RETRIBUTION RIDGE: a dark, gripping and intense suspense thriller

by Anna Willett

  Fighting the urge to flinch, Nora drew the bottle away. Her fingers brushed against the side of his penis which immediately squirted a spray of dark yellow urine over her wrist. “Urgh.” Nora gasped, a mix of horror and revulsion.

  She turned an accusing gaze on the man in the bed. Every nerve in her body jangled with the need to turn and flee. Her mouth opened and a string of curses threatened to explode. A thin line of drool ran out of the corner of Archie’s lopsided smile. His seeing eye watched her with a look of excited anticipation.

  Nora clamped her lips together. Suddenly denying him the satisfaction of seeing her upset seemed more important than getting the foul liquid off her hand. She turned and placed the bottle of urine on the locker next to the bed before settling Archie’s pyjama bottoms, ensuring he was fully covered. As she moved, her whole being seemed focused on the spots of warm urine that covered her wrist.

  When she finished settling his clothes and bedding, Nora turned slowly and walked into the little bathroom to the right of the bed. She washed her hands in the basin, leaving the door open and never glancing up at the mirror. Afraid that if she looked at herself, she’d see a middle-aged woman on the verge of tears.

  After leaving the bathroom, Nora took the bottle from the locker and walked to the door. As she moved, she kept her chin up and her shoulders squared. She pushed through the door just as Archie called out, “Thanks, Blondie.” A snuffling laugh followed her into the hall.

  In the sluice room Nora dumped the urine and tossed the dirty bottle into the sink. She let out a long shaky breath and leaned both hands on the edge of the sink. Don’t let him make you cry, she warned herself. He’s just a messed-up kid who’s going to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. But the tears flowed and with them shuddering sobs. Nothing she told herself took away the feeling of anger.

  Fifteen minutes later, Nora walked out of the sluice. She glanced over at room 81 and wondered if it might be time for her to make a move. She’d given the best part of her life to general nursing, but caring for Archie left a bitter feeling in the back of her throat. Her friend Angie called geriatric nursing dull. With her eyes still puffy from tears, Nora decided dull sounded like just what she needed.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Judith pulled the front door closed behind her and heard the lock click in place. Harper seemed much brighter. The panic attacks were less frequent; not as intense. She’d come a long way since those first weeks of crippling terror. Still, if Judith left without making sure the place was locked up, she’d never hear the end of it. She wished she could take the fear away, but doubted that anything would ever truly erase what happened. Harper would always bear the scars left by the Crowell brothers. They both would.

  Judith let out a breath and headed for the track. One of the advantages of their new semi-rural life in Margaret River was the absence of noise. It was easier to think without the traffic and ceaseless movement of the city. But the tranquillity of the setting couldn’t take away the feeling of restlessness that plagued her. A sense that she’s left something unfinished. The nagging compulsion that pushed her to run.

  Going for a jog, she called it. Harmless, casual – normal. What she did on the trails that cut through the three-and-a-half acres surrounding their new home was far from normal. Judith stepped onto the track and felt the familiar tingle in her chest. She dreaded and craved this moment, needed the release it brought in a way that nothing else could. She began stretching, loosening up her limbs and filling her lungs with clean air. She started off slowly enjoying the sound of her running shoes hitting the tightly packed earth. This was the moment when all the memories and the guilt could be set free and the voices of the dead filled her mind.

  She increased her pace barely noticing the trees spinning past. Her sister’s voice, always the first, took up residence in her head. Please don’t go. I pushed him. Over and over the words falling into rhythm with the pounding of her feet. Then Martin, I didn’t kill your sister, you did. Judith heard the words and forced her legs to move faster as if the guilt was something solid that could be outrun. She veered right, leaping over a fallen log, almost losing her balance. Grunting, she pushed herself forward.

  Now the voices were replaced by sounds and images. Milly falling, the sickening sound when her head hit the ground. The knife entering Martin’s eye, the warm spill of fluid slopping over her hand and then finally her sister’s eyes, misty and lifeless, staring up at the darkening sky. Judith let out a howl and pumped her arms and legs until her heartbeat drowned out the endless reel.

