Catch Us the Foxes

by Nicola West

  ‘Shhh!’ he scolded.

  I slowly got to my feet and pulled my backpack on, trying not to make a sound. Jarrah’s eyes nervously scanned the tree line as he placed his satchel over his shoulder. I could see that his breathing had grown ragged, and I knew what he was about to do.

  A third scream rang out.

  ‘Jarrah, wait!’

  But it was too late, he was already sprinting towards the tree line.

  I followed Jarrah – I had to – but I didn’t want to. It seemed like a stupid and dangerous idea. That part of the rainforest was dense and steep, and it would have been easy for us to lose our way. As we sprinted over fallen logs and past towering fig trees, I did my best to remember the transient landmarks. But everything looked the same.

  And how did we know we weren’t running straight into a trap?

  The scream sounded again – as if it were right in front of us – and Jarrah jolted to a stop, slipping on the sodden leaf litter and falling to the ground. I was able to catch up to him and held out my hand. He sheepishly took it, and I pulled him to his feet.

  We stood in silence. Waiting and listening. Trying to muffle the sounds of our heaving breaths. We seemed to be heading in the right direction, but I was glad we were taking a moment to get our bearings. I strained to hear something, but the pulsing of my blood sounded like flowing water.

  Wait – no – it was flowing water.

  I pushed past Jarrah and carefully stepped over the hulking buttress roots of a fig tree. The further I walked around the vast trunk, the louder the water sounded. I placed my hand on the cool bark and peered around it.

  Behind the fig tree, a middling waterfall flowed down a series of moss-covered boulders before gathering in a pool at the base. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been there before. It was possible, of course. We were still on the Williamses’ property, and the rainforest had been my and Lily’s playground all those years before. Still, knowing how close it was to the ritual area made me uneasy.

  The scream rang out once again, so close that I felt like it was a direct response to my presence. But, when I looked over to where I thought it had come from, there was simply no one there. It didn’t make any sense.

  A strange feeling swept over me as my eyes scanned the landscape. There was nobody there – I was sure of it. Then what was making that horrible noise? I tried to tell myself that it was just an echo bouncing off the plateau. That someone – somewhere – was screaming in the rainforest, just not where we thought they were.

  It is an echo, my mind seemed to answer. An echo from the past.

  I was hearing the disembodied voice of one of the hunts’ victims. A ghostly impression that had been absorbed into the rainforest like the late morning heat. Those children were trapped there, forever – their screams ringing out for all eternity – and we were bearing witness.

  I felt someone place their hand on my shoulder and jumped out of my skin.

  ‘Look,’ Jarrah said, leaning in close to my ear.

  His hand stretched around my body, and my eyes followed to where his finger was pointing.

  ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head in disbelief. ‘No way.’

  CHAPTER 55

  ‘A fucking bird?’ I whispered, staring at the unassuming brown creature perched on one of the waterfall’s boulders.

  ‘Watch its beak,’ Jarrah whispered.

  Sure enough, at the exact moment another scream rang out, the bird had opened its beak. My eyebrows knitted in confusion as I stared at its fern-like tail feathers which had plumed before me like a peacock’s. It seemed unfathomable that a sound like that could be produced by anything other than a human.

  ‘Why the fuck does it sound exactly like a kid screaming?’

  Jarrah leaned in close and I fought the urge to distance myself.

  ‘Look at the tail feathers. It’s a lyrebird.’

  ‘So?’ I snapped before the realisation hit me. ‘Oh, fuck.’

  The bird sounded exactly like a child screaming because it was mimicking one. That’s what lyrebirds do. They copy sounds that they’ve been exposed to – collecting them like trophies to impress their potential mates – the more aurally distinct or striking, the better. I felt my hackles rise as the realisation dawned.

  I truly was hearing an echo of the past – a ghostly impression that lived on via the rainforest.

  ‘We should film it,’ Jarrah said, before quietly removing his phone from his satchel. ‘I’ll do it.’

