Nobody sees our hearts break. Damn right. I returned her smile.
This'd be our last gig in Fremantle. Next week we’d fly back to Melbourne and hope something would come out of the new contract.
Jo and Jason launched into Necessary Evil and I allowed myself to smile. I wasn’t going to lose it on this one – I’d sing it the whole way through, my heart in every note.
For Nathan. For me. For the necessary evil and my hope that one day I'd truly be free.
Part 86
I found the papers in my bag the next morning, under the clothes I’d stuffed into it when I got changed for the gig.
The writing on the first page was Nathan’s and it was rough.
I started writing down my nightmares, too. I thought you should know.
The pages beneath were all word processed, a printout of something he’d typed. I sat down and read it.
Normal nightmares are never this clear and constant. I only close my eyes and I’m there again, so real it’s heartbreaking. And I can never change what happens, no matter how much I want to.
Mike found me first. "Here," he said as he threw something to me.
I caught it without thinking. I recognised the keys to my car and looked at him, wanting to ask why he'd given me the keys back, when I was on my way to see her.
"You'll need the car to dump the body when you're done with her. One more fuck and you'll wear her out." He grinned. "Don't let that stop you. She's better alive than dead."
I didn't bother to reply.
It was late at night and without the moon it would've been pitch-black outside the house. I wondered if she was awake yet. I walked faster through the bush than usual, taking the steps into the old underground bunker two at a time. I crossed what I thought was the weapon storage room and slowly opened the door to the sleep quarters, not bothering to shut it behind me.
I could hear her laboured breathing, telling me where she was, but I couldn’t see her in the gloom. My toes brushed something and I fell to my knees, feeling for her with my hands. My hands touched bare skin – she was so cold! She moaned at my touch, then started coughing.
I tried to find her a blanket in the dark, but I couldn’t. Even the mattress was gone. While she still slept, I wanted to go get her another blanket from the house. Maybe a quilt, too, I decided. After all, it wasn’t like I couldn’t spare mine.
Quickly and quietly, I made my way back to the house, grabbed the quilt, then headed to the cupboard where the extra blankets were kept. I bundled the quilt into my arms and grabbed the top two blankets.
I detoured by the kitchen on the way back, switching on the light. I opened the fridge and wished I'd asked them to pick up some extra food for Caitlin. I grabbed a can of Coke from the box on the bench and raised my hand to turn off the light.
There was a smear of blood on the light switch. I looked down, to see two bloody handprints on my quilt. I turned my hands over, dreading what I knew I'd find.
Traces of her blood stained my hands.
NOOOO! I screamed in my head, knowing that my mouth was open, but I couldn’t make a sound. Can’t let her die. Have to help her. To hell with everything else.
I shoved the Coke in my pocket, tightening my arms around the blankets and quilt. I ran all the way back to her.
I set the quilt down beside her and she barely stirred. She was cold and asleep, which gave me the idea of trying to smuggle her out as a corpse as she slept. After all, Mike expected me to kill her tonight.
I gave her the last pills I had left, to make sure she’d sleep until I could get her to hospital. Desperately, I prayed my crazy plan would work, so I could save both her and Chris.
Then I tried to wrap her in the quilt, thinking to cover her face as if she really was a corpse. The quilt almost smothered her, so I took it off her and wrapped her in the blankets instead. Focussing on her even breathing on my shoulder, reminding myself with every step that I had to keep her alive, keep her breathing, I cradled her blanket-wrapped body and carried her to the car. I laid her carefully across the back seat, closing the door as quietly as I could, before I slid in behind the steering wheel.
I drove to the beach, to the spot I always drove to. Where they'd found Alanna and I'd never find peace. I knew she had to get to hospital as soon as possible, but this was my only chance at pulling this off. Protecting her and my sister.
Once I’d failed to obey my orders and stop them from taking her, Mott’s next orders were clear. Tail them until they dumped the body and catch them on the way out.
