She guesses he is right on that score as they continue lurching their way across the country. As predicted, the track peters out. They may have finally left the property but there is no way to tell. The rocky areas slow progress to a crawl and they have to pick their way gingerly over rocks to avoid puncturing a sidewall.
Alex has been quiet for a while. “Decker’s son is a little shit, evil!” she announces unexpectedly, in a bitter tone. She obviously wants to share more of her past. Perhaps it is the isolation loosening the stones of her fortress.
“I had ducks and ducklings once. I intended to keep the dogs in a pen for a while until they were trained and told that little shit not to let them out. He opened the gate and they tore them to shreds. Not the dog’s fault, they were natural hunters. He did it deliberately just to see what would happen. I found him laughing, enjoying the spectacle, even stomping on one of the ducklings himself. I grabbed him and could have killed him but his father came back. Jesse told Decker and watched as he gave me a good beating in return, laughing and egging him on. Bastards, both!”
Jed is horrified but doesn’t say anything. He can’t imagine the spectacle.
She continues, as if wanting to spit out something held inside for a long time. “All this happened over a period of only a few months, once I decided to get him out of my life. I was breaking away and knew he was going to kill me. His own mother even warned me. The police couldn’t do anything as he hadn’t yet committed a crime that could be proven.”
They come to another channel crossing, this one wider, muddier and trickier. Jed repeats the crossing procedure, finding a way across further along. This time when he takes the lip off both sides of the bank, he uses the entrenching tool.
Alex notices the change from the knife. While she doesn’t say anything, she notes that he seems prepared to listen to a suggestion. A good point, she allows.
Once they get moving again, she continues to relive the past. “It got to the stage where he was even more psycho. I went out one night and when I came back he abused me, threw me down on the ground, pulled off my shoe and smashed my big toe with a hammer. I wanted to scream with the pain but didn’t give him the satisfaction, so he smashed the rest as well. To make sure I stayed at home and didn’t go out without him, he said.”
Jed is stunned, but keeps silent. Now he can understand the damage to her right foot. He concentrates on easing the Landcruiser through the scrub while Alex unloads. “That cop I mentioned, I was a bit harsh on him. He was the only one who believed me but had his own problems and overstepped the mark. He wanted what I couldn’t give. At least he tried to get some surveillance going. Decker came to my place one night and threatened to kill my horses if I went to the police. I got out of the house and he took shots at me but I hid in the bush. He was only a few steps away from me one time when he was searching but I lay quiet until he left. Once the anger left him, it wasn’t quite so bad. I lasted the night in the bush, but I decided to kill him and contacted Chelavenki.”
Here it comes, Jed thinks. The connection!
“He got me a .308, Remington, semi-automatic, with a big scope,” Alex spits out. “I heard him drive in one night and was going to shoot him as he came in the door and then put two in the ceiling just like David, the cop, told me to do. But I heard two doors slam and knew he had brought someone with him so I ran.”
They keep crawling slowly across the landscape. Its challenges have slowed them to an average of less than ten kilometres in the hour. They are travelling through red, rocky jump-up country and scattered woodland spread across savannah grassland with a hint of the dull-green swamp to come on the horizon as they crest the slight ridges. It is a landscape that opens the soul and Alex has succumbed to its subtle influence.
Jed keeps his comments to a minimum but can’t help himself. “The Remington, did it have a detachable magazine, a short barrel and a safety button near the trigger?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“A Remington Woodsmaster carbine, probably with a four-power scope,” he replies, imagining her standing with that ready to kill Decker. “A nice rifle, used to have one,” he finishes in a non-judgemental tone. So that’s what Chelavenki supplied her with! He certainly had the contacts to do that anywhere in the world.
“It gave me comfort at night at least. I would have used it too. In the end I tried the courts but he just ignored the restraining order. He would break in any time he liked and take what he wanted. He was after the tapes when he made threats over the phone. He can be clever, but he should have thought that making threats to an answering machine would leave a record. I used to replace the tape with an empty one just in case.”
