by Mark Smith
By now Kas can hardly move her leg and I’ve finally convinced her to ride up with Willow. I wheel the bike beside them. We must look like a strange trio.
I decide it’s best to get off the road, so we turn down the track towards the hayshed. The collapsed iron roof and steel frame are all that’s left of it. The wire I strung across the gate to knock Ramage from his bike is coiled by one of the fence posts. It still makes me shudder to think about cutting him with the knife.
The familiar feeling of coming home has crept up on me. The only difference now is that I’m bringing two people—and there’s another one waiting for me. And I’ve almost forgotten about Rowdy. I can’t wait to give him a scratch behind the ears and to have him dance around my feet again. But I have to keep a lid on my excitement. I don’t want to get lazy and stuff up now. I have to stay alert, even though I’m completely buggered.
I take Willow off Yogi’s back first and help Kas down next. I’m beginning to think her injury may be more serious than a bruise. It’s dark by now, but I can hear her sharp intake of breath when she walks.
I ride ahead on my bike to check things out, finding myself at the top of our street in a couple of minutes. I can see all the way down the hill to the Wilders’ camp on the river. There’s no sign of movement, no fire, and I can’t smell smoke.
I stay close to the fences until I’m within a hundred metres of my place, then I move in for cover, crossing through the yards of the deserted houses.
I stop at our fence, lean the bike against a tree and check the house. Inching along the side of the shed, I give Rose the warning whistle and wait.
When I come in closer I see the back door is wide open. I whistle again.
‘Rose,’ I whisper as loud as I dare.
When the wind drops for a few seconds I hear a faint whining coming from the kitchen. Stepping through the door my heart jumps into my mouth. Even in the darkness I can tell the place is a mess: the table is turned over, chairs are broken and most of the drawers have been pulled out and emptied onto the floor. The whining sound turns to laboured breathing, heavy and nasally. It’s Rowdy.
When my eyes adjust to the gloom, I find him lying in the hallway, his body pushed against the wall. He tries to get up, but his back legs give way under him.
‘Rose,’ I call again, louder this time. There’s no response.
I scoop up Rowdy, carry him out onto the back porch and check him over. He’s been in a fight. I can’t see any wounds, but there are lumps where he has been hit or kicked. He looks so thin; he can’t have eaten in a week. His tongue lolls out the side of his mouth. I leave him there and get a bowl of water. He raises his head just enough to drink from it.
‘What’s happened, boy,’ I ask. ‘Where’s Rose?’
I lay him down again and go back into the house, checking each room. Everywhere else looks untouched; it’s just the kitchen that’s a mess. The bed where I left Rose is unmade, but the room doesn’t smell of her. I don’t think she’s been here for a while.
Rowdy is a little more lively when I get back out to the porch. He lifts his head and tries to wag his tail.
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ I tell him.
He whines when I disappear into the dark again. It tears me up to leave him like this, even for a short time, but I have to bring Kas and Willow in. They’ll be worried that something has happened to me.
Spooked by what I’ve seen at the house, I’m extra cautious and leave the bike. I find Willow and Kas lying in the grass together. Willow is asleep with her head in Kas’s lap. I can hear Yogi grazing not far away.
‘Where’s Rose?’ Kas asks. ‘Is she safe?’
‘She’s not there. It doesn’t look good. The place is a mess and Rowdy, my dog, he’s been injured.’
Kas sags. ‘She might be okay though mightn’t she, Finn?’ she says. ‘She might have run?’
‘It’s possible. Lets go down to the house,’ I say. ‘I know it’s dangerous, but we need shelter and food tonight. And I have to look after Rowdy.’
Rowdy’s still lying where I left him. When he hears me again, he struggles to his feet and hobbles to the edge of the porch.
Kas has tethered Yogi in the backyard. At the backdoor, she approaches Rowdy with her hand out saying, ‘Hello, Rowdy. Hello, boy.’
She scratches him gently under the muzzle, then behind his ears.
‘Let’s get inside,’ I say.
