Fire Eye

by Peter d’Plesse

  “Bugger me good!” Charcoal grunts. “She should be tossed off by now! Bloody horse is a wimp with her!” He spares a fleeting glance at the pellet Jed holds between his fingers, slightly flattened from impacting his rib and coloured with his blood. His attention is diverted once again to watch the seduction of his horse. He feels Jed work on his wound, flicking out any threads from his shirt that would cause infection. “He’s worked out she’s the boss mare. It’s all in the attitude!” he announces in admiration.

  “Some would call it being the alpha bitch!” Jed says more quietly. Charcoal guesses Jed’s meaning and manages a smile as he fights the pain.

  Alex walks the horse, guiding him with the reins and her legs to change direction. Horse and rider disappear among the trees but they can hear the drum of hoof beats changing between a trot and a canter, then back to a walk.

  “The wound is clean,” Jed confirms as he cuts strips off Charcoal’s shirt to act as an impromptu bandage. “We need to make sure it stays clean until we can get some help.”

  “Good job!” Charcoal replies. From him it is an outstanding compliment. He’s tended plenty of injuries over the years. “We’ll find something to put on it when the lady goes.” His statement implies the matter is beyond discussion. She can have Thor. He’s never seen him submit to anyone, particularly a stranger, so fast. He is distracted again as Thor emerges from the trees. Alex reins him in, leaning forward to stroke him again and talking in a low murmur.

  “I can turn his head, so I can ride him! He’s a good horse, you’ve trained him well,” she says to Charcoal.

  Now thinking of Alex as an equal, he is grateful for the compliment. Thor is his best friend. They have shared much together. Seeing someone else ride him tugs at his tough, outback heart, but he knows Thor will be in good hands.

  Alex dismounts. “I’m ready to go back to the homestead,” she announces with confidence.

  Charcoal looks at her with deep contemplation. “Ain’t seen nothing like that lady! You have a way with horses! Got a better idea if you’re up to it,” he challenges, recognising her ability is not in doubt.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You go back to the homestead the way you came, you be behind all the way and too damn late.” His tone allows no room for debate. “There be another way. A good rider could do it and save time.”

  Alex knows he has accepted her ability as a rider and there is no need to discuss it. She looks up to check the position of the sun. Time is precious. “Tell me!”

  Charcoal can see her mind works fast. No mucking about with silly questions with this woman. He indicates a stick that Jed passes to him to use as a pointer, scratching into the dirt. “This be the coast,” he says, drawing a wavy line into the red soil. “We’re here,” marking a cross into the dirt. “Homestead. Track you came in on.” He pauses, marking the dirt and looks up to check they both understand. “Some of the boys are working here,” drawing another cross. “Round’n up cattle. Helicopter, a truck, maybe a couple of blokes with bikes. Should finish tomorrow.” He sees the concentration in Alex’s eyes as she estimates time, speed and distance in her head.

  He continues. “You head west, southwest to a jump-up. Cross just south of a high point that looks like a woman’s breast.” He draws the ridge into the dirt and points at her chest to emphasis his point. “Like a nipple,” he says again. “No offence! Keep goin’ same direction to next ridge. Bigger! Steeper! I done it on Thor once. Nearly killed me!” He looks her straight in the eyes and sees her ponder that information but not flinch. “Take too long to go round. Can’t tell you ‘ow to do it. Rains will’ve changed things. Trust the horse. You’ll find a way.” He watches her think it through and then nod slowly.

  “I understand,” she says in return. There is no bravado in her tone.

  They have no doubt she understands very well.

  “Once you cross the jump-up, head south, southwest. Be a few clicks to a tank. They be camped there. If you miss ‘em or get lost, head southeast until you pick up the east-west track. East will get you back to the homestead.”

  Alex doesn’t need the directions repeated but studies the mud map, running it through her head. She repeats the directions out loud as she points with her finger. “Only one problem,” Alex says decisively. “That’s a fair ride! It can’t be done without water.”

  “That be true,” Charcoal agrees, “But water there is.”