Catch them, keep Chris safe...and keep Caitlin alive. I didn’t think I could succeed in all three, but I had to try. I'd take two out of three – the most important two. To hell with the rest.
I forced myself to park the car and take the keys out of the ignition. I clenched my hands on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. When my exhalation emptied my lungs, I shoved the door open and stood up.
I slammed my door shut and opened the one behind it. She looked as if she hadn’t moved at all during the short drive. I leaned over to check on her before I touched her. I could hear her breathing, which sounded wheezy, as if she had a cough or worse.
I remember desperately wanting to take her to hospital NOW, to shut the door, get back in the car and drive as quickly as I could.
I lifted her out of the car and carried her to the beach. I laid her on the sand, still wrapped in the blankets.
I realised that I’d left my phone in the car, so I went back to get it, bringing back the first aid kit from the car, too, little good though it might be. I switched the phone on for the first time in weeks and rang an ambulance, telling them I’d found a girl lying unconscious on the beach. Then I rang the police and told them the same thing. Only I told the police it was my fault.
I took the scissors from the first aid kit and tried to cut through the rope around her wrists, but they were too caked in dried blood. I looked for something to wipe it away with and came up with a bottle of disinfectant, a couple of vials of saline and some gauze. Dousing the gauze in the disinfectant, I hesitated. "I’m sorry, Caitlin, this will hurt, but I need to do it to free your hands," I told her, wincing as I touched the gauze to her wrist. She didn’t react, even when I poured the remaining disinfectant over her hands and wrists, and I realised why. She couldn’t feel her hands – the rope was cutting off her circulation, or she was too cold.
I hacked at the rope with the scissors again and I felt the rope part. When I pulled the rope away, her hands stayed in the twisted position they had been tied in. I tried to massage some blood back into her poor hands, but I stopped as I realised that her hands were twisted because her fingers were broken.
Shaken, I sat back for a second, trying to work out what to do next. It was too dark to see clearly, the crescent moon visible between clouds, then hidden again. I needed to wake her up, I decided, so that she could tell me where she was injured. Why there was so much blood…No, first I needed to cut her free. I sawed at the rope around her legs. This was cleaner, without the blood coating, so it was the work of barely a moment to free her completely.
"Wake up, angel. Now you're free." I'm not sure if I just thought it or if I said it aloud.
I poured the contents of the bottle of saline onto a bandage and started washing her face, willing her to wake up. She stirred at the cold touch and I tried to reassure her.
I thought I heard a car door slam, back on the road. I left her to walk back to the road, to see if the ambulance had arrived, but there was no one there, just my car. I walked up and down the road a bit, looking, but saw nothing and no one.
So I headed back to her. Too late.
I could see their silhouettes in the moonlight, her lying on the sand, him crouching next to her or on top of her, I couldn’t say. By the time I was close enough to tell, he’d stood up and started walking to meet me. She just lay there not moving and I could feel my heart freeze as I wondered if she was already dead. "She can’t be, she can’t
be..." I mumbled to myself, forcing my legs to keep trudging toward them.
"Are you listening?" he hissed. I knew he’d been speaking already, but I never heard it, so I can’t remember it. "I said if you want her, now’s your last chance. She doesn’t fight as much any more. May as well do her before you kill her."
Some ancient instinct stirred at the thought, I am ashamed to admit, and more besides. Traitor, I thought, willing it to go down, as I trudged across the beach to where she lay, naked on the sand.
Mike tossed me his gun and I almost missed it. My palms were sweaty and the gun threatened to slip out of my hand onto the sand, though I clutched at it like a lifeline. "You can do this," I muttered aloud to myself.
As though he’d heard, Mike called out, "Go on, Chris. Oh, and give her a little kiss to wake her up, before you stick it in her."
My eyes on her, I registered dully that, shining in the moonlight, there was a slick of fresh blood on her thighs from what he’d done to her before I’d got here.
