Jed has already paid and starts the vehicle as Alex leans forward to tuck her bag on the floor near her feet. He looks to his left as a white Nissan Patrol pulls up next to a fuel bowser, partly hidden by a camper trailer. He sees the driver and passenger get out and move toward the pump. For a few seconds he looks at the driver, then engages the clutch and moves off, visions flashing before his eyes—Grape, intruder, air museum. He turns onto the highway and accelerates through the gears to keep heading south, his mind working over what he has just seen.
As he leaves the town limits and builds up to cruising speed, he turns to look at Alex. “We have to talk.”
Chapter Nineteen
The Landcruiser heads for the turnoff that will take them west toward the small outback town of Cookara Creek.
“What do you want to talk about?” Alex replies warily.
“Back in Darwin, I mentioned the guy I had seen on three separate occasions in Hobart and Darwin. You reassured me I was just jumpy and there was nothing to be concerned about,” he says carefully as he focuses on the road ahead. Is it anger, suspicion, frustration or disappointment pulsating in his veins? He has no idea but whatever it is he doesn’t like it. What should have been an uncomplicated adventure is developing a sinister tone. “I saw him again back at Adelaide River. He pulled in behind us at the service station.”
“What did he look like?”
“As I said before Alex, a bit shorter than me, solid build but somewhat flabby, crew cut, round face, hard expression, no facial hair.”
She looks out her window at the passing countryside, obviously thinking as the kilometres roll along beneath them. Jed is impatient but doesn’t push her. Where am I getting this new found sensitivity from? Jed wonders momentarily. Then he shoves the thought aside. Stuff that crap! I want some answers!
The long period of silence drags on while Alex surveys the country rolling past her window, lost in thought. Finally, she turns to face him. “Decker. Nigel Decker. I lived with him for four years. Four bloody wasted years.” She turns to look back out her window.
He lets things be, concentrating on the driving and the landscape, giving her time to work through whatever is going through her mind.
Eventually she leans back in her seat and starts talking. “When I was young ... Not that long ago, mind you,” she adds with a trace of resilient humour, “I had a boyfriend who turned out to be a bit of a nutcase. A real nutter actually! Nigel got rid of him and helped me settle into a new place. He said he would stick around for a while in case he came back. I discovered there were two Nigels—the slick, smooth talker and the nasty, shifty sociopath. Nigel never left and soon took control. When I wanted to move on I couldn’t get rid of him. Can you believe that? My place, but I couldn’t get rid of him! Some bad things happened.”
There’s a story here, Jed recognises as he ponders her revelation. “How bad?”
“See this,” she says pointing to just above her right lip. “Punch to the face. See this,” she adds, pointing to the scar almost covered by make-up on the left side of her nose. “Broken nose! And here,” she continues, putting her fingers to the side of her head under her ears. “Broken jaw. There’s more. He was far worse than the first one!” She turns to face her window again and slips into silence.
Jed drives in stunned silence, not daring to say anything. Let her take her time, don’t push.
The silence between them continues as they roll south. He dares not break the connection that has evolved between them, as tenuous as a spider web touched by the early morning dew.
What have I stumbled into? What the hell is going on? “Are you feeling okay?” he asks, but there is no response.
He lets the Landcruiser eat up the distance, listening to the constant hum of tyres rolling over the asphalt. She appears to be asleep, curled back into her seat, the woman and soldier silently transformed into a sleeping child crying silently and secretly for protection. He looks across at times and sees her head roll with each jolt of the car. He thinks he can see her eyes open, but her expression is totally unresponsive. She finally stirs, shakes her head and fluffs her hair back into shape before settling back into the seat.
“I tried getting help but it was no good,” she continues shortly. “At first he just hit me in ways that didn’t bruise and convinced people I was unstable. I know I’m different and you can probably guess most people find me difficult. It’s no fun being born smart in this world, especially when you’re female.”
Jed doesn’t reply, concentrating on the road but listening intently. “Do you want to tell me more?”
“I tried restraining orders but he didn’t give a damn. He broke in anytime he liked and took whatever he liked. He cleaned me out of furniture in the end. A lot of good stuff! He killed one of my dogs and threatened to kill my horses if I went to the police.” She slips back into a memory before continuing, “In the end I did report the abuse and rape. I guess the police tried, but they had to work within the system, which wasn’t much use. One bastard came to see me on his own and offered to help, but he came onto me for sex. The prick!” she spits with vehemence.
Ouch! Jed’s stomach churns in disgust as he considers what that must have been like. No wonder she’s so bloody difficult to fathom! She’s a tough lady and has rebuilt her life but survives with a concrete wall around her with barred windows and security-controlled gates.
He looks across at her and wonders what it would take to build a bridge to restore her faith in men. “Thanks for sharing that,” is all he says. They roll on in silence.
Alex’s eyes are open, but her mind is somewhere he cannot imagine.
Chapter Twenty
Things are going smoothly so far and Nigel Decker is feeling good. The bitch and that dumb fuck headmaster are in front of them down the road. He’d needed a slash and some food and had sped up to make Adelaide River, catching sight of them just before they left.