  She burst through the trees and skidded onto the banks of the waterway. Momentum carried her forward another metre or so, arms windmilling in an effort to stop herself toppling into the fast-moving waters of Margaret River. Arms and legs trembling, Judith bent at the waist and vomited. With each shuddering spasm, she found a small measure of calm.

  It took some time for her breathing to return to normal. She dragged her arm across her mouth and grimaced. How many of these jogs had she taken since they’d moved to their new home? Ten? Twenty? What was the alternative? If she let the grief take hold of her, she’d break down and then what would happen to Harper? After everything she’d been through, Judith couldn’t let her down. She sat on the soft grassy bank and wrapped her arms around her knees. The water whispered past, rippled by the early summer breeze. Harper was making real progress. There were times when she seemed like her old self, Judith couldn’t risk shattering her girlfriend’s fragile grasp on happiness. Not now.

  “Judith?”

  Startled, Judith whipped her head around. Harper stood in a patch of sunlight, her head tipped to one side. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but stopped. Judith turned away and ran her fingers through her hair trying to compose herself, knowing it was too late. Caught off guard, the emotions still raw and close to the surface, Harper had seen every feeling written on her face. The ragged sorrow and guilt she’d tried so long to keep inside, laid bare.

  “What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Judith tried to make her tone light, but a tremor gave her away.

  “I’m looking for you. I was worried.” She could hear the concern in her girlfriend’s voice.

  “I’m fine, I’m just having a bad day.” Judith kept her eyes on the river not wanting to turn and risk another look into Harper’s eyes. She heard her approach and sit beside her, her shoulder brushed Judith’s arm.

  “I know you’re not alright, Jude.” Harper’s voice was soft, little more than a whisper. Judith, arms still wrapped around her legs, laid her head on her knees keeping her face turned away from her girlfriend’s gaze. “I know you come out here so I won’t see you upset. I know you think you’re protecting me, but you don’t have to.”

  Judith closed her eyes and swallowed. A sob was building in her chest and the effort of keeping it in made her shiver. Harper slid her arm around Judith’s shoulders. She could feel the warmth coming off her skin. “I know I’ve been hard to live with,” Harper continued. “But I’m much better now. I’m not as fragile as you think I am. You’ve got to stop punishing yourself and lean on me a bit or… Or I don’t know if we can make it.”

  Judith lifted her head. “Don’t say that.” She turned and looked into Harper’s blue eyes, so clear and intense. “You know I love you.”

  “Well let me help you.” Harper pulled her closer. “When I was out there.” She jerked her head to the side. “Running, hiding, fighting. Deep down I knew you’d find me. If I could just survive long enough, I knew nothing would stop you. You’d find me.” She reached up and brushed a strand of sweaty hair off Judith’s forehead. “And you did. Now you need to lean on me.”

  Judith turned her body towards Harper’s. She could feel all the pain and anguish bubbling up to the surface. This time, she didn’t try to hold back. She pressed her face into Harper’s shoulder. She smelled like fresh linen and honey, a scent that reminded Judith of childhood and breakfast in bed. She breathed in the comforting aro
ma and let the tears come. She cried for her mother and for Milly, for the terrible aching loss. There were even tears for herself, some of grief, but also relief.

  When the weeping finally ended, Harper pulled away and stood. “Come on. Let’s go home.” She offered Judith her hand. “We’ve spent enough time out in the great outdoors.”

  BACKWOODS RIPPER

  If you enjoyed RETRIBUTION RIDGE, why not try out BACKWOODS RIPPER by the same author. Scroll down to read a sample chapter.

  “Backwoods Ripper is a dark psychological suspense thriller that fans of Stephen King’s Misery will adore.”

  When Paige and her husband are stranded in the backwoods and held hostage by a strange woman, how far will she have to go to protect her unborn child?