I’d reached her by then. There was no need to wake her up – her eyes stared blankly at the sky. I fell to my knees beside her and still she didn’t move. The ice in my heart spread throughout my body as I thought, Oh my God, she’s already dead. I leaned over, cupped her cheek in my free hand, closed my eyes and kissed her cold lips. I was so stunned I barely felt her icy fingers on the gun in my hand, forcing it slowly up. I sat up, jolted up by the thought that she was still alive, barely registering that she’d made me bring the gun up to her face, where she held the barrel to her forehead.
"Do it," she rasped, holding the barrel firmly in her twisted fingers. Her eyes still stared up at the sky, not at me. No longer blank, now they were full of pain and anguish and…defeat? "I’ve had enough pain. Give me death. Please. Before the pain comes back." Her eyes begged me now, dark pools in her face that seemed to drag me in, eyes that I wanted to see laughing, defiant, even crying, ANYTHING but this, like twin black holes pulling on my heart. "End it." Her fingers crept up the gun, but she didn’t have the strength to move the trigger.
My heart dropped to new depths of despair. I'd promised her I wouldn't let them hurt her again, yet it had happened twice. I owed her more than I could ever repay. I couldn't let her die – by his hand or hers. Or mine.
Mike’s voice came from behind me, coming closer. "Want me to show you how to do it? Sure, this one’s even better than your sister was. I wonder how good the other one will be..."
If her eyes were black holes, I felt like a sun about to go nova. My eyes held hers as I rose to my feet, wrenching the gun from her fingers. I heard the snap of bone as she cried out in pain. A heart-wrenching sound that would haunt me later, but I felt almost numb to it at the time. End it, I thought.
I swung around and shot him, point blank in the chest, where his heart should have been. Then again, in the head, over and over, 'til the gun was empty and he had to be dead, as he slumped onto the sand. I lowered the gun and walked over to him. I pulled his shirt over his head, though it was already covered in blood and gained more in the process, and checked for a pulse. Dead, after all this time, finally DEAD. I spat on his corpse and carried the shirt he didn’t need any more back to her.
She was barely conscious and so cold she wasn’t even shivering, as I struggled to put the bloody shirt on her. It might have reached her knees, had she the strength to stand, but I doubted she’d manage that tonight.
I opened my jacket, then slid an arm under her shoulders to help her to sit up. I held a blanket against her back as I wrapped my arms around her, trying to share my body warmth. She slumped against me as I called her name over and over, urging her to wake up.
"Why? The nightmares aren’t as bad," she grumbled finally, her eyes still closed. I could have cried, I could have kissed her, I could have danced with her all along the beach, because in my head I was almost singing, She’s conscious, and if I can keep her that way 'til she’s warm she’s going to live and I won’t have killed her, I won’t…One less crime on my conscience tonight.
Instead, I replied, "It’s over. They’re not going to hurt you again."
She gave a breathy snort of laughter. "Promise?" Her tone was wistful, though she also sounded resigned to hearing a no.
The only way I could make sure I hadn’t killed her was to keep her alive. "I swear I’ll never let them hurt you, ever again."
"Then you'll have to kill them all," she said. "Because they won't let me live. Or you, either. We can identify them."
"It doesn't matter," I replied. "We'll say I did it. I hurt you. You'll go to hospital and my sister will be safe. I'll…get arrested. Go to prison. And it'll be okay."
I became aware of something in my pocket. Reaching in, I pulled out the forgotten can of Coke. I cracked it open and took a mouthful, before I pushed the can to her lips. "Drink this. It's Coke. The sugar'll give you some energy."
She opened her eyes, looking bewildered, before she took a sip. I held the can for her – gun in one hand, can in the other – as she drank, until she'd finished it. When it was empty, I dropped it on the sand, not caring about anything but her.
"You need to warm up. You’re too cold," I told her, wrapping the blanket tighter around her, pulling her closer to me. "Stay with me, angel. You need to stay awake 'til you’re warm. Tell me about your family."
"Caitlin," she mumbled.
She was still sleepy from the pills. Pills I shouldn’t have given her, I realised now, too late. "Hmmm?"
"Caitlin. My name is Caitlin."
