RETRIBUTION RIDGE: a dark, gripping and intense suspense thriller

by Anna Willett

She tried to force herself to open her eyes, but the thought of seeing what waited for her sent bursts of fire through her chest. She wanted to curl inward and chase the senseless darkness that had swallowed her only minutes ago. But her mind, now filling with thoughts of knives and blood wouldn’t allow her any escape. If it’s my time to die, I’ll open my eyes and face it. Brave thoughts, but still her throat contracted with the pressure of her hammering heart rate.

  There was another smell, coppery and pungent. Her mind threw up an image of William, the knife buried in his throat and his eyes wide with helpless terror. Harper gritted her teeth and opened her eyes. The sky had turned from blue to dull-grey. She was on the ground, unyielding and rocky.

  Harper turned her head to the left and found the source of the coppery odour. William lay a couple metres away. His head angled towards her, eyes open and misted with a dusty film. She could see the wound in his neck, gaping like a crusty red mouth. He’d been so full of life, his eyes and voice alive with knowledge and kindness. She’d known him only briefly, yet his loss insulted her soul. A flicker of something cold and hard ignited inside her. She’d been running scared for more than twenty-four hours, hiding, screaming, but the sight of William thrown on the ground like a discarded sack changed that. Now a new emotion surged through her like an electrical charge – anger.

  Harper raised her head and followed the thumping and scraping sound. She could see his back. He’d taken his black jacket off and underneath wore only a white singlet. He was on his knees. The muscles across his broad shoulders bunched and swelled as he busied himself with his grim task. He was digging; using some sort of small tin spade, the sort of thing campers used to dig latrines.

  He’s going to bury us, a voice in her head spoke with flat certainty. There would be no more running; her body had given almost all it could. Her only chance was to use what little she had left to stop him before the other one arrived. If she could use the element of surprise, she might be able to overpower him. That would mean she had to act now. Once the other man returned … it would be useless.

  Harper waited until his spade struck the earth and curled herself into a sitting position. If she moved carefully, timing each action so that the digging masked her approach, she just might be able to positon herself behind him.

  The spade struck again and Harper rolled onto her knees. Then with another strike, she made it to her feet. The effort of standing caused her stomach to churn with hunger and fear. Her legs felt like clay, heavy and unresponsive. She scanned the ground for something, anything, to use against him.

  Her eyes landed on a pinkish granite rock about the size of a small melon. It looked like the rock had been knocked loose from the ground when he threw William’s body down. She fixed her gaze on his back and sidestepped towards William’s feet. When his spade hit dirt, Harper stooped and grabbed the rock using her uninjured hand. Her fingers gripped the rough surface, but its weight was too much for her to shift using only one hand. He’s nearly done, it’s now or never.

  Harper dragged her eyes away from her tormentor’s back and searched for a weapon she could manage. She located another rock, not as big or heavy, a metre or so to her right. It wasn’t as deadly looking as the first one. You’ll just have to hit him harder, her inner voice now active, seemed to be full of advice. Yes, I’ll have to put all my weight into it.

  His movements were slowing down. Either he was growing tired or the grave was almost ready. She waited. Thump, sidestep. Thump, bend and grab. The rock had some weight to it. Not as much as she’d have liked, but there was a jagged point on the top. If she brought it down in the right spot … the base of his neck, the voice in her head sounded excited. Harper could feel her heart jackhammering her ribcage. Her hands trembled. She knew she had to act while she had a burst of adrenalin coursing through her.

  She stepped forward, timing her movements like a bridesmaid walking down the aisle. It’d be funny if there wasn’t a dead man a few metres behind me and a lunatic digging my grave, she thought as she closed in on her target.

  His head bobbed and moved from side to side as if surveying his work. Harper stopped moving forward and tried to remain motionless. If he turned, she’d be spotted immediately. The urge to run bubbled up and her feet itched inside her battered hiking boots. You’ll never make it, the voice whispered, you’re too weak. Then, Kill him, it’s your only chance. Harper nodded and kept her eyes trained on the back of his head.