  I nodded as Jarrah carefully stepped over the buttress roots, slowly inching closer and closer to the bird. Oddly, it didn’t seem to notice his presence and instead stared at the rainforest’s canopy as if it could hear something in the trees. The closer Jarrah got to the waterfall, the more slippery the boulders became, and I could tell he was struggling to retain his balance. I wanted to call out to him to avoid the moss but didn’t want to startle the bird.

  To my surprise, he was able to deftly traverse the area surrounding the pool of water and was in the perfect position to record the haunting scream. But just as he raised his phone in the bird’s direction, an ear-splitting boom ricocheted through the air. I watched in horror as Jarrah’s feet slipped out from underneath him – his back and head crashing down onto the rocks below.

  The lyrebird let out a final piercing scream and leaped into the canopy.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I called out to Jarrah. The question echoed around the rainforest, startling me.

  ‘Yeah,’ he groaned, still lying on his back. ‘Fucking thunder scared the shit out of me though.’

  It had scared me too, but only because I’d initially thought it was a gunshot and had been expecting to see Michael emerge from the trees.

  ‘Did you hit your head?’

  ‘Nah. Satchel took the brunt of it.’

  Jarrah started to sit up, and I began climbing over the buttress roots to get to him.

  ‘Don’t bother, Lo. I’m fine, and I don’t want you slipping and breaking your neck.’

  I appreciated the sentiment – I was definitely not known for my coordination – and Jarrah was able to carefully get back on his feet. I watched as he uneasily clambered back towards me, wincing every time he appeared to lose his footing. I noticed he was still clutching his phone.

  ‘Amazed that didn’t end up in the water or smashed against the rocks,’ I said, pointing at it.

  ‘Yeah. Still pissed I didn’t manage to hit record though.’

  ‘I’m not trying to make you feel bad,’ I began. ‘But you know no one’s going to believe us about the bird, right?’

  His brow furrowed.

  ‘I mean, I saw it firsthand and I barely fucking believe it. I know they’re good mimics, but that was – just – I dunno, man. It seemed so real, y’know?’

  ‘It was real. That exact scream happened somewhere in this rainforest, at some point in time. The lyrebird essentially took a recording of it.’

  He was right, but I knew that I’d never be able to truly capture just how convincing the lyrebird’s shriek had been. I opened my mouth to say something, but another huge crack reverberated around us. It was like the sky was being torn in two.

  ‘Fuck,’ Jarrah spat. ‘I felt like that one rattled my brain.’

  ‘I just hope the rain holds off,’ I said, staring up at the canopy.

  ‘Uh, I hate to burst your bubble, but you do realise it’s already raining, right?’

  For once, I was the one who got to stare at him like he was insane. I held my hand out – unsurprisingly it remained dry. I raised a sarcastic eyebrow at Jarrah.

  ‘Seriously, listen,’ he replied.

  I rolled my eyes but did what he said. To my surprise, it did sound like it was raining, though I’d just assumed the noise had been coming from the waterfall.

  ‘The canopy’s too thick to let it through here. It’s probably pissing it down in the clearings.’

  ‘Shit. We’ve gotta get back to the LandCruiser �
� now. The track was already super muddy. If we get bogged up there, we’re screwed.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Jarrah replied, his eyes wide. He began scanning the area. ‘I think if we head diagonally from here, we’ll end up back near the fence where we came in.’

  ‘No way in hell. We can’t risk getting lost. We’ll head back to the clearings and go back up the path.’

  ‘All right. But it’ll take heaps longer.’

  ‘Then you better get your fucking skates on, hadn’t you?’

  Before Jarrah had a chance to reply, I began bolting back towards the clearing.

  CHAPTER 56

  We managed to make it back to the LandCruiser unscathed, albeit soaked to the bone. It had been easier than I’d thought to find the clearings again and running along the ritual path quickly put us back behind the Williamses’ homestead where we were able to trace the tree line to our starting point. Though, having to climb back over the electric fence while sopping wet had been a worrying prospect. Thankfully, the electricity was still off.

