by Anna Willett
Chapter Ten
Milly jerked and tried to swat at her face. The movement sent tendrils of pain through her head and a whip-crack of agony across her left wrist. There was no feeling in her right arm. She blinked, her eyes felt sticky with grit and her tongue plastered to the roof of her mouth. The sound of magpies warbling assaulted her ears.
The fire had burned down to nothing more than a pile of ashes with a wisp of smoke rising lazily in the pale grey light. Milly tried to sit up, but her right arm remained pinned under her weight, refusing to move. She rolled onto her back; above her the jagged outline of the cliff blocked the sky. Her recollection of the previous night was cloudy. She had no idea if she’d passed out or fallen asleep. Where’s Judith?
Still huddled under the sleeping bag, she worked her right hand into a fist, opening and closing it trying to force the useless limb back to life. Pins and needles danced up her arm as the feeling gradually returned. She pushed herself into a sitting position and looked around.
She spotted her sister slumped against the rock face, her head hidden by the hood of a black fleecy jacket. The knife, still open, lay in her lap. Milly let out a long shuddering breath. For a moment, she’d feared Judith had left her in the wilds to fend for herself. Or worse, she’d been taken.
A chill seemed to rise from the ground beneath her, saturating her shorts and shirt with clingy dampness. The trees were blanketed in soft, smoky mist that floated between the trunks and curled around the branches. Milly realised she was seeing everything for the first time. Yesterday, after the fall, she’d been too dazed to take in her surroundings. When the screaming started, she’d been frightened, struggling to see in the dark. The morning light revealed the bleak beauty of the landscape as well as a feeling of isolation.
It seemed they were in a valley at the edge of a forest of sorts. She recalled looking down on the area from above. Lucas had said something about another way down, but her thoughts were still muddy. She snatched up her pack using her right hand to sift through the contents. She found the pill bottle at the bottom of her bag and managed to unscrew it using one hand. She’d dreamt of the Reach again last night. The images and sounds hauntingly clear in her mind. A knot of anxiety sat in the pit of her stomach. Something strange – dangerous even – was unfolding around her. She had to keep her nerves under control, if not for herself then for Judith’s sake. She glanced over at her sister. Satisfied she was still asleep, she swallowed a tiny red pill dry and put the bottle back in the pack.
“You’re up,” Judith’s voice, croaky with sleep, made her jump.
“Yes. Just thinking about coffee.”
“How’s your head?” Judith stretched her back and groaned. Her face was hidden under the shadow of the hood.
Milly touched her fingers to the back of her head where her hair lay matted over a large fluid-filled bubble. “Still sore. Did you hear any more screams?” she hesitated. “You know, after I …” Milly let her words trail off.
“You passed out, Mil.” Judith’s tone sounded flat, exhausted. “But to answer your question, no. No more screams, but I’m sure something was moving around out there.” She gestured towards the trees. “I don’t think we should stay here waiting any longer. I’m worried about that head injury. I know you had a few sips of vodka, but that doesn’t explain why you passed out cold.” She pushed the hood back. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. “And I’m worried about Harper. If they made it back to the carpark, help would be here by now.”
Milly wanted to argue, tell her she was overreacting, but she’d be lying and she’d done too much of that over the years. “You’re right. We should go. Lucas said something about there being another way down here.” Milly rubbed her palm across her forehead as if trying to force the memory.
Judith waited, her eyes trained on her sister. “It’ll come to me,” Milly said. She tried to focus on her last memories before she fell. She didn’t want to climb down. She could almost hear Lucas’s impatient, almost angry voice. It came to her. “No climbing required.” She repeated his words aloud, nodding. “He said we could go south, it would take three hours and be steep, but no climbing.”
“Alright,” Judith stood. “I’ll pack our stuff. We’ll eat then move.” She looked smaller draped in Milly’s hoodie. Judith must have noticed her sister eyeing the jacket. “I got it out of your pack. Here.” She pulled on the zip. “You should wear it, it’s freezing.”
