Out of the Blue

by Pam Harvey

  E.D. knew the area like the back of his hand and Sean enjoyed watching the trees and landscape rush by as E.D. manoeuvred the bike along the twisting paths.

  Finally E.D. shouted something and swung the bike down through an open gate and onto a huge paddock. Sean felt the back wheel spinning beneath him and gripped E.D. a little tighter as the rear of the bike swayed slightly, but E.D. countered the movement and the bike quickly straightened. They drove around the edge of a dam, past a few startled sheep and through another open gate, this one with a cattle grid. The vibrations rippled through Sean’s body and silently he wished that E.D. would swing the bike around and go over the grid again…much faster.

  ‘Just up here!’ Sean heard E.D. call. They pulled up in front of a run-down looking house at the end of a muddy driveway. E.D. switched off the bike and for a moment the two boys enjoyed the silence around them. It had stopped raining. Sean shivered.

  ‘There’s something wrong,’ E.D. said, carefully placing his helmet beside the bike. Sean felt it, too. It was too quiet; almost creepy. ‘Byron?’ E.D. yelled. He walked up to the front door and rapped his knuckles on the wood. Flakes of paint fell to the ground. A flyscreen to their left swung noiselessly. ‘I’ll check around the back.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Sean said quickly, not wanting to be left alone.

  ‘Byron?’ E.D. called again.

  ‘You there, Byron?’ Sean shouted, feeling better to be speaking. ‘Byron?’

  Wiping the back of his hand against the glass of a rear window, E.D. peered into the gloom. ‘Geez, the place is a mess. If I didn’t know…’

  ‘What?’ Sean whispered.

  ‘Look at all that techno gear lying on the floor. I know he’s a bit of a casual kind of guy but I’d reckon he’d take better care of all his computer equipment and stuff.’ A loud cracking sound startled the boys; they spun around to see a big, black crow flying off into the distance. A small branch from a gum tree had snapped and fallen to the ground.

  ‘Is there someone here?’ Sean hissed, looking about.

  ‘Nah, mate. Crow just got startled by something.’ The boys walked around the house, E.D. checking the doors and windows, but there appeared to be no sign that anyone had broken in. ‘He’s probably a bit busy at the moment, what with all this UFO stuff going on.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Sean agreed. ‘Can we go to where I found this thing I showed you? The rifle range is just over that hill there,’ Sean said, pointing. E.D. glanced at his watch and picked up his helmet.

  ‘Okay, but let’s make it quick. I should be heading back soon.’

  They rode to the entrance to the old rifle range, pausing in front of a battered sign hanging from the trunk of a tree.

  ‘Look!’ Sean exclaimed. E.D. followed Sean’s gaze to the small man-made hill of the firing range, where he could see a couple of figures. They didn’t look like kids.

  ‘Weird,’ E.D. muttered, watching as the two figures slowly moved around. One appeared to be holding some sort of device, sweeping it across the ground from side to side. A metal detector?

  ‘Should we go check it out?’ Sean said, feeling confident with E.D. standing next to him.

  ‘Maybe another time, Sean,’ E.D. said. ‘They’re probably just looking for old bullets and stuff.’

  ‘But there aren’t any bullets any more.’ Slightly crestfallen, Sean hopped onto the rear of the bike. He held on to E.D.’s waist as the bike sped down the dirt road.

  What if they’re looking for something really important? Sean thought to himself, turning to take one last look at the range. The two people had stopped and appeared to be staring at him. Sean’s heart started to thump. What if they’re looking for what’s in my pocket?

  Suddenly he felt glad E.D. had decided not to investigate.

  CHAPTER 5

  Sunday

  ‘Not much further,’ Graham said, as his four-wheel drive negotiated another pothole on the road.

  ‘I haven’t been up here before,’ E.D. replied, staring out his side window. The terrain was startling. The recent fires had ravaged the vegetation and yet already E.D. could see signs of regrowth. There was a browny orange glow to the bush. Blotches of bright green sprouted from tree trunks and between their blackened forms E.D. could see small shrubs lighting up the landscape. While the lower sections of the tree trunks were black, the mid to upper sections had retained some of their original colour. Perhaps the fire out here had been more of a scrub fire.

