Daintree

by Annie Seaton

  Jeremy coming back into her life had removed the emptiness that she’d carried within since Dad had died and she’d left Sydney. She knew she could even cope with the loss of her house with him by her side. She smiled. Despite the events of the last week, things were looking up. All they had to do now was get Wilma well and hand over what they knew to Troy.

  *

  Finally they turned off the main road onto the narrow track that led to Wilma’s place.

  ‘Gate’s already open.’ Jeremy slowed the car. The puddles on the dirt track indicated that it had been raining heavily.

  Emma frowned. The gate was clipped to the fence post with a short length of chain, and the large padlock was sitting on top of the wooden fence post. It looked like the chain had been cut. Wilma had given her the key to unlock it so she wouldn’t have to carry her things back up to the road. She narrowed her eyes at the tyre tracks in the soft mud ahead of them.

  ‘They’ve been back here.’ Fear crept into her voice.

  The motor roared as Jeremy accelerated up the hill past the gate and Emma gasped as the wheels of the large Toyota spun in the mud. A couple of trees flashed past her window as the vehicle slewed around and then stopped. The tyres struggled for purchase and the motor roared again but the large four-wheel drive didn’t move.

  ‘Sorry, that was a bit close for comfort. I think the back wheels have dropped off the edge of the track.’ Jeremy frowned and reached down to put the vehicle into four-wheel drive. He accelerated slowly but the back wheels spun on the wet undergrowth.

  ‘Damn. You can’t miss your meeting. There’s no phone service from here.’ Emma glanced at her watch. ‘It’s taken us longer to get up here than I thought it would. If we’re going to be late we can call from Wilma’s phone though.’

  ‘It’s not till one. I’ll make it if we hurry back. Look, I’ll winch it out while you run down and get Wilma’s stuff. We’ll be quicker that way. And I’ll keep an eye out for anyone. There’s no sign of anyone and if you hear a car get straight back up here. Okay?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I will.’ Emma looked down the hill towards Wilma’s cottage. ‘There’s no one there. They must have gone into the forest. Or they’ve already left.’ She tipped her head to the side and looked at him curiously. ‘Do you know how to use the winch?’

  ‘Do I hear a silent city boy in your tone?’ He raised an eyebrow at her.

  ‘Just checking.’

  Jeremy opened the door and came around to her side. He held a hand for her to climb down. He then led her to the front of the four-wheel drive where Emma spied the large hook on the front bull bar.

  ‘Ah, fully equipped.’ She looked up at the green canopy above. ‘At least the rain’s stopped for a while.’

  The smells of the wet rainforest surrounded them and the quiet was broken by the creaking of branches as they dipped beneath the weight of the rain. The moisture dripping onto the decaying mulch stirred up an aroma of sodden leaves and wet fungi.

  Jeremy dropped her hand and unhooked the winch rope. He crossed the narrow track and looped it around a large tree trunk on the other side.

  ‘Okay, looks like you’ve got that under control. I’ll go down and get Wilma’s things. When you get it out, drive down to the house. There’s more room to turn around there. If we hurry, I’ll be back in plenty of time.’

  Emma hurried down the track towards Wilma’s house, taking care on the muddy slope. At one point she heard a muttered curse behind her as the winch rope slipped down the tree. She stopped and looked back, but Jeremy waved to her to keep going. She kept her eyes ahead on the track from Wilma’s house into the rainforest.

  A strong gust of wind hit as she pushed open the door of Wilma’s house and flicked on the light. With it came another heavy rain shower and she glanced up the hill. The noise of the wind and the rain covered the sound of the engine, but she was pleased to see that Jeremy was back in the car and it was inching forward slowly. He’d be down here in a minute or two. She stepped inside and jumped when the wind caught the door and slammed it behind her.

  Wilma’s kitchen was cold and empty. The fire in the stove had long gone out; a scattering of ash covered the stone-flagged floor in front of it. A light film of damp covered the kitchen bench tops, but Emma resisted picking up the cloth and wiping it down. She’d come back up and air the place before Wilma was discharged.