“No. That’s okay. I’ll wear the track pants, you keep the jacket.”
They ate protein bars washed down with sips of water. Not the tastiest breakfast Milly had ever had, but at least they were together. Together and speaking. Milly wondered if now might be a good time to start being honest with her sister. She waited until Judith had finished her last bite of food.
“About Mum’s house.” Her stomach did a strange flip flop. “I know you want to keep it, but…”
“Yes, I do. I tried to tell you that yesterday and in my email.” Judith’s tone hardened. “It would be nice if you would at least think about what I’m asking before you shut me down.”
Their mother had made Milly executor of her estate. Maybe that was part of the problem. Judith resented her for what happened at the Reach; Milly accepted that, even though it had been Judith who caused the whole thing. Not all of it was my fault, she reminded herself.
Milly shook her head and a stab of pain blossomed at the back of her skull. “Just let me explain?”
“You don’t need to.” Judith stuffed the wrapper from her protein bar in the front pocket of her shorts. “Mum put you in charge. She never really trusted me after …” her words faltered. “After what happened. I’ve had to live with it. You ran away and I was the one everyone blamed.” Judith pulled the knife out of her waistband and opened the blade.
Milly’s eyes widened and her jaw fell open. She shuffled back on her bottom trying to put some distance between herself and the knife.
Judith frowned and her eyes moved between her sister and the knife in her hand. “Oh for God’s sake, Milly.” Judith’s eyes widened in surprise. “You think I’d stab you?” her voice trembled. “What do you think I am?”
“No. No, I didn’t think that.” Milly’s face felt hot. “I’m just…”
“Forget it.” Judith’s tone was thick with emotion. She shrugged off the jacket and untucked her shirt. She used the blade to cut a strip of fabric off the entire rim of the garment. She did the same again and then held the knife in her teeth while she tied the two strips together.
“Stand up,” she ordered.
With her left side knotted in pain, Milly struggled to stand. Judith flung the strip of fabric over her shoulder and grabbed Milly under her arm.
“I saw this in a movie,” Judith spoke around the handle of the knife. She took hold of the back of Milly’s shirt and pulled it up around her chest. Milly gasped as the cold air hit her. “Sorry,” Judith said and pressed the wadded-up strip of fabric to the wound. “Now hold it there,” she instructed. “You’ve got a nasty gash on your side.”
Milly did as she was told, realising what her sister had in mind. Judith laid the remaining strip of fabric across Milly’s back. She wrapped the fabric around Milly’s stomach and repeated the process, stepping around her sister and tying the makeshift bandage just above Milly’s navel. When she finished, Milly’s back and belly were tightly wrapped.
“I’d say you wrenched a muscle when you fell. With your lower back immobilised, it won’t be as painful when we walk.” Judith stood in front of her, tilting her chin to look up into her sister’s face. Up close, Milly could see the fine lines that circled Judith’s eyes. At twenty-seven, her sister looked drawn and solemn. Two years her senior, Milly wondered if the years of guilt had left her with similar signs of anguish.
“Thanks, Jude.” Milly hesitated, “I lost my job.” It wasn’t how she’d rehearsed it in her mind, but the words were out and she felt relieved.
“What?” Judith drew her brows
together, her mouth tightened.
“I haven’t worked in nearly a year.” Once she’d started, the words tumbled out. “I’ve been having problems. Problems at work and, and you know, just keeping things together. The pills you found, they’re for anxiety and depression.” Milly half-turned away and focused on the trees. The mist still hung in the air as if suspended by invisible hands. “That’s why I wanted us to sell the house … I need the money.”
She felt Judith’s hand on her shoulder, but kept her eyes trained on the hazy forest. Her face burned and her heart rate quickened. What am I doing? Did she really want to start confessing her sins to Judith? Afraid of what she might say next, she bit on her injured lip and winced as the salty taste of blood filled her mouth.
“It’s good you’re being honest with me,” Judith spoke softly as if dealing with someone unstable. “You can tell me the truth, whatever that may be.”
