Two Footsteps

by Belle Brooks

  “Brax, all of us do, your mum is missing.”

  Aleeha draws a noisy breath of air before gasping out loud. Tears flood from her eyes and it’s an instant river they create. She rambles, but nothing she’s says can be understood. Shirley strokes her hand up and down Aleeha’s arm and I turn my attention to Brax whose face has drained of all colour and glows a pale white.

  “We’re going to find Mum, I promise you. You just have to believe we will,” I say, trying to console him. It doesn’t work because soggy tears burst from Brax’s eyes.

  Aleeha runs towards me, and quickly clambers on to my lap without any warning. Her head rests in the nape of my neck. Her tears soak through my shirt. Placing one hand to the back of her head and the other to the middle of her back, I try desperately to hold myself together. I search for Brax, who drops his head and sobs against the table.

  “I want my mummy,” Aleeha chokes out.

  “I want your mummy too” I whisper, as my bottom lip begins to tremor. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s going to call Grandma and Grandad, Nanny and Pop-Pop, Uncle Cruise and Aunty Natalie, to come, okay?” Her sweet little head nods against me as she howls louder.

  “Brax, come here buddy,” I say through a tensed throat as I outstretch my arm to the side. He stands before throwing himself at me. Brax is twelve now and he’s a tall boy, so I barley manage to hold his weight as I pull him against my side. Raising my eyes, I look for Shirley, my rock, or so I hoped, but she’s sobbing into her cupped hands. I dart my attention to John, hoping he can keep me composed. He too is holding back tears as they puddle in his eyes.

  I can’t do this.

  I don’t know how long we sit like this, but I don’t allow my grip around our children to weaken.

  Aleeha suddenly lifts her head and awkwardly removes herself from my lap. She runs at full pace away from me, up the staircase. A loud bang follows shortly after.

  “It’s okay, Reid. I’ll go to her,” Shirley assures me in a low tone.

  My arm is left bare once Brax’s grip is removed, and in a moment of sudden panic I snap my neck in search of him, only to find him holding Shirley’s hand as they walk past the police officers and begin taking the staircase together.

  I watch every step with a heart heavier than lead. “I can’t do this,” I say, my voice subdued. “Bring my wife home, please. Just find Morgan because I can’t do this,” I’m pleading as I make connection with West’s eyes.

  West nods.

  Dropping my head to the table, I squeeze my eyes tightly together and hiss between my clenched teeth, “Who the fuck are you and why do you want my wife?”

  The Wolf

  One, two, three, four, five … blur into black lines as the blades of the fan above me spin faster and faster. I smile. It’s a smile of victory. I have my Red. She’s finally mine. The last trophy. The last name on my hit list. The list that’s drawn in red lipstick on the dusty wall beside me. I can’t help rolling my head and running my eyes over each name.

  Daisy Malone

  Cheryl Riddell

  Donna Martin

  Sarah Pilcher

  Christina Monroe

  Elizabeth Shanks

  Lillian Catcher

  Alethia Warren

  Stacey Seymore-Beth

  Octavia Legend

  Anastasia Daughtry

  Katy Hodges

  Morgan Banks

  It’s truly a beautiful sight. Every strike through the twelve separate lines spell out my accomplishments. They also reassure me of my power, my endurance and my strength. “Huh.” They all doubted my intelligence. “You’ll become nothing. You’re nothing.” That’s what she said. The dumb fucking bitch whose eyes were the first to glaze over at my hand. I’ll never find a more beautiful sight as the one a woman expresses just before her last breath leaves her. It’s a mixture of fear, fight and realisation … it’s intoxicating.

  It only took two footsteps to catch her. Two. Dumb bitch should have seen me coming. I gave her the chance. I made sure those two footsteps counted and could be heard amongst the leaves. I’m a night stalker. My feet only make a sound when I allow them to, and I like to give my prey one final warning. One final chance. I’m in control of the game. I’m a hunter. I’m a wolf. I’m savage, but I’m also fair.