Jed is building up a picture involving a clash between two strong personalities, one a sociopath and the other… He can’t put a label on it. What is the term for someone with high intelligence and extreme intuitiveness? Eccentric? As she slips back into reflective silence, he dredges deep into his memory. He recalls that eccentricity is the outward expression of unique creativity. It stems from a mind so original it doesn’t conform to societal norms. Many of history’s most brilliant minds displayed unusual behaviors and habits. Eccentrics are non-conforming and idealistic with intense curiosity. They are highly intelligent and know from an early age they are different from others. They can be opinionated and outspoken, with strong moral obligations and a mischievous sense of humor. He looks across at Alex and decides the description fits pretty well.
“Finally I went to court again. Accused him of assaulting me, but in fact I scratched and bashed myself up against a stone wall after dousing my body with kerosene. I paid someone to testify he wasn’t where he said he was and he went to jail. The judge, would you believe, said I was the only credible witness in the court when I was lying and he was telling the truth! Every time I told the truth I couldn’t get justice. When I lied I got what I needed!”
Jed can imagine her inner turmoil. Alex would always have been a law-abiding member of the community, for whom honesty and protection by law is a normal expectation of living. It would have clashed with the strong moral sense of the eccentric, but survival is a stronger driving force. He also starts to understand what is driving Decker. It has to be a long pent-up desire for vengeance. A sociopath will never accept responsibility for his own behaviour. His hate and desire for revenge will be directed at the most convenient target to blame.
Alex ceases talking and Jed has the sense not to break the silence. They pick their way across country and on one of the slight rises he stops to admire the view, three hundred and sixty degrees of wilderness with no sign of civilisation.
“It’s wonderful being here,” says Alex. “Deciding to find Karl’s plane has dragged me out of a secure but entrenched lifestyle.”
“Agree with that,” he responds. He wants to say, ‘Agree with that, baby,’ but his last slip has warned him off that. He scans the horizon all the way round. Behind them he sees dust rising into the air; it could only come from a vehicle. “Take a look at that,” pointing in the direction of the dust on the horizon.
Alex searches for what he is pointing at and studies the dust cloud. “Someone else is out here,” she notes with disappointment. “Just when I hoped we were alone.”
“Could be station hands or tourists,” Jed responds thoughtfully. “Let’s get moving and make use of the remaining time.” They climb back into the Landcruiser and keep heading into the wilderness. They both wonder who is out there behind them.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The day has been a long, hard slog across beautiful wilderness defending its isolation by jolting, bouncing and rattling both them and the vehicle. They finally bring the day’s travel to an end, finding a welcoming stand of shady trees next to a long, narrow billabong, once part of the channels taking wet season floods to the main river and the coast. Grasses and reeds line the edge of the billabong with leafy gums and Leichhardt trees clustering together around the permanent water source. Further back a long bluff
of rock rears up about twenty metres above the land, coloured with diagonal bands of red, pink and orange ochre. The face has been scalloped into concave shapes by wind and blown sand over thousands of years. The occasional cleft runs up to the top where a weakness in the rock has been eroded by eons of wet season rains.
As the engine cools and ticks away in the background, Alex wanders down to the billabong to admire its tranquillity. Jed follows quietly and stands behind her while she admires the scene. Brownish-grey water lays quietly under the trees, shaded to a light blue in the middle of the billabong where the open expanse of late afternoon sky reflects from its placid surface.
“I’d suggest you don’t go too close Alex.”
“Why on earth not? It’s beautiful!”
“Beautiful it may be, but we aren’t far from the coast. You just can’t tell whether a croc may be lurking in there. They travel a fair way across country in the wet and end up in some unexpected places.”
Alex takes a step back. “What on earth would a crocodile live on out here?”
“Wild pigs, cattle coming to drink, the odd careless tourist enjoying the view or swimming on a hot day,” he explains in a serious tone.
She looks at him in disbelief and rolls her eyes in pretend impatience.