  Once we reached the LandCruiser, we were relieved to find that it wasn’t bogged and were able to drive back along the fire trail to the gate. The fog had fully cleared by then, and the rain had driven away any tourists, so we were able to get out undetected. We’d left a pretty damning set of tyre tracks, but even if someone saw them I doubted that they’d be given a second thought.

  Jarrah and I were surprisingly untalkative as we drove back down Saddleback’s peak and headed towards Swamp Road. It was like the second we shut the gate behind us, the gravity of what we’d seen hit us. I was struck by a strange feeling of guilt for having wanted to see the things we saw. Like it made me culpable for what had happened there.

  I imagined Jarrah was thinking the exact same thing as he silently stared out the window at the rolling fields of Jamberoo’s outskirts. In the paddocks, the cows clustered in the rain. We’d both wanted it to be true. We’d both wanted that proof. Sure, it was to vindicate Lily, but what the fuck did that say about us?

  ‘There’s one thing I don’t get,’ I said, finally breaking the silence.

  ‘Only one?’ Jarrah asked, turning to face me.

  ‘Well, the main one, I guess.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This has been happening for decades, right?’

  ‘Yeah. Lily said that families like the Williamses and the Roses brought the rites over when they migrated here. It’s been happening since the town was formed.’

  ‘And she said they sacrifice a child once each cult member has completed eight hunts?’

  In my peripheral vision, I could see that Jarrah was nodding.

  ‘So,’ I began, ‘that’s potentially one child murdered for every person on Lily’s list. Every single one is of age, they should have received their eighth marking by now.’

  ‘I mean, excluding people like your dad, remember?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I nodded. ‘But even excluding, say, a third of them – which from what Lily described seems pretty generous – you still have to count all the ones who came before them. Parents and grandparents who have long since passed away, y’know? Former family lines that died out and stuff? That list isn’t conclusive.’

  ‘I don’t get what you’re trying to say.’

  ‘I mean, that’s a lot of murdered children over the years, but the numbers just don’t add up.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘When you were in the police station back in the day,’ I began, ‘in that little waiting room where they keep people?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Do you remember the missing person posters on the walls?’

  ‘Uh, no. I mean, I was kind of distracted by the systemic forms of oppression being perpetrated against me by an inherently xenophobic police force.’

  ‘Fuck, Jarrah,’ I said, looking at him sombrely. ‘I think about that day a lot. I should have said something, tried to back you up or –’

  ‘Ugh. Can you please not do this? I should be able to say what I want to say without you making it about yourself.’

  I opened my mouth to say something, but he continued.

  ‘Look, the police force is fucked, this town is fucked and your father is fucked – albeit far more than I originally thought. But none of that is your fault, okay? I don’t want or need your sympathy, and I shouldn’t have to be the one who makes you feel better about yourself.’

  ‘I’m really sor–’

  ‘Just drop it, Lo,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Anyway, what were you saying? Missing person posters?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, trying to recollect my thoughts. ‘The station’s covered in them. Which seems odd, y’know, because Kiama’s so tiny? But that’s the thing, they’re not just for Kiama. And not even just the Illawarra. They’re from the whole of New South Wales – and even a few from around the country. And, out of all those posters, kids make up the tiniest percentage.’

  I could see Jarrah nodding to himself.

  ‘Kids do go missing,’ I continued. ‘Even local kids. But they’re pretty much always found in a couple of days. Alive. They’ve either run away from home or been taken by a family member during a custody battle. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I just don’t understand how that many kids could have been taken and killed without anyone noticing.’

  ‘I thought Lily had a pretty good theory about where they sourced the victims, didn’t you?’

  ‘What theory?’

  ‘Oh shit, did she not put that in the journals?’