  She walked over to the kitchen table and glanced at the unopened boxes of medication. She shook her head.

  Events of the past few weeks and Wilma’s refusal to take her medication had all contributed to the tension that resulted in her heart attack. The theft of her snakes had been the beginning of her nervousness and Emma was determined to set that right so Wilma had no reason to be frightened when she came home.

  Soon, hopefully.

  Emma turned and headed for the hall. Even though she had been a regular visitor to Wilma’s, she’d never gone anywhere but the kitchen, but Wilma had told her where to look for her clothes and toiletries. She flicked the hall light on.

  Emma jumped as a board creaked up the dark hallway. It was the house moving in the wind. She’d been jittery ever since Wilma had told her about the snakes in the spare room. That was another job to do after she’d collected some clothes and toiletries. Wilma had asked her to check the snakes, assuring her that it was safe.

  ‘Just check that the light is still on,’ she’d said.

  Emma would peek into the room but she had no intention of going anywhere near them.

  She swallowed and tried to push her nerves aside, but then a loud clap of thunder shook the house and the light went out. The sky had darkened and very little light came in through the small windows. She dug into her pocket for her phone and flicked on the flashlight app. Shadows flickered in the hall as she shone the light ahead looking for the first door on the left—Wilma’s bedroom. The door was shut and she pushed it open. She crossed to the chest of drawers next to the door and pulled open the top drawer as Wilma had instructed.

  A chain rattled outside. Emma crossed to the window, expecting to see Jeremy parked in the small yard. She put her hand to her mouth and her skin crawled. There was a white ute parked at the back of the house. She hadn’t noticed it on the way in because it was around the other side of the house.

  A man stepped out of the back shed and looked up the hill. The motor of Jeremy’s four-wheel drive was roaring as he accelerated. A rain hood covered his head and she couldn’t see his face. As she watched, he walked across and carefully placed two white plastic pipes like the one she had seen in the cocky apple grove in the back of the ute. He kept looking up the hill to where the LandCruiser was revving loudly.

  Suddenly he lifted his head and looked directly at the window where she was standing. Emma gasped and stepped quickly to the side, dropping her phone to her side. Her hands were shaking.

  It was Troy. Panic filled her; she didn’t know what was worse. If he drove up the hill he would come across Jeremy; if he came into the house he would find her.

  She leaned forward and peered through the side of the window, taking care not to step out of the darkness. Her heart was pounding and she gagged as her stomach hit the bottom of her throat.

  Shit. Looking down, she realised that the light from her phone app was reflecting on the glass. Oh no, she hoped that wasn’t what had caught his attention.

  Her hands shook as she shoved the phone into her pocket and she ran back to the kitchen. Where was Jeremy? If he came down to the house, maybe they could bluff it together and then head for town and figure it out. Who to tell? What to do?

  The handle on the back door rattled and Emma jumped. Biting her lip to keep from making any sound, she glanced at the door, wondering foolishly if she had time to lock it, and knowing she didn’t. All she could hope was that he hadn’t seen her at the window. The door handle turned slowly and with a muffled cry, she turned on her tiptoes and ran back into the narrow hall.

  Facing the cage full of snak
es would be easier than confronting him.

  The lowlife lying bastard.

  Shivering with fear, she wrapped her arms around her chest as she ran into the room opposite Wilma’s bedroom. There was an archway like in an old Queenslander, open to let the air flow through. She looked around in the dim light but there was only a mattress on the floor and a low cupboard. There was nowhere to hide.

  The silence was shattered as the back door of the house slammed shut and a gust of wind blew down the hall. The wind had picked up again and the trees creaked and branches rubbed on the guttering. She ran across the room to the window on tiptoe, her feet making no sound on the timber floor.

  Her body was rigid, every nerve ending tingling as adrenaline coursed through her. If she could open the window before he came up the hallway, she could climb out and run up the hill to Jeremy. Please god, let him have the car off the bank.

  Turning her back to the doorway, she reached for the frame, ready to pull the sash up and climb out.