  They came out onto a clearing and E.D. could see Teasdale away to his left.

  ‘We haven’t really opened up this area to tourists yet,’ Graham said, stopping the vehicle. ‘That’s why the going was a little rough on the fire tracks. I’m not sure a regular vehicle could make it up here.’

  ‘But my motorbike will,’ E.D said.

  ‘Exactly. Which is why we’re very happy for you to help us out with this project.’

  ‘And so this will all grow back?’ E.D. asked, looking around at the wasted landscape.

  ‘Eventually,’ Graham replied, opening the rear of the vehicle. ‘Fire is what the bush thrives on. It’s been doing it for thousands and thousands of years.’

  E.D. helped the ranger take down the large tubs of equipment.

  ‘The good thing about this part of the parkland is that we’ve got a variety of different terrains.’ Graham passed E.D. a carry bag. ‘You’ll have everything you need in there,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you the five different plots. All you have to do is take photos of each plot, measure the size of the plant, jot down a few notes on a form and take some soil samples.’

  For the next hour E.D. and the ranger worked on the first two plots. Each was exactly a metre square, carefully marked with small pegs. E.D. watched carefully as Graham completed his work on the first plot, though it was hard for E.D. to not fiddle with the GPS navigator that had been included in his backpack.

  Graham looked up at one stage and smiled. ‘The coordinates for each of the five plots are marked in your exercise book. You know how to use one of those?’

  E.D. nodded. In the bag there was also a water bottle, snack bars and fruit, a first-aid kit, a measuring tape and a camera as well as a collection of writing materials.

  ‘Okay then,’ Graham said, rising to his feet. ‘You think you’ve got it?’

  ‘I reckon so, Graham.’

  ‘And if you missed something, all the instructions are written out in the book anyway,’ Graham added, nodding at the book in E.D.’s lap. He looked at his watch. ‘I’ll pick you up at the same place I dropped you at one o’clock. Sound okay?’

  E.D. checked the time. It was just before 11. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he said.

  E.D. took his time with the first plot, making sure he completed all the tasks as accurately and carefully as he could. He measured the tiny plants three times each and took a photo from every direction as well as a birds-eye-view shot. He scraped some soil into the small plastic jar he’d been provided with and then filled out the form on the clipboard.

  Not a bad way to earn some pocket money, he thought, standing up, pleased with his effort. He noted the coordinates for the next plot, checked the navigator now hanging around his neck and headed off over the scrubland. The next plot was close to a creek bed and E.D. noticed that the growth of the plants in the metre-square area was much more advanced.

  It was when E.D. was on his way to the fifth plot that he noticed the caravan. It looked so out of place. E.D. remembered what Graham had said about how difficult and dense the terrain was. How had it got here? Had it been dropped in by a crane?

  Curious, E.D. edged closer, skirting around so he was approaching the caravan from the rear. There seemed to be some writing on its side. E.D. hoisted the pack squarely on his shoulders and moved further around the caravan.

  ‘No way,’ he muttered, finally able to read the letters: UFOSITE. He edged closer, confident that he had a legitimate excuse for being there in the first place. He got to the tiny window but it had ti
nted glass and he couldn’t see anything through it.

  How had the caravan got from the main street of Teasdale to here? E.D. wondered, surveying the area. He noticed a narrow track that led away through a grove of trees.

  The caravan was quite new-looking and there were a number of wires and aerials poking out from its roof. E.D. walked slowly around the van then froze. A small white camera appeared to be monitoring his movements. Or was it on some sort of program?

  E.D. watched carefully as the camera slowly scanned the landscape. Had he been picked up? E.D.’s nerves were suddenly on edge. Maybe he shouldn’t be here at all. He flattened himself against the side of the van and inched his way back to the rear.

  Now E.D. could hear a soft, beeping noise coming from the van. Suddenly the door swung open. At the same time E.D. heard voices coming from the trees on the far side of the flat space where the caravan was parked.

  Panicking, E.D. ducked down, rolling under the caravan. He held his breath as the voices got closer. They were muffled and indistinct, as though the speakers were talking in some sort of sealed container.