“Seriously though, they’ll lie in wait and grab the odd cow, kangaroo or wild pig, as well as anything else that comes their way. A good feed will keep them going for a while.” He steps forward to stand beside her, taking in the view. “If one was in there, you’d never know until it launched itself out of the water and grabbed you. A three metre croc can take a cow easy!”
“On this point, I won’t argue,” she compromises, not wanting to concede a position. “It’s still beautiful.”
“That it is, but we’ll camp at least fifty metres back just to be sure. Let’s get set up and cook some food.”
Alex nods in agreement, so they return to the Landcruiser to unload. There isn’t that much setting up. Just throwing some swags on the ground, lighting a camp fire for effect and setting up the gas cooker on the small camp table. Since they have brought fresh meat and vegetables in the cooler, it is a stir fry with a bottle of red to enjoy by the small fire. The crackle and scent of burning wood adds a relaxing tone to the meal.
With the sun on its way down, hundreds of cockatoos start to arrive at the billabong to drink their fill then fly heavily up into the tree tops. They collect in the boab trees until their spreading branches and leafy foliage become a snowy mass of birds. Screeching conversationally until the last of the birds leaves the waterhole and then, on some secret signal, taking flight together. Their wings make a roaring sound as they pump the air for lift, then they disappear together to wherever they are going to camp for the night.
Jed and Alex talk for a long time about Australia and the history of the North until she brings up the day’s conversation. Alex watches the birds depart and sits thoughtfully for a while. “I shared a lot with you today. I’ve never done that before. Perhaps it is travelling through this country that did it. It was good for me. I’m sorry if I shocked you.”
Jed has mellowed with wine and food as tiredness starts to creep into his body after the exertions of the day. “It doesn’t bother me Alex and I’m glad you shared it with me. You’ve been through something I can’t really imagine,” although he quietly reviews his last relationship and the abuse he took, thinking he actually can understand. But he isn’t in the mood to make comparisons. “I’m a bit worried though. That bastard picked us up in Darwin, followed us to the air museum and Adelaide River and now we saw a dust cloud behind us.”
“How do you think he managed to keep track of us?”
That’s a very good question, Jed thinks. He doesn’t answer for a while, sipping on his wine. Finally he gets up, walks over to the Landcruiser and slowly moves around the vehicle. Alex walks over just as he drops to the ground, squirming under the vehicle.
“What are you doing?”
“Just looking,” Jed replies as he wriggles around underneath the Landcruiser, working his way to the rear. She sees the heels of his boots anchor themselves to the ground as he grunts and swears, tugging at something under the vehicle, then wiggles his way back out. He holds a small, black metal box in his hand. He tosses it toward her.
“What’s this?” Alex asks in genuine surprise.
“My guess is it’s a radio transmitter. The bastard’s been tracking us. Somehow he found us in Darwin and placed the transmitter after we hired the car. He’s been tracking us the whole time! He really wants you Alex!”
“Decker was in the army reserve and worked in security at one time. God knows how he got through any selection process, but he’s clever and charming when he wants to be. He always seemed pretty good at using computers and hacked a few things.”
“Bloody hell Alex! The military, security, computers, hacking—anything else you want to share about this guy!”
“Not that I can think off right now. What should we do with it?” she asks, raising the box toward him.
Jed considers the question. “If we toss it or smash it, he’ll know and we don’t know what he’ll do in response. If we leave it in place, we know he doesn’t know we found it and he’ll continue to track us. The odds are he wants you badly and maybe what he thinks might be in that plane. Did you ever talk to him about Fire Eye?”
“No, never! But I did mention I’d like to try and find Karl’s plane some day.”
“Did you ever mention finding the plane to anyone else?”
Alex hesitates.
Jed waits for an answer. When it doesn’t come, he prompts her again. “It’s important Alex.”
“My sister.”
She hesitates once more and Jed is about to prompt her, but decides to wait.
“And Damien,” she finally adds.