"I know," I replied softly. "You didn't want me to…"
"My friend. You…saved my life. That makes you my friend. You can…call me by my name." She coughed violently and rested her head against me.
"Sure, angel. Caitlin." I corrected. "It'll take some getting used to. Is it okay if I occasionally call you angel, too?"
She nodded slowly, her body growing heavier as she drowsed. But I couldn't let her sleep. Not yet.
I repeated my question. "Tell me about your family. The people who'll be really relieved to see you very soon." I was patient. What else did I have to do but keep her awake and help her get warm until the ambulance came?
"I don’t have much family. My mother died when I was very little – I don’t remember her. There’s just my father and he works away so much, on contracts, that I don’t know if he’ll even know I’ve been gone..." Her voice faded and I tried to think of something else to ask her, to keep her talking, but my mind was blank when she suddenly asked, "What day is it? I mean, the date?"
I had to think a moment, then checked my watch. "It’s the 31st of July."
She let out a wordless exclamation, then swallowed. After a few moments, she spoke again. "Then the semester’s started. I’ll be so behind."
I fought down a laugh. Just like Alanna, her first thoughts were to her studies. Not how long those bastards had her, not how many days 'til her birthday…how many days she was into the semester.
My blank mind coalesced into a question. "What are you studying?"
"Medicine." She started coughing.
I automatically tried to pull the blanket tighter around her, my mind suddenly anything but blank. Full of questions, I didn’t know which one to ask first.
How old are you?
Did you know Alanna?
Why did I never see you there?
What would a normal person ask first?
"How long have you been studying that?" I tried to ask casually, but I found I was gritting my teeth.
"One semester," she croaked, her throat still sounding raw from all the coughing.
So she started after...I took a year off. She couldn’t have known Alanna. I wouldn't have seen her. That'd make her around eighteen.
"What made you choose medicine?" I asked.
She cleared her throat twice before the words came out in her voice. "Someone told me once that it helped them feel better just because I was there. I remember feeling useless and wishing I knew enoug
h to be able to do something more material to help them. I went and got my first aid certificate, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to be a doctor because...one day I could save someone’s life and that makes it all worth it..."
She continued speaking, but I didn’t hear it. The voice I heard was Alanna’s. "What if after all my study I could save someone’s life? How could you want to do anything less, if it meant someone could die if you didn’t do everything you could?"
Don’t let her die. Keep her alive.
I became aware of the faint sound of sirens, coming closer, as I realised Caitlin had fallen silent, her head coming to rest on my chest.
"Stay with me, Caitlin. You can’t sleep yet," I warned her.
She raised her head. "Tell me about you, instead," she mumbled. "I don’t know anything about you, not even your real name, nothing, except that you finally want to help me. Pity you’re not a doctor..."
That night I wished I was a doctor – how much she’d never know.
I tried to laugh it off. "I’m dull and boring. If I tell you about me, I'll put you to sleep. Maybe later, when you’re warm and having trouble getting to sleep."
"So tired." She yawned. "It’s hard to imagine having trouble getting to sleep. It’s too hard trying to stay awake...Tell me something interesting about you, something that will help me stay awake."
I hesitated, opened my mouth to say something even as I didn’t know what to say. "I’ll tell you my real name when you’re safe in hospital," I lied. "Hang on until then and I swear I’ll tell you anything you want to know." I wouldn't be allowed to go with her to hospital – I was about to be arrested.
"Okay..." she began grudgingly, "but..."
Red and blue flashing lights lit up the beach. People in police uniform came spilling out of the dunes, shouting incoherently, as I strained to hear her finish what she’d tried to say.
"It's all right, angel," I said softly. "The police are here. They'll take the vicious, raping bastard away and you'll be safe."
Her reaction was the opposite of what I’d expected. She clutched at me, her arms suddenly around me under my jacket. "No. They'll find a way to kill us. If you leave me alone, they'll hurt me again. They won't want to leave witnesses. Don’t leave me. You promised!"
Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller Page 22