  He lifted his head and dug the shovel into the dirt. She stepped forward and almost stumbled on a fallen branch. If not for the noise cover of the shovel hitting the dirt, he’d have heard her boots slipping. Shaken, but undeterred, she moved closer. She could hear his breathing, heavy and guttural.

  One more step and she be close enough. When the shovel hit the loose dirt, Harper took the final step. She pulled her arm back, much like a pitcher about to throw. Even as she wound up for the hit, she could feel her left arm lacked the strength needed to make it a killer blow.

  Harper swung the chunk of granite with as much force as she could muster and the jagged edge struck home right in the patch of coarse dark hair on the back of his neck. There was a crunching sound as rock sliced flesh and hit bone. He let out a croak and stumbled forward into the shallow pit. Harper, still clutching the rock, crouched and jumped into the pit, almost landing on the back of his legs.

  “What the fuck?” Outrage changed the pitch of his voice from deep to high and petulant.

  He wrapped a hand around the patch of split skin on the back of his neck and pulled his knees forward. If she hesitated and let him get to his feet, he’d kill her. Of that, she had no doubt. Harper leaned forward, half bending over him, she raised her arm again. Before she struck, he turned his face and looked over his shoulder. The vacuous look she’d seen when he killed William was replaced by terror. His eyes were wide and the pock marks on his cheeks looked angry and red.

  “I’ll kill y…”

  Harper smacked the rock into the base of his skull. There came a sound like Velcro being torn open and the skin on his neck split in a vicious slash of shredded skin and exposed tissue. The blow reverberated up her arm with bone-jarring force. He continued to move, his arms grabbing at the dusty soil, his legs struggling for purchase. Harper felt her stomach contract and hot bile spewed from her mouth. The foul-smelling frothy mess landed between his legs.

  For a second, she stood caught between the desire to finish him and the urge to flee and put the sight of his gaping flesh as far behind her as possible. The chunk of granite felt leaden and her arm ached from the blows she’d rained down on him. Still floundering, she didn’t catch the change in his posture.

  His legs drew up and before she could react, he was on one knee. The metal shovel concealed by his body, swung around and caught her in the chest. Harper felt the air sweep out of her lungs in a hot rush. Something inside her snapped and she toppled to the side. I’m in my grave, she thought as her breath wheezed out through her mouth. Her eyes locked on the sky, dark clouds gathered overhead blocking the blue and plunging the afternoon into dimness.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Judith moved with urgency, stepping around forest debris and between tightly-packed trees. Keeping her breathing even and her chin up, she pushed her body to keep a brisk pace. She considered herself to be in good shape, and without her sister to slow her down she aimed to be back at the cliff site in less than an hour. Her thoughts were constantly shifting between Milly and Harper.

  I pushed him. Those were the words Milly used. After all the years of not knowing, suspecting, she’d finally admitted what really happened. Judith had lived so long with blame and bitterness, it should have been difficult to let go of the anger. But none of it mattered anymore. If we ever get out of here, no, she corrected herself. When we get out of here, I’m going to help my sister forgive herself. The important thing now was finding Harper.

  Leeuwin Naturaliste National Park is an endless expanse of rugged terrain domin
ated by steep rocks and dense bush and forest. Finding Harper might be almost impossible, but the torn pack gave Judith a place to start. She had no real way of knowing if she was even headed in the right direction. Her plan now was to backtrack and keep checking the treetops on her left. When the cliff came into view, she’d make a bee-line for it. That’s if I’m not wandering in circles. She pushed the doubts away; second guessing herself would achieve nothing.

  The light changed. Circles of sunshine became patches of grey. Judging by the snatches of sky that appeared above the trees, rain was coming. In this part of the National Park, the ground tended to be coarse and slippery with rotting leaves. Mossy growths covered fallen trees and stumps, filling the air with a damp musty odour. Judith felt the warmth leave the air and shrugged deeper into the fleecy hoodie she’d borrowed from her sister.