Kas picks up Rowdy and carries him into the house.
‘Is there food here, Finn?’ asks Willow, following behind her.
‘Yep, as long as it hasn’t been stolen.’
Inside, Kas and I stand the table up and find two chairs that aren’t broken. I notice one of the drawers under the sink hasn’t been disturbed, the one that had the torch in it. Sure enough, it’s still there. And working.
Kas and Willow are startled by the sudden light.
‘Bloody hell, Finn, a torch! I haven’t seen one of those for ages. You’ve got batteries?’ Kas asks.
‘Not many left now, but, yeah, I’ve got a few.’
‘What’s happened here?’
‘Dunno. I’m guessing the Wilders found the place, but there’s no way of knowing if Rose was here when they did.’
While Kas starts to clean up, I go out to check the food supplies. The branch across the door is still in place and the padlock too. I grab a few tins of baked beans. Then, while Kas and Willow look on in amazement, I cook the beans and serve them up on plates. I offer Rowdy some, spooning them into his mouth. He eats a little but then backs away. Kas has been checking him out, running her hand over his coat. One of his back legs is swollen below the hip and is sensitive to her touch.
‘You and me, Rowdy,’ she says. ‘Cripples, the both of us.’
We eat in the dark. I don’t want to waste batteries after I’ve finished cooking. There’s plenty of slurping and scraping of plates. When we’ve finished, I carry Willow up to Rose’s room and put her to bed. It still smells of spew.
Back in the kitchen, I can just make out Kas’s silhouette against the white of the wall behind her.
‘What now?’ she asks.
‘We’ll have a look around in the morning, try to work out what’s happened.’
‘What if she got away? Where would she go?’
‘Ray’s. But she’d have to…’ I jump to my feet and switch the torch on.
‘The map,’ I say. ‘I hid the map and told her where to find it. In the flour tin.’
I reach under the sink, pull off the lid and shine the torch inside.
‘It’s empty! She’s taken the map. She’s tried to get to Ray’s place.’
‘Who’s Ray?’
I explain quickly.
‘What if the Wilders have caught her? What if they’ve got the map now?’
‘We’ll find out soon enough. I’ll go out to Ray’s tomorrow and see if everything is okay.’
‘No, you won’t.’ Her voice cuts through the dark.
‘What?’
‘No way are you going to leave Willow and me here. We’re coming too. This place isn’t safe if the Wilders know about it.’
‘You’re injured, Kas. You won’t make it.’
‘Watch me,’ she says.
I fold my arms. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow.’
‘You can talk about it all you like, but Willow and me are coming with you.’
I’m too tired to argue.
‘You can sleep in with Willow,’ I say. ‘I’ll be in the front room.’
I lead Rowdy to the bedroom. I’ve hardly got the strength to lift him onto the bed. I lie down next to him and put my hand on his belly, feeling him breathe in and out.
Before I doze off, I try to think how long it’s been since I did this, lie here with Rowdy next to me, listening to him breathing. Before Rose, before the Wilders, before Kas and Willow. It can’t be more than a couple of weeks, but it feels like a lifetime.
In the morning I wake to the sound
of sweeping and drawers being replaced. It takes me a minute to work out where I am and what’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Kas has just about got the kitchen back to its usual state. She’s wearing a long T-shirt I recognise. It was one of Dad’s. Her legs are bare.
‘Hope you don’t mind,’ she says. ‘I just couldn’t sleep in my clothes. They’re so grotty. I stole some of your mum’s undies, too.’
‘No worries. Someone might as well wear them.’
‘I didn’t mean to wake you. I was up early and thought I might…’
‘You’re like your sister.’
‘Ha, she’d laugh at that. She was always banging on about me riding horses instead of doing my share of the chores.’
‘How’s Willow?’
‘Still asleep, poor thing.’
I yawn and stretch. ‘How’d you sleep?’
‘On and off. You?’
‘Same. How’s the leg?’
‘Stiff. I’ve had worse kicks before, though.’
She lifts the shirt. The bruise on her thigh is a deep purple and it looks larger than it did yesterday.