  He could see a pair of black and silver boots step up into the van. If he’d been seen by the camera, then they would be after him for sure, E.D. thought, squirming in his cramped space, trying to get comfortable.

  Remembering that there had been no window at the rear of the caravan, E.D. began wriggling backwards, coiling his legs and body up and slowly sliding away from the door area. Easing his body around, E.D. poked his face out into daylight, paused a moment, then rolled out from beneath the van. He jumped to his feet, then made a dash for the cover of a copse of burnt-out trees 30 metres away.

  Expecting a shout—or something worse—E.D. kept his head down. But nothing happened. He made it to the trees, ran another 20 metres then paused, trying to catch his breath. He slid behind a larger tree trunk and peered around. The caravan was still there.

  E.D. waited for his heart to settle then moved off and quickly finished the last of the plots. He jogged back to the pick-up point, surprised and relieved to find that he was still a few minutes early.

  ‘How did you go?’ Graham asked as E.D. climbed into the four-wheel drive.

  ‘All good,’ E.D. said, taking a large swig from his water bottle.

  ‘You look bushed,’ Graham grinned, clipping his seat belt on.

  ‘Thought I was going to be late,’ E.D. replied, resting his head against the seat behind him. ‘But I got all the plots done.’

  ‘Excellent. Think you’ll manage this job then?’

  ‘Sure.’ E.D. closed his eyes and thought about the caravan. Why would it be all the way out here? he wondered. Maybe there is something weird going on in Teasdale…

  CHAPTER 6

  Monday

  ‘Hello, stranger.’ Mrs Williams grinned at her daughter. ‘I thought you were never going to come out of your room.’ She stopped smiling and took a step towards Hannah. ‘Everything alright?’

  Hannah leaned against the kitchen door frame. For a moment she thought about telling her mother what Gabby had been like at the party and how their friendship had suddenly gone sour—without Hannah really knowing why. She used to be able to tell Gabby anything and Gabby always told her everything. Sometimes Hannah didn’t really want to know everything that Gabby did tell her! So what was the problem now?

  ‘Hannah?’ Her mum was waiting for her to say something.

  Hannah shrugged. ‘I’m okay, Mum. Just trying to work something out.’

  Mrs Williams gave her a quick hug. ‘Well, I’m here if you want to talk.’

  Hannah nodded and went to the fridge. She pulled out a cold chicken leg and munched on it while her mum continued with her baking.

  ‘Do me a favour, Han,’ Mrs Williams said, looking up from adding some flour to a bowl. ‘Go and see if you can find Sean. He was out this morning and came home for lunch but then he went out again. He’s been away,’ she glanced at the clock, ‘for over an hour now. I thought he said he was going to Emilio’s but I should have taken more notice—I was on the phone to your aunty when he left.’

  ‘Do I have to, Mum? He can look after himself, can’t he?’

  Mrs Williams gave Hannah a look.

  ‘Okay, then.’ Hannah sighed and went to get her jacket. ‘Did he go on his bike?’ she called from the front door.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ yelled her mum. ‘You’d better check.’

  Outside, the wind was cold but it had stopped raining. Hannah got her bike from the garage, noticing the empty spot where Sean usually parked his blue BMX. She zipped her coat up as high as it would go and headed for E.D.’s house. As soon as she got there, she realised that no one was home. All the De Lugios’ cars were gone, and there wasn’t any radio noise coming from the garage. Hannah knocked at the front door but no one answered. She stood there for a while, thinking about where E.D. might be. Then she remembered his job. Something to do with plants, wasn’t it? Well, that explained why he wasn’t home.

  Slowly, she pedalled back to the road. Where to now? There were lots of places Sean liked to explore—he was always off on his bike somewhere. He could be anywhere. Hannah turned and set off down the road, not really thinking where she was going. She rode for quite a while before it was very obvious where she was: next to the paddocks near Gabby’s.

  Hannah stopped. Sean wouldn’t have gone to Gabby’s. Not without her. Still, Hannah thought, while I’m here…

  She leaned her bike against the Hunters’ verandah and made her way to the front door. The door bell rang a deep boom through the house but no one answered the door. Hannah rang the bell again and then, impatiently, rang it three more times in a row. Still nothing happened. She stepped back and sighed. A movement at a window near the door caught her eye so she walked over and looked inside. Nothing. No one. This house was empty, too.