Milly’s head swung around. “What? What do you mean? I … I just told you why I wanted to sell the house. What more truth do you want?”
Judith’s hand dropped from Milly’s shoulder. She shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just glad you told me.” She gave a brief smile. “Are you ready to go?”
Milly looked around the makeshift campsite, then up at the cliff. “Yeah. I’ll just duck into the trees for a pee.”
* * *
Judith watched Milly make her way into the trees. She seemed to be lurching to the right. Maybe the back pain was throwing her off balance, but Judith had a grim inkling the head injury was the problem. Since the fall, her sister had been behaving strangely. What do I know? I haven’t spoken to her in ten years. Still, the sooner they were out of the National Park, the better. Babysitting Milly through a head injury had never been the plan.
How did things get so complicated? It started out as a simple idea; spend a few days alone with her sister. Sort things out, get to the truth. After ten years of secrets and lies had she really believed Milly would admit the truth? Judith wondered if Milly knew what the truth was. One thing was for sure, she’d made a mistake letting Lucas get involved.
He’d been so sure of himself, the expert on hiking and abseiling. The Leeuwin-Naturaliste National Park had been his idea. Judith rubbed her fingers over her eyes. She felt so damn tired. Last night after the screaming started, she’d been too scared to sleep. Everything had gone to hell and now Milly was hurt and Harper and Lucas were God knows where.
How did the idea go from a hiking trip to dropping her sister off a cliff? They’d talked the plan through, going round and round, but it always came back to the same thing – frighten Milly into spitting out what really happened at the Reach. Harper never liked the idea, but Lucas promised them nothing could go wrong. Judith made a clicking noise with her tongue. What the fuck was I thinking?
She picked up Milly’s pack and swung it over her shoulders. Tilting her head, she regarded the cliff. What the hell had Lucas and Harper been thinking? They were supposed to drop Milly a few metres. Enough to scare her, instead they’d nearly killed her. Judith ran her fingers through her hair. The sickening thump when Milly hit the ground echoed in her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to block the sound and image.
She’d been angry with her sister for so long, she didn’t think she had any other feelings left for her. But yesterday when she thought she’d lost her, it felt like being torn in two. And what about Harper? Judith turned around and strained her eyes trying to see through the trees. Something had happened, she could feel it in her bones. Harper would never leave her out here. Frightened and worried sick. The only other explanation didn’t bear thinking about.
If something’s happened to Harper, it’ll be just like Drew: my fault. She’d lived with the guilt of Drew’s death and somehow found a way to move on, mostly by blaming her sister. This time she would have to bear the guilt alone, and without Harper she couldn’t see a future. Judith wondered what the hell they’d hoped to achieve by getting Milly out here and frightening her. The truth. Wasn’t that what all this was about?
“Judith,” Milly’s voice, shrill and panicked rang out.
Judith sprinted into the trees pushing branches and bushes aside, the pack bounced against her spine and scraped up and down her neck. A thin vapour still hung in the air, blurring the lines between foliage and ground. Her boot caught on something and she stumbled to the left, catching herself against the barrel-sized trunk of what might have been a gum tree.
“Judith!” Her sister’s voice louder and to the right.
Judith jerked her head around, confused. The mist and dense forest caught the sound and played it back and forth making it difficult for her to pinpoint the origin of the call.
Judith cupped her hands around her mouth. “Where are you?”
A second later, Milly’s voice felt clear enough to be almost next to her, “Here.”
Judith turned towards the sound and rounded a snatch of bushes. Milly, eyes wide and track pants clutched at her waist, stood unmoving amongst the misty greenery. Her face, already bleached of colour from the head injury, looked ashen.
Judith stepped towards her, arms out ready to catch her if she went down, but something in her sister’s face stopped her. Judith realised it wasn’t pain, but fear etched into Milly’s features. Turning her head, she followed Milly’s gaze.
Judith sucked in a sharp breath and pressed a hand against her open mouth. Strung from a low-hanging branch less than a metre away, a shredded backpack turned lazily in the morning breeze. She reached out a hand and stilled the movement.