‘It looks worse than it feels,’ she says. ‘I’ve always been a bruiser.’
We are standing with the table between us. She drops the shirt and looks around the kitchen.
‘You been outside yet?’ I ask.
‘Had a quick look. No sign of anyone. Just Yogi eating up the backyard. I checked him over. He’ll be okay, I reckon.’
‘Bunch of invalids you lot. Rowdy, Yogi, you. Only seven good legs between you.’
She laughs, short and sharp, then sits down at the table.
‘So, what’s for breakfast?’ she asks.
I grin. ‘Come with me.’
I take her next door where I pull back the branch and unlock the door. Her reaction is the same as Rose’s had been: she hobbles between the shelves, touching everything, running her hands over the labels, stopping to read them aloud.
‘Heinz canned tomatoes. Edgell green peas, Home Brand sausages and gravy.’
‘Not my favourite,’ I say, ‘but Rowdy loves them.’
I grab some more beans and a sausages and gravy and usher her out the door. I give her the tins and ask her to go back inside and heat them up while I hunt for something else.
‘What?’ she says. ‘What are you hiding?’
‘Wait and see,’ I call over my shoulder, heading around behind the shed. The nest in the low cypress tree three doors down is full of eggs. I make a basket out of the front of my jumper and carry them to the house.
‘Omelettes for brekkie, anyone?’ I call when I’m back in the kitchen. Willow is sitting up at the table and claps her hands. Kas just shakes her head and laughs.
It’s the best breakfast I’ve ever eaten. There are enough eggs to make half-a-dozen omelettes, and with the beans heated and spread over the top it’s a feast. Even Rowdy gets excited, limping out to the kitchen and resting his muzzle in Kas’s lap. I open the can of sausages and he wolfs them down, licking the bowl for a few minutes just to make sure he’s got everything.
‘It’s a good sign he’s eating,’ says Kas.
Eventually Rowdy retreats to his blanket in the corner and eases himself down. He’s still in pain.
Willow has also cleaned up her plate, licking it for good measure. Kas laughs and does the same.
‘Soooooo good,’ she murmurs.
When we’re all done, we push our plates away and sit back, enjoying the feeling of a full stomach. But we can’t relax for long. We have to decide on our next move.
‘How far is Ray’s?’ Kas asks.
‘It will take us a couple of hours. We’ll have to get Yogi out to Ray’s, anyway—we can’t hide him in town. I think I should go and scout around first. Chances are Ramage’s men have tracked us. We’ll have to be careful. We don’t want to lead them to Ray’s. My guess is they’ll have camped up near the hayshed. It’ll be safer to travel after dark so we can rest up until then. Sound like a plan?’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Kas says.
‘Finn.’ Willow finally speaks up. ‘When will Mummy and Daddy be coming?’
Kas exchanges a glance with me and puts her arm around Willow. ‘Soon,’ she says. ‘You’ve got to be brave until they get here. Can you do that?’
‘How long for?’
‘I don’t know, sweetie. But I’m sure they’re going to come as soon as they can.’
Kas pulls Willow closer.
‘They’ll be okay, Wils. Don’t worry.’
I spend the morning checking around town, jumping fences and slipping through gates to get down near the river. The rest of town looks just like it has for the last two years, with the shops burnt out, the petrol station with its big yellow Shell sign and grass eating its way up through cracks in the roads.
My last stop is the platform above the river mouth. I need to see the ocean again. The wind is onshore and the waves small, but the big stretch of beach pulls at me like a magnet.
I make my way along the top of the dunes for about a hundred metres, double-checking that it’s clear, then I wind my way down to the beach. In the last of tea tree before the sand, I strip off my clothes and boots and run full pelt into the water.
It’s so cold I’m sure my balls are up around my ears, but it’s also the best feeling. I can taste the salt in my mouth and feel the water rushing over me.