  Her mind turned back to Milly. Maybe with Lucas to guide her, they’d made it back to the trail. They might be getting close to finding help. Without thinking, she glanced up; seeing only the soupy grey sky, she reminded herself it was too soon to hope for a rescue helicopter. Still, within the next few hours it might be possible, her thoughts shifted from despair to hope so swiftly she almost laughed.

  She stole another look at the sky and spotted a dark outline that seemed at odds with the treetops. A burst of excitement flared in her stomach and she picked up her pace. With her eyes fixed on the jagged shape of the cliff, Judith let her attention wander. In seconds, her boot caught a narrow root and the world tilted forward.

  The impact of the fall slapped the wind out of her lungs and sent her sprawling onto her stomach and chest, mashing the plastic water bottle against her body. Her legs, bare up to the thighs struck the ground. After the initial shock, she pushed herself up onto her knees and brushed at the layer of damp leaves stuck to her jacket.

  “Fuck.” It came out as more of a moan than a curse.

  Judith slumped back onto her butt and shoved the mangled water bottle aside. She examined her knees. Grazed skin coated with dirt. The shock of falling left her feeling rattled. She patted her front right pocket and felt the reassuring bulge of the penknife. Thinking of the knife set her mind on a course she’d been trying to avoid. What did they do to Harper? Would she ever find her or would she, like so many other victims of crime in Australia, simply vanish?

  Thoughts of Ivan Milat, the notorious serial killer responsible for seven known murders in the 1990s, filled her mind. Judith remembered watching a documentary about the crimes and how Milat had stabbed, shot and beaten his victims. Their bodies were later discovered in the Belanglo State Forest in New South Wales. Leeuwin Naturaliste National Park was a huge area made up of dense bush and rugged coastal land. In this remote area, the National Park abutted the Boranup Karri Forest; maybe the two men were using the park like Milat had used Belanglo – as a hunting ground. Judith covered her face with her hands trying to block the images that flashed behind her eyes.

  The surrounding trees suddenly seemed huge, towering over her and casting a spider’s web of shadows wherever she looked. Harper could be anywhere, what hope did Judith have of finding her in the endless kilometres of wilderness? And the penknife, what good would it be against two men crazy enough to abduct a woman in broad daylight? The sense of certainty she’d felt when she left Milly and Lucas ebbed out of her body, leaving her weak and exhausted.

  On some level, Judith realised she was overwhelmed and most likely suffering from mild dehydration and exposure, but insight didn’t help her shaking hands and panicky thoughts. She snatched up the water bottle, drained the last mouthful, then discarded the container. Great, now I’m a litter bug, a silly thought under the circumstances, the sort of thing Harper would have found hilarious. Judith felt a tremor start somewhere deep down and threaten to swallow her up with grief. Stop it, she warned herself. Harper’s not dead. No, she thought, she’s alive and she needs me.

  Judith stood and checked the angle of the cliff. If she kept heading left, she’d run into the area where Milly fell. She tried not to think about what might happen if the two men found her. For all Judith knew, she could be walking towards her own death. Something fluttered in her chest and the urge to turn and run gripped her. Her breath came in sharp pants. In spite of the chill in the air, her hands were slick with sweat. She rubbed them on the front of her shorts and moved on. Slowly, softening the impact of her boots, Judith approached the cliff making as little noise as possible.

  Something thumped the ground and she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Judith gasped and turned to her right. Nothing but trees, bush grass, and shrubs. Holding her breath, she scanned the grey and green thicket. Still keeping her eyes on the trees, she fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the knife.

  She swallowed and licked her lips. With her eyes wide and jumping from tree to tree, it took her brain an extra few seconds to acknowledge what it saw. First one kangaroo, then a second. A long shaky breath slipped past her half-open mouth. No more than six metres away the two roos regarded her with curiosity. The smaller of the two, probably a female, continued to chew while the large grey male stood motionless. His heavily muscled shoulders tensed, ready to attack or flee.

  The moment stretched and both Judith and the kangaroos waited. Under different circumstances, she’d have probably been enchanted, but all she felt was relief and an underlying sense of annoyance. The blood still pumping in her ears, she shoved the knife back in her pocket and turned away. Her movement startled the creatures and she heard them jump away.