  As she pulled frantically at the heavy timber window base, a hand snaked around her neck and pulled her back against a solid chest. A woody cologne filled her nostrils.

  She screamed as he pressed his hand over her mouth. She bit down in a reflex movement, her teeth scraping on a ring.

  Troy grunted in pain.

  She pulled away as he dropped his arm. Emma ran across to the other side of the small room, turned and backed up against the wall. There was just enough light for her to see his face. With shaking hands, she turned her phone on and hit the light and held it up.

  ‘Put the phone down, Emma.’

  She gasped as he walked towards her slowly.

  ‘Troy? Thank god, it’s you.’ She would play dumb. It was the only way she was going to get out of here. ‘Gosh, you frightened me. If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have run. What are you doing here? I . . . I’ve been trying to call you since yesterday.’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘I know. I’m sorry, Emma.’

  ‘Sorry? About what?’

  ‘I have to do this.’

  ‘Do what?’ She raised a shaking hand to her lips and almost gagged when she smelt his aftershave on her fingers.

  He walked over to her slowly, his face garishly lit by the flashlight app.

  ‘Give me your phone.’ His voice was hard.

  ‘Troy, you’re scaring me.’ She pressed her back against the wall and looked at him. ‘What are you doing? I need to tell you what I found out.’

  ‘Oh don’t worry, Emma. I know what you want to tell me. I know you’ve figured it out.’ The look that crossed his face filled Emma with terror. ‘A fucking shame that the airstrip is across from your place, isn’t it?’ He smiled at her and ice crept through her veins. ‘I owe you big time though.’

  ‘What for?

  Jeremy, where are you? She had to keep him talking.

  ‘Why do you owe me, Troy?’

  ‘For telling me about the palm cockatoos.’

  Fear coursed through her as she stared at him silently. Hyperawareness flooded Emma’s senses. The wind whistled through the roof and the trees brushed against each other. The smell of the rain. The cold running through her veins. Snakes slithering against each other somewhere in this house.

  She took a step forward, fighting to keep her voice level. ‘Can we discuss this sensibly?’

  Her shoulders sagged with relief when he walked past her, but he turned and grabbed her arm before she could run to the window. ‘The time for being sensible has long gone.’ Troy’s fingers pressed into her forearm as he led her along the hall. Emma threw a hopeless glance at the back door as they passed the kitchen.

  He grabbed the phone from her hand and shone it into a small room. Emma gasped as four pairs of cold, reptilian eyes stared unblinkingly at her through the glass of their tank. The bottom of the tank was filled with short sticks and a tree branch leaned against the back glass wall.

  ‘I’ll be honest with you. Snakebite isn’t a pleasant way to die,’ he said in a conversational tone. ‘I’m sorry it has come to this.’ His voice was soft. ‘Ever since you saw us at the airstrip that first night, I knew it would end this way. It’s ironic that it’s up to me to deal with you. The sarge didn’t do a good enough job on your brakes, Craig stuffed up last night. You were supposed to be in the house. And Jock Newby was supposed to intimidate you and the old woman.’

  ‘Jock Newby?’ Emma whispered.

  ‘Ah, not so clever after all, Emma. You didn’t figure that one out?’

  ‘Figure what out?’ She was so scared it hurt to breathe.

  ‘Jock supplies the drugs we used for sedation. But never mind that. Coming here today was very thoughtful of you. I was wondering how I was going to stop you. You’ve just made it so much easier for me.’

  Emma straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. ‘I promise you. I didn’t see a thing. I didn’t even know it was you.’

  ‘Not going to work, Emma. You know if you weren’t so honest, we could have been good together. For a while there, I thought it might have worked out. I’ll get over it though. I’m going to be a very rich man soon.’

  ‘I won’t tell anyone.’ She was clutching at straws; trying to delay him. Hoping, praying for Jeremy to get down here. Her voice shook. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

  His head flew up as the back door opened with a bang.

  ‘Emma! Where are you? There’s a car out the back!’

  Jeremy. Thank god.