I stand up in waist-deep water on the sandbar and dive under the waves as they jack up and throw themselves at me. Then I swim out further, to the unbroken waves. I turn and kick with the first one and feel myself being lifted and thrown towards the beach. It’s like wrestling with an old friend, tumbling underneath then coming up for air.
I enjoy the walk back in familiar surroundings, knowing the sounds of it, the lie of the land. I know I can outsmart anyone coming into my territory, trick them into thinking I’m going one way, then double back to watch them get confused. It’s only a small town, but it’s big enough to hide in.
As I cross Parker Street something catches my eye, something out of place. Over in the corner of a vacant block there’s a lump on the ground. It looks like a body.
I slip through the gate in the paling fence, which gives me enough cover to get close. I don’t want to think about the possibility of it being Rose.
I peek over the top of the fence. It’s a man, lying on his back. His hair and beard are matted with dirt and leaves. In the middle of his chest is a knife buried to its handle.
I climb to the top of the fence, drop into the vacant lot and crawl over to the body. I say body, because I’m pretty sure he’s been dead for a while. His face is white behind his beard and when I touch his arm it’s stiff and cold. I don’t recognise him, but then, with their long hair and beards, the Wilders all look alike.
Something strikes me as familiar, though. The knife. It’s out of my kitchen. The familiar adrenaline courses through me.
I turn away, take the knife by the handle and draw it out of his chest. There is a squeaking, gurgling sound that I never want to hear again. I can’t look at his face with its blank stare any longer, so I heave him over onto his side, then onto his stomach. It’s only when he settles in the grass again that I see the arrow, its shaft broken off, its head lodged in the back of his thigh. It’s one of my arrows.
My heart gives a leap as I realise it must have been Rose who shot him. I don’t want to think of her stabbing him in the chest, but I conjure up the image of her chasing him and shooting the arrow into his leg, bringing him down.
It doesn’t seem decent to leave him here in the paddock, but I’ve got no choice. It only takes me a couple of minutes to reach the backyard, where I give a whistle.
Kas appears on the porch and waves me in. I decide not to tell her about the man.
‘You hair’s wet,’ she says as soon as I step into the kitchen.
‘I went for a quick swim.’
‘In the ocean?’
‘Yeah.’<
br />
‘Is it safe?’
‘Why?’
‘Why’d you reckon? We could do with a wash too, couldn’t we Wils,’ she says.
‘You can wash here. We’ve got water; the sea’s freezing.’
‘The sun’s coming out. It’ll be warmer this afternoon.’
‘We can’t take the risk. We’ve made it this far; we don’t want to blow it now.’
‘What? So it’s okay for you to have a swim, but not us? Is that what you’re saying? What if we just decide to go, anyway?’
‘You don’t know the beach. You don’t know where it’s safe to swim.’
‘But…’ She hesitates and looks around the room.
‘What?’
‘It’s gonna sound stupid.’
‘Try me.’
‘I’ve never been to the beach.’
I can hardly believe what she’s saying.
‘You mean, never?’
She shakes her head.
‘How’s that possible. Didn’t you ever go on holidays?’
‘I’m a Siley, remember. The furthest we ever went with Stan and Beth was into Longley. That was it.’
‘What about before you were sent to the farm?’
‘I only remember bits of the boat trip. We were kept below decks. It stank of diesel and I was sick the whole time.’
It’s a stupid risk to take, but I do want to show them the beach, especially since Kas’s never seen one.
‘Maybe we could walk out to the point,’ I say. ‘There are some rock pools tucked around the corner that you can’t see from the main beach. I could take my snorkelling gear and maybe grab some abalone or even a cray. We could take them out to Ray. He’d love that.’
A smile spreads across Kas’s face.
‘But first we’ll have to get ourselves organised for tonight,’ I say.
We spend the rest of the morning preparing to leave. I tie two hessian sacks together to make saddlebags we can throw over Yogi, while Kas goes through Mum’s clothes and stuffs a selection into my old schoolbag.
While she’s in the bedroom with Willow, I clean the knife I found in the Wilder’s chest and put it back in the drawer. It’s going to be hard to use it again without thinking of where it’s been.