  In less than ten minutes, the bush thinned and the trees gave way to an open patch of bush grass. Judith, still trying to remain stealthy in her approach to the cliffs, hesitated. She leaned her weight against a peppermint tree and tried to take in every angle. With no trace of movement, she stepped out into the open.

  The patch of open ground directly below the cliff was immediately familiar. Judith threw a quick glance over her shoulder and walked forward. She spotted the remains of the fire she’d built. Was that only last night? It seemed an eternity since she and Milly had sat in front of the fire in the dying light.

  Judith approached the charred remains and nudged them with the toe of her boot. There were a few remnants of the night the sisters had spent in the area. Judith spotted Milly’s watch half buried under leaves and the dusty ground. She picked it up and examined the face. The glass was cracked, probably from Milly’s fall, the hands stuck at 3:20. She rubbed her fingers over the band trying to wipe away some of the grime, but only succeeded in making it worse. Finally, she gave up and put the watch in her pocket with the knife.

  All this started when their mother died and Judith had the idea to get Milly to confess to what really happened. She looked up at the dark shape of the cliff. No. It all started at the Reach. It seemed like her whole life had been lived in the shadow of that place. How could one night … one stupid action, keep causing so much misery? Maybe that was the way God or Karma or whatever worked, by forcing the guilty to carry the weight of their sins – forever.

  Judith looked into the ashes left by the fire. “I can do that … I can carry the weight of it, just as long as you don’t take Harper away from me,” she realised she was speaking aloud, praying. She swallowed and wiped her eyes. She’d never believed in God. But the idea of a caring creator felt comforting. She could understand why people turned to religion in times of stress. Here she was, an atheist, crying and praying to a God she didn’t believe existed until five minutes ago. Even so, voicing her thoughts made her feel less alone. If you are listening, she hesitated, feeling a bit self-conscious, help me find her. Judith looked up at the darkening sky. Streaks of stark light beaming through heavy storm clouds somehow terrifying and breath-taking at the same time. She had to move now, before the National Park was awash.

  A semi-circle of trees arched the clearing. When Milly found the pack, she’d been in a thick swatch of trees and bushes. Judith frowned and scanned the edges of the forest. She could see littl
e to distinguish one crop of trees from the next. Remembering the exact location of the pack might be more difficult than she thought.

  The sky rumbled as if getting ready to unleash its fury. Judith bit her bottom lip and tried to think. She remembered watching Milly walk into the trees, the way she limped to the right. “Which way?” Judith turned left then back to the right.

  She ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes. Okay, now’s the time for some divine intervention, Judith thought and opened her lids. The first thing she noticed were the boot prints in the dusty earth. It had obviously been days since it last rained because the ground was just dry enough for their footprints to be visible.

  The area around the fire had been heavily trampled and near the cliff, long smooth patches of sand showed the outline of where the two women slept. Judith stepped around the fire, eyes trained on the ground. Even in the dimness, she could make out her boot prints leading towards the ashes. Crouching forward, she spotted two sets leading off to the left.

  “Yes.” She broke into a jog and followed the prints into the trees.

  The tightly-packed trunks and thick canopy blocked most of what little light remained. Judith thought of the torch and cursed herself for not thinking to take it from Milly’s pack. She waited on the edge of the clearing. After a minute or so, her eyes began to adjust to the gloom. A gust of wind pushed at her back as if trying to move her deeper into the wilderness.

  A few metres in, Judith noticed a patch of watery light shining through a small clearing. The area looked familiar, but everything in the National Park looked so similar it was difficult to tell one place from the next. A few shoulder-high grey bushes edged the tiny patch. Upon closer inspection, she could see the weeds to the right of the bushes had been trampled. Standing on the crushed growth, Judith turned and surveyed the clearing.

  The pack hung from a low-lying branch, one shoulder strap trailing down like a broken limb. Judith’s first impulse was to rush forward and grab the backpack, but then another thought occurred to her. She’d spotted the tracks, maybe whoever left the pack also left behind footprints. She edged her way towards a twisted wattle tree where the torn pack hung.