Jesse starts to top up the fuel while Decker hits the power button on the laptop so it can boot up while he does what he has to do. When the hamburgers come he eyes the waitress behind the counter as he pays. Nice tits and arse! He’d love to give the bitch a roll. He pictures her squirming beneath him, maybe with a rope twisted around her neck for a bit of added fun.
“Smells absolutely fantastic!” he smiles charmingly with his most polite manners, indicating the hamburgers with a small wave of his hand. “We’re going to enjoy those!”
“Thanks!” she smiles back innocently, showing a perfect set of white teeth that flash in the light complementing her blue eyes and neatly tied blonde hair as she turns to the next customer. Decker eyes the curve of her neck and licks his lips. It isn’t the aroma of the hamburgers he is thinking about. He files the vision away for future reference if the opportunity arises. Back at the car, he passes Jesse his hamburger and activates the program in the laptop, checking the position indicator on the digital map. Just as he thought, they are down the road in blissful ignorance. Enjoy it while you can my little fuckers, he contemplates with expectation. Play time is coming!
“Let’s hit the road Jess! You can drive for now,” Decker allows with fatherly authority as he settles into the passenger seat with the laptop.
Jesse climbs into the driver’s seat, adjusts it to suit his build, and heads out onto the Stuart Highway, holding the Patrol in third for a while as the 3.0 litre turbo diesel drags the Patrol up to cruising speed.
“It’s not a fucking sports car!” Decker throws at him around a mouthful of burger.
“Just let me fucking drive and you play with that fucking thing!” Jesse shoots back, enjoying the chance to take the wheel. The Patrol is a big vehicle but handles the road pretty well for what it is; a big, solid and tough four-wheel drive loaded with everything they need.
Decker reaches down into the door pocket and casts a quick look at the map he lifted from the headmaster’s place. Fucking dickhead, he remembers, waving that stupid mouse-pricker of a sword at him! He’d have
loved to shove it up him nice and slowly but his time will come! He savours the thought with relish. He remembers all the headmasters he ever had and how they always picked on him. Maybe I should just do him and get him out of the way so I can enjoy the bitch. Just do him, but give him just enough time to see it coming. So many decisions, so many options. It has been worth the wait!
“I reckon they’ll turn off to the right soon. Stop when you see a turn off to Cookara Creek and I’ll check again,” he orders.
“When do we do it pa? Tomorrow night or the next?” Jesse almost pants with expectation.
“Take it easy boy, take it easy. You’ll get your chance after I get mine! We might have to wait a little longer.”
The Patrol rolls south, driver and passenger wrapped in their visions of the long-awaited pleasures the coming days will bring.
Chapter Twenty-one
Jed skips the first turn off to Cookara Creek and takes another further south, intending to shake Decker off their trail. Alex has come back from wherever she has been, as a long column of dust rises up into the sky behind them.
“Not far to Cookara Creek now. We could stay there but I have a better idea,” Jed says, trying to refocus her thoughts away from wherever she has been toward the never ending vista of rocky hills painted with hues of red, pink and purple and sprinkled with stunted, green vegetation. “Will you trust me?”
“Only with reluctance, mind you! It’s been a long day and a rest will be good,” she replies with a tired smile.
The mobile still has reception so he dials a number on the move with Bluetooth. To get to the coast they have to go through a property called Narraburra, an Aboriginal word for broken, rocky country. The phone is answered with a, “Hello,” from a strong, deep, outback voice, invoking images of cattle, horses, leather and red dust.
“Hi Stuart, it’s Jed. We’re approaching Cookara Creek and I wondered whether we could push on and camp for the night on the property?”
“Sure that’s fine! Got a couple of guest rooms you’re welcome to use. We had an easy day today and thought you might drop in. Just pull into the homestead and I’ll have a beer ready! The wife is away so I’m rattling around an empty house.”
“Sounds great. Look forward to it. We should be there late afternoon. Cheers mate!”
A few minutes later they pull up outside the hotel. “It’ll be polite to take some beers,” he suggests as Alex gets out and casts her eyes around. They are greeted by a scene of putrid dogs with weeping sores scavenging among upturned garbage cans, scattering the contents across the ground to poke through with their noses. Local inhabitants sprawl around, some too drunk to move out of their vomit. Foul-mouthed obscenities form a background to the surreal scene.
“This is the other side to the Territory, the one most people don’t get to experience,” says Jed with a hint of shame.
“I’m only too aware of it and I think it’s a shocking reflection on our nation. Let’s go!”
They enter the hotel to buy some wine and beer and sample the local scene over a cold drink.
“This spot was a traditional meeting place for the local Aboriginal people for trade and ceremonies. By the end of the 1800s, farmers, missionaries, miners and pastoralists had arrived. I think about three hundred Aboriginals live in the community just up the road.”
“You know, travelling with you is a bit like being on a school excursion,” Alex comments. Seeing the look on his face she adds, “But don’t worry, I actually enjoy it, so don’t stress.”