“It’s Harper’s.” Milly’s voice, little more than a whisper, dragged her attention away from the pack. “It’s just like mine only black. She helped me pick it out.”
“We need to move.” Judith turned to her sister. “Now.”
Chapter Eleven
The husk of a burnt-out gum tree offered shelter from the cold. He’d denied himself sleep, preferring to watch the night sky and listen. There’d been no trace of Blondie since she’d given him the slip, but that meant nothing. Out here he was the powerful one. Losing her had been an oversight, but not unrepairable.
Pale light cut through the trees and sent jagged streaks across the surrounding foliage. He breathed deeply, sucking in the crisp cool air. It will be a good day. A day to turn things around. He’d been the weak one once, frightened and terrorised but slowly he’d taken back the power. His mind drifted back to the old woman.
Finding her house had been simple. Once he made certain of Blondie’s connection to Judith Birdsworth, locating Judith and Millicent’s mother had been easier than he’d ever dreamed. The tricky part came when he tried to get inside. He thought of the manicured gardens of the huge house, and bitter tasting bile filled his mouth. He spat a glob of frothy liquid onto the blackened roots of the tree and absently trailed the toe of his boot through the mess.
He’d sat, much like he did now, in the gardens and watched the old lady. He remembered seeing her open the double glass doors – they had some fancy name but he couldn’t think of it – and wander around near the sparkling pool. She was rich, he’d always known that, but until he saw the house, he hadn’t really understood what that meant. A writer, that’s what the old lady called herself. She wrote crappy romance stuff about the olden days. He’d tried to read one, but it was worse than the stuff they forced on him at school.
Above him, magpies sung as if announcing the dawn. His eyes, glassy with lack of sleep, watched a distant place only visible to him. He had patience, he’d proved that to himself time and again. Four times he’d sat in the old lady’s garden, watching – waiting for her to leave the doors open. Sometimes he liked to think of himself as a snake; clever and watchful, slipping through the world unnoticed until he decided to strike.
The day he’d finally made it inside … his mind faltered. Her name, the old lady’s, something old-fashioned like the sisters. He tapped his fingers on the rough bark of the tree. Amy? No, Amelia. Yeah, that’s it. He said the na
me aloud, enjoying the way his voice rose when he hit the a at the end. Amelia Birdsworth. Poor old cow; his mind conjured up an image of the woman, standing at the top of the stairs. She’d been so surprised to find him behind her, it’d taken him only the slightest push to send her reeling down the stairs.
He recalled the way her mouth hung open like one of those clowns you drop balls in to. It really was funny. He chuckled and his fingers drummed faster against the tree. When she hit the stairs, her old bones started snapping like pretzels. By the time she rolled over and hit the tiled floor at the bottom, she wasn’t a pretty sight.
Thinking about Amelia Birdsworth sent a shiver of excitement racing across his shoulders. After the fall, he’d crouched over her and watched her breathing. At one point, her eyes opened and she started to crow like an old chook. He leaned over her and sniffed. She’d pissed herself, he could smell it.
“When I’m done with you, I’m going to find your daughters and have a really good time with them.” He whispered the words in her ear, letting his lips brush against her skin.
That really got her going. He chuckled at the memory. She managed to turn her head and look at him. Man, if looks could kill. That old bird would have skinned me alive. But she wasn’t able to do anything by then but crow and gag. He felt almost sorry when she finally gave up and died. He wished he hadn’t pushed her down the stairs. He should have taken his time and enjoyed it a bit more, but he couldn’t risk being caught in the house when one of her old biddy friends came knocking.
She’d been the warm up; soon it would be time for the main event. He stuck his head out from inside the burnt-out tree. The air smelled of mossy rot and the forest looked spooky with mist. He settled back inside his hiding place and let out a contented sigh. He decided to wait a few more minutes, give the air a chance to warm up. There was no great hurry, still plenty of time to find Blondie and start the fun.