear me.’
‘No, I didn’t. Anyway, thanks for fixing it. I’ll tell the others to be careful with the water when they arrive.’
‘I thought you might have come this way. Be careful up on that hill.’ The smell of roll-your-own-tobacco took Emlyn back to her childhood. It was the smell that had always surrounded Poppa, her paternal grandfather. She’d spent much of her childhood at her grandparents’ house at Morningside, whi
le her parents had explored the world. The passing of Nana and Poppa within a month of each other had been her first experience of loss and death.
As she followed him back through the gate, he pointed at the hill. ‘There’s a track up that way. I’ll show you. Wait here. I’ll just put my tools in the ute.’
Emlyn waited while he walked to the road; she hadn’t heard his vehicle as she’d wandered around the headstones, but she could see it parked about a hundred metres away. He hurried back to her, and then set out at a brisk pace, taking a different path to the one she would have followed. They were on the opposite side of the hill to where she’d been with Travis and his boys last night. They walked through a stand of trees where fat and healthy cattle grazed. Beside the grove, a small spring bubbled from the rocky hillside and an expanse of water glistened pink in the soft light of dawn. The incline was gentle, and it was only about five minutes before they reached the crest that overlooked the property. As Bluey leaned against a tree and pulled out another paper and a packet of tobacco, Emlyn’s phone buzzed, but she ignored it.
‘That’s not good for you, you know,’ she said.
‘Love, I’m too old to worry about that now. Besides, none of it’s true. All that guff about smoking being bad for you. It’s a government conspiracy.’
Emlyn raised her eyebrows and waited until he had finished rolling the cigarette before she walked to stand beside him. In the soft light, it was easy to see the alignment of the depressions as they ran from the east, where in the far distance the rim of the old volcano at Undara was visible. Some of the depressions were oval, some were elongated, but all had dark-green vegetation that was easy to discern in the early-morning light.
She shook her head and spoke half to herself. ‘It will take years to explore all of that.’
‘Why do you have to go down there? There’s been a lot of people disappear down there.’