  I shook my head. I had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘You know Lily thought Michael and Sharon weren’t her real parents, right?’ Jarrah asked.

  I wrinkled my brow, still keeping my eyes on the slippery road. ‘I know everyone in town thought she was adopted because Sharon couldn’t have kids. But I never heard Lily mention it herself.’

  ‘Yeah, well, growing up I don’t think she ever believed it – or at least, never said that she did. I think maybe she was suspicious of it to some degree – like a niggling feeling at the back of her mind. But, when she went off the meds, she gained a lot of clarity about stuff. And that ended up being one of the first things that she questioned.’

  ‘I mean, sure, she looks nothing like her parents, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot. I sure as hell don’t look like anything my dad.’ I paused. ‘Thank god.’

  ‘Yeah, but do you look like your mum?’

  ‘What? Like a charred corpse?’

  ‘Jesus Christ, Lo. That’s fucked up, even for you.’

  ‘So sensitive! She’s my dead mum, I’m allowed to make corpse jokes – it’s literally all I have of her.’

  ‘Well, in that case, I’ve been meaning to ask you some stuff about her but didn’t want to bring it up because I assumed it was a touchy subject. What was her name again?’

  ‘Tabitha.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ He nodded. ‘And she died when you were – what – in infants school?’

  ‘Mmm-hmm. Admittedly, I don’t remember a whole heap from around that time though.’

  ‘Do you think it could have had something to do with all this?’

  ‘With what?’

  ‘Y’know… this. If she was murdered because of her involv–’

  ‘Jesus, are you asking me if my mum was in the cult?’

  ‘I mean, it would explain why you had memories of –’

  ‘Jarrah, I explained that,’ I snapped. ‘They weren’t fucking memories, okay? Lily submitted a drawing of the cult to the show’s art competition, and I saw it the day before she died. It was the only reason I knew what you were talking about.’

  ‘Yeah, b–’

  ‘And besides, my mum died in a bloody car accident. There wasn’t anything nefarious about it. She was burned alive when she crashed on the Kiama Bends. She wasn’t the first, and she wasn’t the last.’

  ‘Oh, shit. Yeah, I’d forgotten,’ he sheepishly admitted. ‘The black spot, right? Heaps of people have died there over
the years. You’d think they’d bloody do something about it.’

  ‘I mean, it hasn’t formally been deemed a black spot yet,’ I corrected. ‘Apparently even more people need to be killed there before the council is granted government funding to even try and fix it.’

  ‘Now that’s fucked up.’

  ‘Yup.’

  An awkward silence hung in the air.

  ‘But, um, did you look like her before then?’ Jarrah asked. ‘Before the accident, I mean?’

  ‘I dunno.’ I sighed. ‘People who knew her say that I do. But, when I look at photos and stuff, I don’t see it. She was, like, really beautiful.’

  ‘Oh yeah? No way you look like her, then. Maybe you’re adopted too?’

  I gave him the finger without taking my eyes off the road. He laughed loudly.

  ‘I mean, I wish I’d been adopted,’ I admitted. ‘Especially after learning all this. Maybe that’s why Lily wanted to believe she was adopted too.’

  ‘Nah, she had memories of really suss stuff. She didn’t even think she was formally adopted. She thought she was stolen from her birth mother.’

  ‘Like, kidnapped? I’ve seen photos of us together as babies, so I really don’t think that’s the case.’

  ‘She thought she was taken from the hospital just after she was born. She said that’s how they sourced the children in the hunts.’

  ‘But surely the public would have heard about that, right? Even if the cops were somehow covering it up, how could they shut that many mothers up?’

  ‘Think about it, Lo. There are potential scenarios where a woman wouldn’t speak up.’

  I still wasn’t getting it. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Well, for starters, what if the mother was already giving the child away – either by choice or force or coercion? Like, what if she was deemed unfit to keep the child? Maybe by a certain psychiatrist we both know?’

  ‘Shit. Is that what Lily thought was happening?’