  Emma screamed as Troy pushed her towards the glass case holding the snakes and then disappeared back out into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. She fought to keep her balance but her right shoulder hit the glass and the case toppled off its wooden stand.

  ‘Jeremy! Look out! He’s coming.’ Her scream mingled with the shattering of glass as the case smashed to the floor. She heard yelling and a loud crash from the kitchen, and then all was quiet. A soft swishing noise rose from the leaves on the wooden floor and Emma remembered the speed of the taipan she’d seen in her backyard.

  On all fours, she backed away, crab-like, from the mess of broken glass and small branches now scattered on the floor. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her hands shook uncontrollably as she pushed herself to her feet. She widened her eyes in the dim light and her mouth dried as she waited for a snake to strike. She held her breath, trying to hear what was happening in the kitchen.

  Was Jeremy all right? Why was it so quiet? Why were there no voices?

  But there was nothing—no sound, no voices. She bit her cheek, fighting the whimper that rose in her chest. Not game to cry out again for fear of moving the air and attracting the snakes, she pressed her back against the closed door, searching for the handle.

  The cold metal of the door knob slipped beneath her sweating palms and she turned it slowly. Ever so slowly.

  The door creaked open and she stepped quickly to the side, scratching her arm on the sharp metal of the lock as she pushed herself through the small gap. She pulled the door shut behind her and swung around, desperately searching for Jeremy.

  The kitchen was empty.

  ‘Jeremy?’ Emma called quietly as she stepped towards the back door.

  Where is he? Where did they go?

  If she could get out of the house she could make a run for it and hide in the rainforest. But fear for Jeremy’s safety held her back. Emma turned to face the darkness of the hallway. Slowly walking along the hall, she stepped into the kitchen, stumbling as her foot hit a solid shape on the floor.

  This time, she didn’t hold back her terrified scream. ‘God, no!’

  Jeremy was on his back, his head hard up against the metal leg of the old combustion stove. His eyes were closed and a trickle of blood ran down his neck. Gulping down deep breaths, Emma dropped to a crouch and put her hand on his neck, desperately searching for a pulse. A fast, thready beat pulsed against her spread fingers.

  She reached for his shoulder to pull him into the recovery p
osition, forcing herself to breath evenly and stay calm. She wondered whether Troy had made a run for it.

  ‘Come on, Jeremy, open your eyes.’ A sob tore at her throat. ‘Please be all right.’ At a glance it looked as though the blood was coming from his ear, indicating severe head trauma. She knew she needed to get help. Fast.

  A laugh chilled her blood and she looked up. Troy was standing above her. ‘No time to help your doctor boyfriend, sweetheart. It’s time to get back in there with your friends.’ His cruel hands grabbed her hair and pulled her head back as he dragged her to her feet.

  With a superhuman effort she pulled away from him and lunged for the back door. But Troy grabbed her again and shoved her away from the door, jarring her hip against the sink. A shaft of pain ran down her right leg and her knee buckled. She half crouched on the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

  ‘I’m sorry Emma, but I can’t let you get away.’ Troy was leaning almost casually against the closed door. For a moment, there seemed to be regret in his voice. ‘There’s too much at stake.’

  Emma shook her head, unable to believe this was the same man who had shown such concern for the environment, the same man she’d kidded herself she was attracted to.

  She glanced down at Jeremy but he hadn’t moved. Her determination to get them out of this situation, away from Troy, firmed inside her as hard as steel. If she could get to the phone she could call for help.

  Emma straightened her knee and pressed back against the sink, her hands behind her back. The curtain moved behind her fingers and a flash of memory seared through her: Wilma standing in this spot with the loaded shotgun, determined to defend her property and herself.

  ‘I’ll do anything you want, Troy. Take the birds, the snakes.’ She lifted one hand and waved to the room. ‘Although it might be hard to get them now.’

  ‘I can do without them. Those palm cockatoos more than make up for a few snakes.’

  Bending her knees slightly, she tried to hold back a whimper as pain shot down her leg. Her fingers scrabbled quietly behind her, feeling for the shotgun.