  “Where’s the river?” she asks, running her finger over the mud map.

  “No river. Wirrkuja!” Charcoal answers with an expression that expects them to know what he means.

  Alex opens her mouth to ask but Jed interjects, dragging knowledge from some deep recess in his mind. “I think he means there is a permanent waterhole—a cavity in the rock where rain water collects and lies for a considerable time, maybe all year round. He said wirrkuja, not jiwari, which is smaller and doesn’t last as long. You can get water without having to dig for it. Am I right?” he asks Charcoal.

  “Yeah. Hole in the rock. Covered with a stone. Water flows down the rock face in the wet. The second jump-up has a high point. You’ll find it right below, this side.”

  Alex looks dubious but Jed tries to reassure her. “Water is a precious commodity to the Aboriginals, especially the desert peoples. They have special names for the various kinds of holes, cavities and soaks where water can be found. They have to be precise when talking about water sources as their lives depend on going to the right place at the right time. If he says it’s there, it will be. Trust him.”

  “Okay, I trust him. But time is tight and there’s not much margin. If I’m doing this, I have to move now in case they finish early!”

  “Agreed,” Jed says. “What do you think Charcoal?”

  In response, Charcoal looks carefully at Alex and then at Thor who nibbles contentedly on clumps of grass behind her. “I reckon it be our best bet to get outta here,” he replies carefully.

  Alex nods. “You got any better ideas?” she asks Jed.

  “Not right now Alex, and I don’t see any on the horizon. You happy with this?”

  “Heading out alone, on a strange horse into the bloody bush, with the only water hidden under a freak’n rock on a tight timeline to find these guys before they bug out! Yeah sure, I’m comfortable! Not! But that bastard Decker has to be stopped and I’ve had enough. I will finish it!” she says in a tone that frightens Jed as he sees her eyes glance down at the Colt tucked into his belt. She doesn’t add that she also wants out. To be away from him! To be alone, if only for a short time.

  He takes out the Colt, spins it in his hand and offers it to her. She takes it and tucks it into her own belt. Jed stands up and digs into his pocket, taking out two more rounds. “Condition two. You have six in the gun and these two. That’s all.” Then he picks up the coke bottle and offers it to her. It is showing wear and tear and isn’t going to last long. “Drink it. We can manage. The lagoon’s not far away.” It’s actually a decent walk away but he skips over that little detail.

  She takes the bottle, opens it and has a drink then goes over to Thor, talking softly to him and letting him drink the remaining water out of her hand. She takes her time and manages to spill almost none of it. Charcoal watches her carefully. When the bottle is finished he doesn’t interrupt as she speaks quietly, caressing the horse along his neck then massaging his forehead with her fingers. Thor nuzzles her, soaking up the attention.

  When she has finished attending to Thor, Charcoal calls her over. “You done won that horse over Alice,” he says, trying to use her name but pronouncing it wrong. She sees he is fighting the pain of his injuries but hiding it well. He lifts his left hand and offers it to her. She accepts it with a firm grip and a steady gaze into his eyes. “You’re a great woman. Be proud to ride with you anytime! Remember, if you get bushed, ride southeast, you can’t go wrong.”

  Alex appreciates the advice. It reassures her, just a little. It is an out that might keep her aliv
e if she keeps her head. It gives her a final boost of confidence. “Thanks,” giving his leather-tough hand a final squeeze, then turning to Jed. “Thanks for everything.” Her tone hints at things unsaid and unsettled. “I’ll be seeing you. Make sure you boys behave yourselves,” she adds with an attempt at humour as she turns to mount Thor.

  Jed calls her name. He steps toward her. He wants to pull her toward him and give her a hug but has no idea how that would be received. “Take care and…” but he doesn’t get a chance to finish.

  “I know, I know, head southeast!” she answers for him, trying to make a joke of it, not mentioning how to do it on a dying horse if she doesn’t find water. She strides toward Thor, mounting him with a smooth movement against the pain in her side, thankful she did it on the first try. She leans forward to caress his neck again, speaking softly to him and then turns his head. She leaves in a canter without looking back.