He is somewhat consoled by her comment but is horrified to think he comes across like that. He’s chucked the principal cloak, now it should just be him. Maybe the principal thing is starting to become ingrained, he reflects sadly, then shakes off the thought. They finish their drinks and load up the car before driving across to the supermarket, set high on its stilts.
“Anyone would think they get the odd flood around here,” Alex comments as she looks up at the yellow-clad, box-shaped supermarket on its steel poles.
“Maybe it’s more for the heat. Let’s grab a few things,” he replies, climbing the stairs.
They go through the shelves, taking a selection of what might be useful. They pay at the counter and go back out to the Landcruiser, then head off down the road leaving the town behind.
“That was an eye opener!” Alex offers. “I can’t help saying I’m appalled how thousands of years of culture has been allowed to become so degraded.” Her words ring with barely hidden contempt.
“Can’t say I disagree! Over time many good people have done their best to make it better without success.”
“It’s not the people themselves,” Alex says with vehemence. “It’s the systems and bureaucracy put in place that stop people from doing what they know is right and taking personal responsibility. Barrier after barrier is erected by well-meaning people with no real understanding and huge amounts of money wasted.”
Jed is intrigued by the emotion in her tone. She obviously feels strongly about what she has seen and the injustice. “Have you been in the back blocks before?” he asks with interest.
“Not really, but I know what’s going on. It frustrates and appals me! There are indigenous people with sensible ideas that would make a difference but they get swamped by an unresponsive bureaucracy focussed on its own agenda and empire building.”
“Our Aboriginals have many different cultural groups but are all a proud people. They deserve and need respect, just like any other indigenous culture. Unfortunately, if I was brave enough to say that white pride is just as valid as black pride or red pride, I would be called racist. With politically correct attitudes like that, the issues will never be addressed,” he finishes with barely concealed disappointment.
“They deserve better and should be included to help work on the solution, not have a solution imposed,” she adds.
“You aren’t the only one who feels like that,” he agrees. It is a topic that could keep them occupied for a long time. There’s obviously a lot of common ground to explore. They turn off the road and head northwest along a dusty track, each immersed in their thoughts as the kilometres thump and slide their way underneath them.
“With any luck we will have lost Decker,” Jed suggests hopefully. “He’ll find it hard tracking us out here unnoticed.”
“Hope so,” Alex replies, thinking for a while before continuing. “He’s a sociopath!”
Jed looks sideways at her but doesn’t respond, realising she is only taking a break.
“If you want to know a real sociopath, you just have to listen to them,” she continues. “Ask some probing questions. They’re quick to become angry at the tiniest sign of disrespect, whether real or not. They don’t give without reason. They always have an agenda.”
Jed waits in silence for her to continue.
“Social attack is what they can and will do, especially to a woman. They’ll call you night and day to tell you what crap you are. They’ll demand apologies. They’ll post your name on the Internet, call your boss or try to hack your computer or social website. They’ll go after your relationships, your name and livelihood. They want you to feel as low as they feel about themselves and worse. They will try to hurt you psychologically, emotionally and spiritually. They like revenge and are proud of the revenge they have enacted on others. It’s their pathway to power and self-esteem.”
Jed can identify with that but doesn’t give his feelings away. “You paint an awesome picture Alex,” Jed concedes. “From what I remember from my uni days, sociopaths are charming at first and may seem normal to everyone around them. They have an almost scary need for control. They will isolate you from friends and family and you will be tangled in their web before you know it. They will charm their way into your life and heart, then take complete advantage of you—your emotions, your finances, your intellect. They will make you think you are the crazy one. Your friends will start to see it first. You’ll be isolated from friends and family. They have no feelings or
empathy for others and are never responsible. Everything is always someone else’s fault.”
“You did psych?” Alex asks. When Jed nods, giving no hint of the personal experience that coloured his comments, she adds, “So did I. We have something else in common.” She wonders whether he has experienced it personally, but senses not to ask.
“Indeed Alex, a knowledge of sociopaths, both in theory and practice,” he replies.
She guesses he is referring to something personal.
“Let’s hope we really have left the bastard behind us for good. I’m enjoying being away on our little adventure.”
Alex looks at him reflectively before turning away to gaze out the window. “Let’s hope so!”
Chapter Twenty-two
Decker is worried when his prey heads past the first turn off to Cookara Creek but reassured when they eventually take another turn further south, heading back to the northwest. He doesn’t need another fright like the other day when they pissed off in the plane. He hassles Jesse to ease off and stays an easy twenty or so kilometres back, only checking occasionally to make sure they aren’t doing anything unexpected.
“Fucking bastard had me going again there for a while!” Decker announces to no one in particular.
Jesse doesn’t respond as he is too busy enjoying the drive and taking in the sights. He is the son of a sociopath, but with a different upbringing there is a good chance he could have made something of himself as he actually has his fair share of brains. He may not verbalise it but actually enjoys seeing the country they are passing through. Seeing it for what it is, not just looking. He wants to put these thoughts into words but doesn’t have the words or past experience to allow it. Instead he lets past memories come to the surface. “That bitch is going to pay! She clipped me just ‘cause I was having some fun with the dogs. But you got her back, you punched her up good. She didn’t try that again!”
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