September

by Gabrielle Lord

  ‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘My partner runs the general store.’

  I felt a lot of relief at the mention of a general store. I could use the phone, buy something to eat and maybe even find a lift or a bus to get me back to civilisation.

  The prospector was parking the truck when I noticed that the scattering of vehicles parked in the street were really old and looked like they’d been abandoned too.

  We hopped out of the cabin.

  Snake looked at me and must have seen the confusion on my face. ‘The gold ran out years ago. The bank closed, the medical clinic closed, the shops started closing because nobody bought anything anymore, even the pub closed. The young folk all left town because there weren’t any jobs. And then, after a while, there were just a handful of old people living here.’ He put his hands on his hips and cackled his unpleasant laugh again. ‘Then they went, too. So now it’s just me and Jackson at the general store.’

  The store had some timber steps leading up to a dusty verandah, and a couple of dirty windows stacked with bleached-out displays of groceries and hardware. I followed Snake through the flyscreen door. A little bell jingled as we entered, and a dog barked.

  ‘Jacko? You here? We’ve got a visitor.’

  All the stock looked tired and old: stacked up tinned food with rust spots on the top and peeling labels. Everything was covered in grease, grime and dust. I doubted anyone had bought anything in this general store for a long time, thinking the expiry dates must have been dated ten years ago, at least. On the wall behind the counter was a map of the area, curling round the edges and spotted with fly dirt.

  I heard the sound of shuffling feet. ‘Who’s there?’ a voice called.

  ‘Who do you think it is? It’s me, Snake. I have a young traveller with me.’ Snake prodded me sharply in the back.

  Jacko stepped out of the shadows. He was a gaunt, bearded man with sharp eyes hidden under bushy eyebrows. At his side stood a huge black dog.

  ‘He looks OK,’ grunted Jacko. ‘It’s a long time since we’ve had a visitor. Meet Sniffer here. The best nose in the country, ain’t you, Sniffer? He can track anyone, any time, through any country.’

  The dog growled and stared with his brown eyes as the two old geezers chuckled. I looked from one to the other, unsure.

  ‘Is there a public phone in here?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course there is,’ said Snake, smirking. ‘Over there.’ He pointed to an old-fashioned red phone sitting on a shelf. I stepped over to it hesitantly and picked up the handset.

  The line was dead. The handset wasn’t even connected to the telephone—it had been cut.

  ‘Vandals,’ said Jacko, shaking his bearded head.

  ‘They used to be shocking round here,’ Snake added. ‘But it’s pretty good now, isn’t it, mate?’

  Jacko nodded. ‘Pretty good,’ he repeated.

  ‘So what about the phone?’ I asked. ‘Do either of you have a phone I could please use?’

  ‘You could,’ Jacko replied, pulling a mobile phone out of his pocket.

  ‘I’d pay you for the cost of the call,’ I offered.

  ‘It would cost you a lot,’ Jacko said, gripping the mobile in his leathery hand.

  The mean old storekeeper held the power. I wasn’t in the mood for games. Not after everything I’d been through.

  ‘Whatever it costs,’ I said. ‘I have to make a call.’

  Jacko looked at Snake and they both laughed.

  ‘OK, then,’ said Jacko. ‘Do you have any idea how much a telecommunications tower costs?’

  I looked at him, confused. He switched on the phone and handed it to me. ‘No signal,’ I read. I waved it around but nothing changed.

  ‘You mean this is a dead spot?’

  The pair laughed disturbingly again. ‘You got it, boy!’ said Snake. ‘You got it in one.’

  Here I was, stuck in the middle of nowhere, with two complete weirdos. What in the world was I going to do?

  The big black dog shook his head, making the metal tags on his collar jingle.

  ‘Is there anywhere else I can go to make a call?’

  The pair stared at me blankly.

  ‘But I have to get back to the city! There are things I have to do! Is there a bus? Do either of you ever drive to the city?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Snake. ‘I went to the city in …’96. Or was it ’97? Do you remember Jacko?’

  ‘What about public transport?’ I asked, increasingly frustrated with every word they spoke.

  I was aware that both men were looking at each other strangely. Something was happening between them that I didn’t understand. Like they were communicating without words. Then Jacko spoke.

  ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘There’s that bus that comes through in the morning, isn’t there, Snake?’