  Jed wants to finish his sentence. To apologise again for the risk he took with her life, but the opportunity rides off behind a cloud of red dust.

  “If that bloody horse hasn’t tried to kill her by now, he’s not going to. What you think?” Charcoal asks after horse and rider disappear from sight.

  “That’s a reassuring thought!” Jed replies dryly. “She’ll do it, even if she has to walk and crawl. That’s one woman it doesn’t pay to underestimate,” he concludes, bending down to check on Charcoal again before tending to his own wound.

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Decker is pushing the vehicle hard, harder than he should but he’s in a good mood. His spirits have been in turmoil since the ambush. He is pleased with the shot at the black fella. Dead centre head shot! Bloody good, even if it was the wrong target! They were in line after all, so he doesn’t hesitate to take the credit. He replays over and over the picture of the bullet hitting Joe, extracting every bit of satisfaction he can from the moment. He knows he jerked the trigger ever so slightly when he shot at the headmaster. It was a fast snap shot, but he is sure he got a hit. He is less happy with his shot at the bitch. It was a good shot. He had swung the cross hairs smoothly across and down for the gut-shot. Bloody bad luck she hit her head on the rock. He couldn’t have predicted that! He also couldn’t predict the other bloody black fella turning up or the ponce headmaster taking a shot at him.

  That other black bastard got what he deserved too. He is proud of the way he swung onto him and got a good hit, even at that range. The bastard can crawl away and die he consoles himself. He is even getting used to the idea of the ponce still being alive. He will enjoy tracking him at his leisure and doing him. Next month, next year, it doesn’t matter. His alibi is bloody good and he can take his time. Let the prick stew ever so slowly. Maybe tease him a bit by letting him see him occasionally, just fleetingly but enough to get him worried. That’s going to be fun, he thinks, steering around a deep washout in the track.

  “Pity we didn’t get a chance to cut her and spread her around a bit. The fuck’n pigs would have liked that.” Jesse says with a hint of depression. Decker feels compassion for his son, who had been looking forward to playing with her for a bit.

  “Just had an idea Jess! A bloody good one!” he announces. “Once we get back and sort things out, how about we buy her place and live there. Wouldn’t that be something!” he says with an eagerness that surprises him. “Wouldn’t that be the ultimate fuck’n payback! Once we tidy up one loose end, nobody will ever know. What do you think of that idea?”

  Jesse perks up. “Wow, that’d be great! Could I have her bedroom?” relishing the thought of taking over her space.

  Decker admires his son. He had been thinking about the bedroom for himself, but he loves Jess and is prepared to give him what he wants. “I reckon we can work that one out Jess,” he replies in a fatherly tone. He can see himself sipping a beer on the sandstone patio, feet up and enjoying the view over the bush. The wound in his side is starting to bite, but he begins to enjoy the pain.

  The adrenaline rush has been really something and is starting to give him a high. He savours the feeling, trying to make it last as long as possible. He reaches into the back seat and rummages around in a bag, pulling out a satellite phone and flicking it on, driving one handed while it makes a connection. Dialling up a number from memory he waits impatiently for it to ring.

  “I’m listening!” a crackly voice answers.

  Bloody rude bastard! Never did like the lazy prick! Decker keeps his thoughts to himself but has already decided it is a loose end to tidy up later. Maybe an innocent little car accident? So many things to do! “It’s done. You can move things along. We’ll settle when I get back.”

  “Done,” the voice replies and the call is abruptly terminated.

  Decker looks at the phone in disgust and tosses it back behind him. He’ll definitely be tidying up that side of things. He is distracted, mulling over the problem and misses seeing the rock with its pointed tip hidden in a clump of grass. They both hear the clang as the impact is taken by the exhaust, ripping the muffler clean off. He catches a brief glimpse of the muffler bouncing along the track as a raucous engine sound bellows across the landscape.

  “Fuck!” Decker exclaims as he brings the vehicle to a halt and climbs out to inspect the damage underneath. “Can’t do much about that. Just have to live with it!” he growls to Jesse.