  The early morning is the quietest. Nobody knows about these parts in this bushland. Well, if they do, they haven’t dared step foot here. I’ve not seen a single soul in this area since I’ve owned this cabin and come to frequent here for the last five years. Well, not a single soul apart from my gamers. But they aren’t here by choice, no, they’re here because I decided they deserved their punishment. I laugh. It’s forceful and pleasing. These thoughts swirling through my head are the only ones to cause me such laughter.

  The smell of wet bark and composted leaves wafts through the open window and it’s what makes this place home. Sometimes I’m lucky and I get the drifting fumes of a decaying animal that’s been taken by another much larger, stronger and smarter animal than it. Other times I reward myself with the scent of decaying human flesh, but that only happens after I kill. I wait to bury my Reds. I wait because I want to play with the law. I give them a shot to do their jobs. They fail, miserably.

  It’s Detective Astin West’s chance to challenge me this time. Dumb bastard. He has no idea all these bodies are buried in his area. He has no idea any of them were even reported missing, I’m sure. Or that their faces are still plastered across flyers offering rewards and information of their whereabouts. If only each law enforcement agency spoke to the other then they could’ve figured this out a long time ago and Morgan would be safe and sound tucked tightly into her bed.

  I’m giving West his chance this time, because I’ve taken one of his residents, from his town, and apart from my first victim, Morgan Banks is the only person who has been associated with me for a significant period, and the only person who has been snatched from Rockhampton. All my other trophies were just little vixens who thought they could lie, cheat and steal from me during my travels. It’s a gift to work for a place that allows you a hefty business account. It also works in my favour that women are so fucking greedy. You promise them the world with all the fine trimmings and they’ll follow you anywhere. Even to a cabin in thick bushland. Women are fucking stupid. Didn’t their daddies teach them not to talk to strangers? A bellowing laugh projects from my throat at this thought. They are so fucking brainless. Dick, money and jewellery, that’s all they want. Love? Nope. They don’t want love. They want dick, money and jewellery, and that’s what gets them killed.

  I can hear her sobs as I look through the screen of the television set up at the end of my bed. Red’s curled into a tight ball and rocking on her arse. How pathetic. She was writing before, I honestly thought that stubborn wench wouldn’t have written a thing, and I’d have finished our game this morning. It seems she might have proved me wrong. She wrote just like she was ordered to. I’m happy about this outcome. I’m happy because we get to move onto step two.

  DA-DA-DA-DA-DA.

  Times up. The sound of the alarm is like music to my ears. I curl my right hand around the face of my watch and switch off the timer. One hour has passed. Red’s allocated time for her first task has come to an end.

  Rising into a seated position, I stare at her coiled posture as she rocks on the slab, and I smile. Game on. Twisting my neck, it cracks loosening me up. I puff out my chest and pop my sternum simultaneously. I’m ready to battle. The black ski mask is just to my side. I take no time to slip it over my head and roll it down my face. It’s tight to my neck and as I adjust its positioning, my finger brushes the top button on my black hunting shirt … it’s come undone again. What the fuck is going on with this fucking shirt? I’m quick to rectify the situation and slide the small button through the buttonhole. My arms strain against the soft mattress as I scoot on my arse to the end of the bed. Tilting the camera, I press the stop button on the remote beside it. The musi
c is mute. Lights. Camera. Action.

  “Red, oh, Red.” Taunting her is heaven.

  She doesn’t shift from her position, and stays huddled on the floor.

  “Where am I, Red?”

  Her sobs grow louder.

  “Now, Now. It’s just words on paper. Nothing to be crying about. You don’t have love in your heart anyways. You’re a monster.”

  Her head rises so slowly it irks me. We have much to do and she’s wasting my precious time. I thump my hand against the wooden end of the bed frame creating a harsh noise and she jumps. That’s better.

  Her big brown eyes are glazed, wide and swollen red –– they match the colour and size of her busted lips. I like it. There are so many lines streaked through the dried mud caked to her face; she takes the form of a lost and neglected doll. I like this too. Some of her hair is matted into a massive bird nest on one side of her head. It almost seems as if the strands have morphed into thick straw. I’m pleased. Her exterior now matches her interior … disgusting.