  ‘That’s right. Nice, solid bus in the morning. Only about a fifteen or twenty minute walk from here to the highway. Have you back in the city in seven or eight hours.’

  Who were these people and what kind of general store were they running? It was obvious no customers had been here for years. Everything was festooned with cobwebs and the dust on the floor showed no footprints but our own. I wanted to get out. But I knew I had to make it to the highway and wait for the bus.

  I moved closer to the map, studying it, analysing the scale. It showed Dingo Bones Valley township and a number of other small townships connected by a single road. That must have been the road the bus would take.

  I started walking out of the store. Snake called after me. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To the highway,’ I said.

  ‘Are you crazy? Nobody walks around in the middle of the day here. You don’t have any water or any food, and the bus ain’t coming till tomorrow. You’d be crazy to go now.’

  ‘And look at yer,’ said Jacko. ‘Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes! You’d be much better off resting for a while then setting off in the cool of the early morning.’

  I looked down at my feet, imagining the multitude of blisters I’d gained. I was exhausted, hungry and still thirsty. They were right.

  ‘There’s the boarding house across the road,’ said Snake. ‘That’s where I camp. There are plenty of rooms. Check it out and take your pick. Tell you what. I’ll even share my beans with you.’

  ‘Here,’ said Jacko, throwing a tin of beans to his mate. ‘My shout. And here,’ he added, throwing me a water canister. ‘You’ll need that.’

  I turned to go, aware of their eyes on my back. I heard the dog’s claws clicking on the dusty floorboards. He followed me out to the verandah.

  ‘Good dog,’ I said to him nervously. I was relieved he sat down while I walked away.

  The boarding house reminded me of the St Johns Street dump I’d camped in a while back. The grounds were nothing but dust and prickles, the timber of the upstairs verandah sagged, and the front door hung crookedly on its rusting hinges. I stepped inside and was grateful to find that it was much cooler out of the sun and the heat of the day.

  I went up the creaking staircase and walked along the top landing, passing several rooms without doors. Inside the rooms were small cobweb-covered beds and cupboards.

  At the end of the hall I found one room that looked a little cleaner than the others, apart from a pile of stuff in the old fireplace. I ignored the bad smell, knowing that I wouldn’t be here long enough for it to bother me.

  I carefully pulled my sneakers off. The mysterious letters and numbers on my ankle worried me. What did they mean? I decided it could only have been Kelvin who put them there. But why had he done it? I was too exhausted to think. I leaned back on the bed and fell asleep.

  I woke up shivering. It was a cold night, the opposite of what the day had been like. I pulled the crusty blanket off the bed and draped it over me. I noticed that there was half a tin of beans on the small table next to the bed—Snake must have brought it in for me.

  The sound of scratching pricked my ears. I froze, trying to peer into the darkne
ss.

  Rats. There were dozens of rats squeaking and scuttling around. They were too close. I could hear them rustling and fighting in the rubbish piled up in the old fireplace. The thought of rats running over my sleeping figure made me sick. I’d slept in a stormwater drain with fewer rodents.

  All of a sudden the tin of beans went flying, spilling on the floor. The rats went crazy. I moved back to the furthest corner of the bed. I couldn’t wait to get out of this place.

  Despite my tiredness, I put my sneakers back on over the strange indelible message written on my skin, and prepared to leave. I looked out the broken window. High above, dark clouds scudded past the moon, hiding its light. I hoped the clouds would clear because I needed moonlight to help me travel to the main road. Hoisting my backpack up onto my shoulders, I crept to the landing.

  I could hear sounds from downstairs, the old prospector moving around. I’d have to wait until he went to sleep. I didn’t want him knowing that I was leaving. There was something about him that was very, very … disturbing.

  I’d heard about prospectors going crazy out in the desert, talking to themselves and seeing things that weren’t there, and I wondered if Snake and Jacko had been affected. I looked around for something to use as a weapon—I wasn’t even sure why, but the atmosphere in this broken-down boarding house had spooked me. I tried to put the scurrying rats out of my mind and looked over the rubbish near the fireplace. I saw something long and white, and I picked it up and looked at it in the pale moonlight.

  It was a bone.

  Was it human? I didn’t intend to stay around to find out.