  “Gonna be noisy!”

  “Aah, don’t worry. Lotta noisy trucks out here Jess. We’ll get another vehicle somewhere! Gotta check on that jewel or whatever it is anyway. We can have some fun before bugging out,” Decker exclaims, throwing his hands up in anticipation.

  Down the track in front of them, Davey hears the explosion of engine sound and pulls his horse to a stop so he can think. Brad is still clinging on behind, doing far better than he expected. Kid’s got guts, he thinks. Every movement must generate pain from his broken jaw but he never complains.

  Someone is behind him. He has no idea who. It could be the good guys or the bad guys, not that he is sure of anything anyway. He sees a slight rise off to his left and spurs his horse toward it. It won’t hurt to give them all a rest and it will give him a chance to see who is around. He hears the raucous sound start up again. Time to sit tight, Davey decides as he loses himself in the scrub.

  Chapter Sixty-three

  After a few minutes Alex slows Thor to a walk. She almost pulls the reins around and heads back to Jed. Each time she fights the temptation. He’d lined her up in Decker’s sights and only a roll of the dice dictated that she lived. Safety with Jed isn’t guaranteed. Only she can keep herself safe. More importantly, it will only delay finishing the business with Decker. She allows herself a few moments of regret she ever got involved with the bastard. He’d caught her at a weak time and was so good at manipulating people they had all thought he was some poor man lumped with a crazy woman. After luxuriating in some soul searching, she thrusts the thoughts aside and focuses on reality and the horse beneath her.

  She turns left and right around trees and bushes, getting him used to her movements and allowing him to adapt to her commands. Charcoal has trained him well. He has a special quality that tugs at her emotionally and spiritually. She can easily form a bond with him if she allows herself. She is not resisting. That bastard Decker shot her last riding horse as a final punishment and she had buried all her gear with him, never expecting to bond with a horse again. She had thought that part of her life over, but Thor has already got to her. In spite of the circumstances, he makes her laugh. He pretends to resist but actually yearns for leadership and loves a challenge that bonds him to his master.

  Well, she thinks, he’s going to love this challenge, urging him into a canter again. In the far distance she can see the first ridge, or jump-up as Charcoal would call it, with no water until the next ridge behind that. She has to conserve the horse but also cover distance, a delicate balance at the best of times. It is a challenge in an endurance race and a complete unknown dealing with strange country and a sociopath.
The ridge is further than she expected, the afternoon a bit warmer and the time window smaller that she likes. She has to work Thor hard but also knows he won’t make the distance without water. Pushing him will run him down and maybe kill him, then she’ll be out here alone and there’ll be no point trying to head southeast. She has to find the water.

  She knows the minutes have stretched into at least an hour and stops estimating time. She varies the pace—dropping to a walk to let him rejuvenate his energy, changing to a canter to cover ground and occasionally encouraging him into a gallop around the trees and between the scrub, always heading west, southwest, checking her direction against the sun. It is the only guide she has when she loses sight of the ridge behind the trees.

  She tries to remember everything Jed talked about while they had been pushing through the scrub, including anything he said about water. Apart from an obvious billabong or water course, he had spoken about hidden water. The water that Charcoal talked about was one source she has read about. She remembers Jed mentioning soaks and digging for water. Low points whose existence is only indicated by changes in vegetation, subtle indicators of colour, density, height or species. She drags his comments out of her memory, filing them in her conscious mind so she can search for signs while she rides.

  She leans forward in the saddle, soothing Thor with a scratch to his neck and encouraging him with words easily swallowed by the vast landscape stretching away to nothingness. That doesn’t matter, as long as Thor hears them and identifies with the tone they are spoken in. They sink into their rhythm, covering the country, heading west, southwest.

  Chapter Sixty-four

  Jed has looked after Charcoal as best he can and tended his own flesh wound. He’s been lucky on that score at least. A few centimetres and he’d be nursing a broken arm or bleeding his life away. He is thankful for any small mercy.