  “Please let me go home.” She’s not begging. She’s not whining. It’s a forced and strong request. Oh, we have a little fire in the belly. I’m impressed. I keep my eyes focused on hers and delay the shake of my head.

  Her middle finger rises as if being controlled by a winding crank. I fight the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth and glare at her. Sliding my hand across the sheet, I locate the remote and pause her image.

  She’ll never hear me coming. She’ll never know I’m behind her. It will be a sudden pinch in her neck and … I click my fingers. Her light will go out. Sleep tight, Red.

  Morgan

  The smell of bark and dirt are the first to fill my senses. The ground is cushioned below me and as I roll my head, I hear the crunching sound of leaves being torn and crumpled. Instantly, my cheek burns hot in one spot, so I shift my hand and cup my cheek to protect my skin. The need to wiggle my toes becomes strong due to a sudden tickling sensation alerting me to their existence. I moan as I twitch both ankles and then stretch my feet. God, how I ache.

  A kookaburra laughs and it’s the perfect pitch of hysterical human laughter entwined with maniacal cackling. I dart my eyes open, only to close them the moment trees begin spinning. I want to vomit. Let me off this rollercoaster. I’m not sure what’s happening. Am I dead?

  Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

  Leaves rustle.

  My feet tickle once more. I again twitch both ankles before stretching my toes. The sensation increases.

  Move, Morgan.

  I bend my knees upwards. It doesn’t stop the tickle. Something’s crawling on me. I jump upright and stumble until I’m lumbering forwards. It’s a sharp pinch and then a stinging sensation. I bend and brush my legs. I think I’m being bitten by ants. Everything is blurry and disproportional … I’m breathing hard … I’m smacking at my skin. “Fuck.” It’s a breathless deliverance of the word. “Get off me. Stop biting me.”

  I’m running. Pains are shooting through my spine. My thighs are burning. My mouth is hung open and bone dry and then I hear it, something is moving towards me. I halt on the spot. There’s bushland in every direction I turn. My heart pumps hard. My head pounds to its rhythm. I twist left then right. I’m searching for somewhere to hide. A thick tree trunk becomes my destination. It’s about five metres away from me. I can make it.

  I flick my head in every direction. I see nothing, so I sprint until my fingertips brush the bark of the trunk and I fall behind it, landing heavily onto my arse. Every breath I take is dry and hot. But I can’t stop breathing, I just need to slow the pace in which I’m drawing air. “Stay away.” My mouth grows chalky, my palms are slick from my fear and the words that were disgorged with force from within me.

  Mask. Long shirt. Long pants. Boots … they’re all coloured black. I stop when my eyes connect with his.

  He shakes his head.

  I snap my eyelids closed just as something comes hurtling towards me. It impacts my face hard. I open my mouth to scream, but the result is soundless.

  Help.

  I curl into a ball, sheltering my head with my arms folded over the top. I wait. I’m waiting for him to grab me. Drag me. Hurt me. He’s not. I’m still untouched. I squeeze my eyes tightly together and taste blood in my mouth, my body trembles in response, and all I can do is hold my breath. If I don’t breathe, maybe I’ll become invisible. I hear nothing. I feel nothing, so I open my eyes to the darkness my hunched body creates. I breathe slow, shallow pants. Something is pressed against my stomach. There’s a bulge where a bulge should not be and I’m now alerted to its presence. I take slow movements until I’m uncurled. The sun shines brightly causing me to squint as I try to locate him. There’s only trees and overgrowth that spreads far into the distance. He’s gone. I didn’t hear him leave. He’s vanished.

  I’m crouching when the backpack falls from my lap to the ground. This is what he hurled my way. I’m quick to unzip it and pull out each item. The bandage. The canister. The torch. The compass. There is no pen. There is no notebook. He’s kept my letters.

  I ran at first, I ran until my legs become rubbery and don’t have enough strength to keep going. Now I’ve been walking for what seems like hours. Honestly, I think I’m tracking in circles. The backpack, although containing very little, weighs a tonne on my back, and the sun is so raging hot it’s burning my skin. Sweat beads flow over my brows and drip from my chin onto my breasts. I need to keep moving. I can’t stop. I’m strong enough. I can get out of this maze.