  One foot at a time, testing my weight on every step, I crept down the dodgy staircase. A couple of times I froze when the stair creaked, but nothing happened, and after a few moments I continued until I was safe at the bottom. Flickering candlelight was coming from a room nearby which I imagined was the kitchen, and inside it, Snake was moving around. I could hear what sounded like heavy coins or something being dropped into a tin box. Was he counting his money like some old miser, at this hour?

  I’d need to be very cautious getting past the door without him seeing me.

  I paused for a second, just beyond the half-closed kitchen door, when I heard him speaking.

  Was Jacko there too? I was puzzled and peered in. Back turned away from me, Snake was talking on a mobile! They lied to me about the phones!

  ‘He’s sound asleep right now,’ Snake was saying. ‘Hasn’t any idea we’re onto him. Just thinks we’re a couple of crazy old moonshiners.’ He gave a wheezy chuckle. ‘Crazy I might be, but I know reward money when I see it walking around! I’ll tie him up now and sit on him till the cops arrive.’

  Right at that moment, the door I was pressing against creaked open and Snake spun round to see me staring at him. A thick coil of rope sat on his lap.

  The prospector and I eyeballed each other for a shocked split second. Then he sprang at me, raising his arms, the rope stretched between his hands.

  I charged at him and he staggered backwards, then we both crashed into the kitchen table. He was amazingly strong and wiry and I fought hard to hold him down.

  Struggling, trying to get up, I grabbed the kitchen table, but I only succeeded in pulling it down. It collapsed and splintered, crashing down.

  Flying off in all directions from the tabletop, a heavy shower of rocks bounced off me.

  Huh? A shower of gold?

  Gold! Nuggets bounced off my shoulders, covering the old prospector’s upturned face, skidding around the floor, falling into his open mouth, filling the pits of his eyes.

  He thrashed around, trying to rid himself of the golden lumps, spitting them out of his mouth, shaking them from his face. I fought him as hard as I could as I sensed him getting weaker.

  But then his hand flew to his belt as fast as the snake he was nicknamed for and I saw the glint of a long, slender skinning knife in his hand.

  There was no way I was letting him use that on me!

  I fought back with all my strength, grabbing his knife-hand around the wrist, crushing it as hard as I could. He howled, dropping the knife, sending it flying out of my reach.

  Any moment Jacko would arrive and I’d be overpowered.

  Still straddling the heaving prospector, I leaned forward as far as I dared without letting my body weight lift off him. My scrabbling fingers connected with the knife.

  Stretching as far as I could, and risking losing my hold on Snake, my fingers closed around the knife. I snatched it up, swung it back, close to his nose.

  He went limp immediately; looking at the knife cross-eyed, then up at me with his desertreddened eyes.

  ‘You can always count on the kindness of strangers,’ he said with an evil smirk.

  ‘That’s enough!’ I said. ‘I’m going to stand up and leave this place, and you’d better not come after me.’

  Without taking my eyes off him, I felt around on the floor nearby with my free hand, and gathered up as many nuggets as I could, before stuffing them into my pockets.

  I jumped up and ran out the door. His voice thundered after me.

  ‘You can run but you can’t hide! Sniffer will get you wherever you are! Me, Jacko, Sniffer and me sawn-off shotgun! We’re all gonna come and get ya!’

  I ran through the black desert, never wanting to stop. Dead or alive, they were determined to get me.

  A quick glance behind me revealed torches flashing, slicing through the dark.

  I heard Sniffer barking and the voices of the two bounty-hunting prospectors, stalking me, hungry for my blood.

  Copyright

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  Text copyright © Gabrielle Lord, 2010.

  Illustrations copyright © Scholastic Australia, 2010.

  Illustrations by Rebecca Young.

  Cover copyright © Scholastic Australia, 2010.

  Cover design by Natalie Winter.

  Graphics by Nicole Leary © Scholastic Australia, 2010.

  Cover photography: boy by Wendell Levi Teodoro (www.zeduce.org) © Scholastic Australia 2010; close-up of boy’s face by Michael Bagnall © Scholastic Australia 2010; knife with blood © Anyka/Shutterstock; truck tyre and red dirt © Diego Cervo/Shutterstock.

  This electronic edition published by Scholastic Australia Pty Limited in 2012.

  E-PUB/MOBI eISBN 978 192198 861 5

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