  FREE sample chapter

  Paige Loche turned the radio off and regarded her husband. With one lightly tanned arm draped over the wheel, and the other resting on his thigh, Hal looked completely relaxed. One of the things she loved about him was his stillness. Even with the birth of their first baby only two months away, he managed to remain calm and unfazed while Paige experienced a stab of panic every time she thought about what lay ahead.

  “Tired of the music?” He asked, and shifted his hand to her leg.

  “Just feeling a bit queasy.”

  They’d left the highway thirty minutes ago in search of a side road heading to the east of Mount Barker. At first the bushland on either side of the single lane road offered a welcome change from the bland and uneventful highway. But after watching the trees spin by for the last ten minutes, Paige felt her stomach churn and her lower back throb.

  “I’ll find a turn off and a clearing where we can pull over.” Hal rubbed Paige’s thigh while keeping an eye on the road.

  “Thanks.” She picked up his hand and turned it over so she could run her finger over the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. She could feel his pulse beating a steady rhythm beneath his warm skin. When they first met, Hal’s tattoo unnerved her. But over time, the vicious red snake – weaving its way around a dagger – became one more thing about her husband she’d grown to love.

  “Don’t worry, after the baby comes, I’m getting it removed.”

  “Don’t you dare.” Paige lifted his wrist to her lips. “It’s grown on me and … and it’s part of who you are.”

  “I thought you hated it?” Hal laughed.

  “Hate is a strong word.” Paige put his hand on her belly. “Besides it can be a useful cautionary tale about what not to do when you’re drunk.” She felt the baby move. A long shifting sensation travelled across her stomach, as if sensing its father’s touch. “Feel that?”

  Hal gave her a sideways look over the top of his sunglasses and smiled: Hal, with his messy brown hair and two-day old stubble looking healthy and strong, as if he could take on the world.

  * * *

  “Spring Road. I don’t remember seeing it on the map, but it might be privately owned,” Hal said, and swung the car right. “With any luck there’ll be a clearing where we can pull over.”

  The sign announcing Spring Road leaned dangerously close to the ground at a sixty-degree angle, almost as if pointing towards some hidden passage to the centre of the earth. On either side of the narrow road, thick scrub and ancient gum trees crowded the bitumen. Paige leaned back and shifted her butt until her back straightened. It had been two hours since they last took a break and she looked forward to stretching her back.

  “Is that a house?” Paige motioned towards a clearing on the left.

  Amidst the tightly-packed greenery, a dusty white building sat in a sea of cracked bitumen, now a home for sprigs of yellowing weeds. The building looked at odds with its surroundings, as if an industrial structure had dropped from a passing aeroplane and landed haphazardly in the midst of the bush.

  “Whatever it is, I’d say it’s abandoned now.” Hal pulled the car off the road and onto the aging bitumen. Bits of stone and scattered twigs crackled under the wheels of the Ford EcoSport. “There’s a bit of shade at the end of the building,” he said and drove around the carpark.

  The building comprised of two squat brick structures on either side of a tall, broad tower with a pointed tin roof. The façade had been rendered – at least fifty years ago – and painted white, now faded to a streaky water-stained grey. On the far left of the structure, the carpark dipped and a cluster of peppermint trees circled the crumbling edges of the property.

  “Silver Island Cheese.” Paige read the cursive black writing above the building’s main door. “It’s sort of creepy.”

  “It’s a cheese factory; I don’t think there’s anything less creepy,” Hal said with a chuckle, and turned the car in a slow arc to park under the shade of the trees. “Come on, we can sit on the loading bay.”

  For a moment Paige didn’t move. She scanned the front of the building for signs of life. Something about the hulking structure seemed out of place in the isolated setting. She pinched her lower lip between her thumb and index finger.

  “It’s not like we’re planning on breaking into the place.” Hal sensed her trepidation. “You can stretch your legs and take a breather. I’ll grab us something to eat out of the Esky. We’ll have a picnic.” He looked around. “I don’t see any chainsaw-wielding maniacs so I think we’ll be okay.”