  Turning my body towards what I think is a westerly direction, I push through overgrowth which is new to me. It isn’t any different in the way it scratches my legs though.

  “Fuck!” I huff, hopping toward a sturdy overhanging branch. Placing my foot into my hand, I inspect my sole. Another twig has pricked my skin leaving a small cut. I don’t bother wiping the blood sliding in between the webs of my toes away this time. There’s no point, because it will happen again in no time.

  Letting go of the branch, I take two steps and then something goes shooting past my ear. I hear the whooshing sound it makes as it whizzes by. “These birds,” I duck, thinking one has swooped a little lower than it might have intended. If I never have to be around another bird again in my life, I’d be thankful right now. I’ve no clue about them and I’m wondering why they keep coming so close to my fucking head. I continue to move in the new direction I previously chose. I’m beyond lost. I don’t know where to go. I just need to keep moving. It’s the only way I’ll survive. Or this is what I keep telling myself.

  Something goes zipping past my ear again, only this time it stings the tip in its wake. My instincts tell me to bow my head lower; I listen, then crouch down in the long grass.

  What in the world?

  I rotate my head in every direction. I can’t see much, or hear anything, but I elect to stay down at ground level, since it seems like the best option. I know he’s here somewhere. He might not make any sound and he may be invisible, but the hairs rising on the back of my neck as well as the feeling of dread flipping my stomach is enough for me to stay still.

  Thud!

  An arrow splits a groove into the gum tree directly in front of me. It’s poking straight out. The red bristles on its end have me swallowing with a hard gulp. Holy shit. Arrows. My body tenses at the thought of how close those previous sounds were. Full-fledged fright follows this thought as images of my brains splattering in every direction fills my mind. Anguish becomes the result of this vision and I cringe, as my body shudders.

  What do I do? I don’t know what to do. I begin to whimper, caught in indecision. My heart hammers at a rate that threatens combustion. I don’t know what to do.

  Thud!

  Another arrow lands in the tree to my left.

  I leap upright and instinctively run in a zig-zag pattern until I fall. I spring upright once more and scramble in as many directions as possible over a short distance. Arrows continue to whiz by me, one after another. I
hear the whooshing sounds and I feel the brush of air they leave behind. Either he’s a terrible shot, or he’s an exceptional shot and this is just to frighten the shit out of me. If it is the latter, it’s working because fright pulses through me and my heart tries to abandon my body, not wanting any further part of this terrifying situation. I duck, weave and even dive at one point to escape the artillery continually being fired my way. There’s no way out. I trip over my feet that tangle and my knees skid along dirt. I scream. I scream loud and then I lay flat and play dead.

  I can’t breathe and with my eyes wide I see an opening between two large boulders close to where I lie. Another arrow goes whizzing over the top of my head, and I know it’s another one because the force of the wind that sailed past my hair was much too intense to be anything else. I scurry along the ground, finding my feet just in time to launch myself into the small opening these two boulders allow.

  It’s a tight squeeze to wriggle into, but I manage to insert myself and the backpack through the narrow opening. I can feel the colour draining from my face as my heart thumps to a terrifying beat. I try to pinch my lips forcefully together to be as silent as possible, but my breathing is not co-operating and a small high-pitched squeal exits my mouth, one I didn’t expect. I’m forced to slam my hand across my mouth to smother the next scream that might follow. I’m crouched and stilled. One of my hands is trying to keep me balanced, and is pressed into the ground while the other remains pressed against my lips. I wait, for how long I’m not sure, but my legs cramp painfully. I know it’s not safe to stay here, but nowhere is, and I can’t figure out what to do. I twist my feet trying to alleviate the cramps plaguing me, but I lose balance and I fall. I’m falling. I can’t grab a hold of anything on the way down, and before I know it my side smashes against something hard. I yelp. “Ouch. Oh. Ouuuch.” I clench my teeth together and pant, trying to alleviate the pain in my ribcage.