“Who’s Damien?” he has to ask. “Husband, brother, boyfriend, ex?”
“Just a person I live with,” Alex responds in a guarded voice, communicating her reluctance to elaborate.
Jed could have been shocked but isn’t. After the previous revelations nothing can shock him anymore, but he feels an instant urge to know more. A wave of jealousy surges through him. Who is this man? Do they sleep together? He wants to know more, but the image of Decker forces its way back into his consciousness and he refocuses.
Alex senses his unease. Privacy is important to her, but she relents just a little. “He’s my half brother. Got himself into trouble with drugs and the wrong friends, so I took him in for a while. It turned out to be longer than expected. He’s lazy, but harmless.”
So two people know what Alex is up to, plus any others they talked to. He decides not to verbalise his thoughts. “Decker’s obviously been biding his time. He couldn’t take any action against you back home because he’d be an obvious suspect. If he can get you somewhere out in the sticks, anything goes. There’s no law out here to help,” he says as he scans the horizon for effect. “No doubt he’s got a good alibi set up to cover himself.”
“I’m sorry it has come to this! It’s the last thing I thought would happen. The jail thing should have been the end of it,” Alex reflects with genuine regret.
“Let’s just think things through. He knows where you are, but doesn’t know where the plane is. He’s got the map I made but that has three likely areas marked on it, one of which happens to be almost spot on. Another is close to where we are now. Even with that, he couldn’t find it. He still needs to track us. The question is, how do we manage the situation?”
“You’re thinking like a principal again,” she judges. “Don’t get pissed off! In the present situation, it might not be a bad way to think. Any ideas?”
“Let’s review the situation,” he suggests as he puts the transmitter on the back seat of the Landcruiser. “You’ve talked me into finding your grandfather’s plane. We’ve concluded there may also be something valuable in it. You’re being hunted by a sociopath who raped and abused you. You we
re told he was going to kill you because you wanted him out of your life. He has military training and is probably capable in the bush. He has experience in electronics, computing and no doubt firearms. You wanted to kill him, but had him sent to prison instead because in the end your only option was to lie in court and fabricate evidence. He’s obviously been planning payback for a long time and probably knows about Fire Eye. Have I missed anything?”
“I think that about covers it,” Alex acknowledges in a sweet little voice, camouflaging her feelings. There is a hint of apology in it. “Any suggestions?”
Jed takes a while to respond. “I think we need to talk about our sleeping arrangements for tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Decker slows the pace to a crawl and pulls off the track so their vehicles are hidden behind a thick band of scrub. He delegates Jesse to organise the camp while he cuts a branch of leafy scrub and goes back to where they pulled off the track. He wipes their tyre marks with the branch and sweeps the bent grass back in the opposite direction so that as much as possible is standing upright. It will take more than a cursory inspection to find where they pulled off the track. He can’t do too much about their wheel marks on the main track. He decides to take the risk as the ground is fairly hard and they aren’t too obvious. Even this far out, there is still the odd vehicle track remaining from mustering, hunting or fishing activity.
He walks back to camp and the boys have already cracked a beer each. At least they have one out for him but he curses as he sees the fire they have lit in a hole. He starts to kick sand over it. “No fuck’n fire! No bloody smoke you bastards!”
“No smoke, no smoke!” Joe calls out as he runs over to stop him. “Small fire, good wood, dry wood, good tucker fire!” he adds as he shoulders Decker away.
Decker hates to be corrected, and hates even more being in contact with Joe, but keeps his temper. Probably won’t need the bastards, he thinks, we can do them soon. Maybe it’s a mistake bringing them but he has learned to appreciate good preparation. He looks at Joe with eyes so dark they are almost black, totally devoid of emotion. This bastard I’ll gut shoot and watch him squirm on the ground for a couple of hours while enjoying a beer! Bastard has it coming, bloody prick. “Yeah, good idea,” he smiles thinly back at Joe. “Let’s put some water on and get some tucker into us.”
Fire Eye Page 15