  Paige rolled her eyes skyward. “Okay, but if I get chopped up, I’m blaming you,” she said, suppressing a smile.

  Hal grabbed a picnic rug and the cooler from the rear of the vehicle, and walked over to the loading dock. He spread the rug out near the edge and pulled a can of coke out of the Esky. Just watching him drink made Paige need to pee. She rubbed the small of her back and turned away. The bush on the far side of the car would do the trick, but the thought of squatting in the thick scrub while trying to balance her swollen belly was unappealing to say the least. Then there was the tiny matter of snakes. She shuddered and turned back to Hal.

  “Do you want a drink?” He asked, holding up a bottle of water.

  Paige’s shoulders slumped. “I need to pee, but I’m worried about snakes in the bush.”

  Hal put his coke down and walked back towards her. “Just do it around the other side of the car. There’s no one around, why go in the bush?”

  Paige turned and looked at the road. They hadn’t seen another car for at least twenty minutes. The baby gave a sudden kick and the pressure on her bladder intensified.

  She sighed. “Okay. Why not?”

  She took care positioning herself near the dip that lead to the peppermint trees so the urine would flow down and away from her feet. The relief felt almost erotic in its intensity. Paige let out a long breath and looked up. A magpie sat in the overhanging branch, its head cocked to one side; it fixed a black beady eye on her.

  If the magpie decided to swoop at her, Paige would likely tumble backwards and land in her own pee. She grimaced and tried to force her bladder to empty, but it had been a long car ride and judging by the steady stream that chugged towards the peppermint trees, she wasn’t slowing down any time soon. She cursed under her breath and clutched her knees.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing!” Paige winced at the shrillness of her voice and glanced back up at the magpie. It regarded her with blank intensity and rubbed its beak on the edge of the branch. Getting it nice and sharp, Paige thought grimly and watched the creature hop a little farther down the branch. She felt her stream start to dwindle and smiled. A second later, she pulled up her pants, gave the bird a smug look over her shoulder and walked back around the car.

  “Feeling better?”

  “You wouldn’t belie-”

  “Look out!” Hal’s smile dropped and his mouth opened. He stepped towards her, arms up.

  Paige started to ask what he meant when something grazed the right side of her head. There was no pain, just a jolt. In her periphery she saw a blur of black moving so quickly she could’ve imagined it. Stumbling forward, Paige almost lost her footing, but H
al reached her in time.

  “I knew that thing was going to swoop at me.”

  “Are you okay?” He held her left elbow to steady her.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Paige laughed. “Lucky I’ve got you to catch me.” She looked up into his face and the smile died on her lips.

  He’d drained of colour and his lips were tight. Pulling her closer, he encircled her in his arms. She leaned her head against his chest and listened to his heart beat; it sounded fast. Had her near-fall startled him so badly? She laced her arms around his back and felt his muscles warm and hard beneath his T-shirt.

  * * *

  Hal, a little over six foot with a large, muscular frame, had just left the army when Paige met him. He’d been working as a plumber – a trade learned in the armed forces. Strong, gentle, and light hearted, but never glib; he made Paige feel safe.

  “I’m sorry if I scared you.” Paige pulled back from the hug, searching Hal’s eyes.

  He looked away, she could see a redness creep up his neck. She frowned.

  “Hal? Is something wrong?”

  He kissed her on top of the head, turned away, and walked towards the loading bay. “It’s nearly three o’clock, we should get going.” He folded the picnic blanket.

  Paige could tell he was upset, maybe even embarrassed about something. It’d probably be best to just let it go and wait until he wanted to talk about it. But Hal never fretted about little things.

  “Hal, tell me what’s going on? You’re worrying me.” Paige put her hand on his elbow and turned him away from the Esky.

  He put the rug down and faced her. “It’s nothing, really.”

  Paige put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. Hal gave a long sigh and said, “Okay, but it’s nothing. I wouldn’t even say anything, but I know you won’t let it go until I do.”