  Or was it? The curtain inside moved again. Hannah put her face against the glass but still couldn’t see anything. ‘Gabby?’ she called. ‘Are you in there?’ There was no answer. Hannah grunted, suddenly sick of playing games. ‘Suit yourself,’ she shouted through the glass. ‘I’m going.’

  It wasn’t far to Angus’. Hannah was so cross she rode her bike as if she was in an Olympic race and was there in no time at all.

  ‘Hi, Han,’ Angus called. ‘I’m over here.’

  Angus was in King’s paddock, filling his water trough. Hannah let her bike drop to the ground and waited for Angus to come over to her.

  ‘Have you seen—’

  ‘Wait until you hear—’

  They both spoke at the same time but only Angus thought it was funny.

  ‘So, have you told Hannah our news?’ Mr MacDonald appeared from the back of the house looking very pleased with himself.

  ‘I was trying,’ Angus grinned, ‘but she interrupted me!’

  ‘Me, interrupt you?’ Hannah frowned at her friend.

  ‘Only kidding.’ Angus gave his dad a quick punch on the arm. ‘We won!’ They both grinned.

  ‘Won what?’ Hannah folded her arms across her chest. ‘The lottery?’

  ‘No, the Rivervalley Stakes! The richest race in the state! Well, in the country areas of the state.’ Angus was grinning so widely Hannah could see all his top teeth. ‘Beauty started on the inside and didn’t catch the leaders until the final turn. But then the race was all hers—she flew through like she had wings.’

  ‘Beauty?’

  ‘Our three-year-old bay.’ Angus pointed into the paddock to where a dark bay mare rolled contentedly in a sandy corner. ‘Flash Beauty.’

  ‘And at last we’ve got some cash to spend,’ said Mr Mac, rubbing his hands together. ‘So I’m going into the city for a look at a new truck. Sure you don’t want to come, Angus?’

  Angus shook his head. ‘I’ll stay here, Dad. Then I can settle the horses for the night and you won’t have to worry about getting back so soon.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be that long.’ Mr Mac glanced at his watch. ‘If I
leave now, I’ll get an hour or so to look at horse trucks—I know what size I need. Then I might catch up with Billy Notting on the way home to celebrate our good news. He bred Flash Beauty—he’ll be rapt.’

  ‘Great idea, Dad.’

  Mr Mac gave his son an affectionate rub on his shoulders. ‘What’ll you do for dinner? Hey!’ he said, before Angus could answer. ‘Why don’t you have a pizza party? Invite a few friends over. Hannah likes pizza, don’t you? And you look like you need cheering up.’

  Hannah tried to smile at Mr Mac. He was a kind man, and she could tell from the look on his face that he knew she wasn’t happy. ‘That’ll be terrific, Mr Mac. We haven’t had a pizza party since last holidays.’

  ‘Okay! All solved then. I’ll go and ring your mum—just checking that it’ll be okay to leave you guys alone. I may not be home until ten o’clock. Do you think that will be alright?’

  Hannah nodded. ‘Should be.’

  ‘You’d better ring Mrs De Lugio and Mrs Hunter while you’re at it, Dad.’

  Mr Mac nodded. ‘Right. Then I’ll get going. What are you two going to do now?’

  Hannah turned to Angus. ‘I’m looking for Sean. He’s gone off on his bike. Want to help me look?’

  ‘Sure. See you at ten, Dad.’

  Angus took a while to get his bike out of the shed. He didn’t use it often. He had to catch the bus to school and on the weekends he spent his time riding horses, not bicycles. After he’d pumped up the back tyre and waved his dad goodbye, he followed Hannah out of the driveway. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘We’ll ride along this way and go past the rifle range. Maybe he’s there.’

  Hannah rode slowly and Angus had to cruise a lot so he didn’t get too far ahead. They travelled silently to the rifle range. There they stopped and looked out across the hilly ground. A group of magpies was squabbling under a gum tree but besides them, the range was empty. There was no sign of Sean’s bike. ‘He’s not here,’ said Hannah. ‘Let’s go.’