RETRIBUTION RIDGE

by Anna Willett

  Chapter Twelve

  The pain in her arm spiked sometime in the night. Harper risked lying on her side, her knees drawn up close to her chin. Thirst and hunger clawed at her insides making every moment torture. Inside the crop of grass trees, thin streaks of grey light climbed over her body. She’d slept, or at least she thought she had. The night, endless and black, was finally over. Mournful cries from the surrounding bush told her the birds were waking. There was no other sound, not that she could detect over the chatter of her teeth.

  If he was still out there, she feared he’d hear, so she made an effort to clench her jaw. Taking care not to make any sound, she managed to sit up. It had been too dark during the night to examine her injury. The pain told her it would not be a pretty sight.

  Her fingers were blue, swollen and curled over. She didn’t bother trying to move them. Harper swallowed and rolled back her sleeve. A coarse breath hissed out from between her gritted teeth. The arm, puffy and unnaturally shiny, resembled an over-ripe plum in colour. Midway between her wrist and elbow, the flesh was torn where a jagged fragment of bone protruded.

  Tears welled up in her eyes and mercifully obscured the injury. If she didn’t get help soon, she had no doubt, she’d die from shock and exposure. Her only option, risk leaving the security of her hiding place and try to find help. Harper swiped at her tears with her uninjured left arm. She had to calm her thoughts and act.

  She tried to think through her next course of action. When he’d chased her, she ran blindly not knowing or caring where she ended up. Now Harper had no idea where she was. The sun rises in the east, her mind raced. That means, if I keep the sun at my back when I’m moving, I’ll hit the coast. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it would have to do. If she could reach the coast, that should run her into the trail and maybe other hikers.

  She shuffled forward on her butt and hesitated. Judith. There were people out there in danger, people she loved. Had he gone after them? Her instincts told her to find help, but could she leave them? In this condition, I’m no good to anyone. Maybe, if she could find her way out of this godforsaken place, she could bring back help.

  Harper edged her way between the blackened trunks and into the light. Her whole body trembled as a combination of fear and cold struck her. The crackle of leaves and twigs underfoot seemed unnaturally loud.

  Staggering to her feet, she paused only long enough to glance up searching for the sun. Still low in the sky, the golden ball hung like a dazzling smudge blanketed by cloud. Satisfied she’d pin-pointed west, Harper cradled her injured right arm with her left and got moving. She exited the safety of her hiding place and headed in what she hoped was the right direction.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Judith kept her arm around Milly’s waist. Their combined breathing filled Milly’s ears, blocking out all other sound. Every inch of the dense bush looked the same as the last except for the odd burnt-out tree trunk or dome-shaped termite mound. Milly guessed they’d been moving away from the cliff site for at least fifteen minutes, but it could have been longer.

  “I have to stop,” she managed to say around pants of breath. “I’m sorry, Jude, but I just need to sit for a second.”

  Judith’s grip loosened. “Okay, but not for long.”

  Milly’s legs folded under her and she sank to the ground. The pain in her skull had receded to a dull thud leaving a high-pitched buzzing that reminded her of the noise the TV made when it malfunctioned. She pressed her right hand to her ear and tried to block out the sound.

  “How do you think Harper’s pack got in that tree?” Judith crouched down next to her.

  Milly could hear the fear in her sister’s voice. “What’s really going on here?” Milly asked, ignoring Judith’s question.

  Judith’s expression confirmed her suspicions; she knew more than she was letting on. Milly watched her sister’s face change from surprised to guarded. The transformation was complete in the blink of an eye, as if a veil dropped over her features, covering her reaction.

  “What do you mean?”

  Milly sighed. “I might have hit my head and not talked to you in ten years, but I still know when you’re hiding something.”

  Judith looked over Milly’s head as if studying something in the forest. “There is something I need to tell you.” She turned her attention back to her sister. “And I will. But not now. We have to keep moving and get out of here.”

  Milly shook her head, sending a cord of agony through her skull. Letting a breath out through her nose, she kept her expression even. She had no intention of moving until she had more information. “So you do know what’s going on?”

  “No. I swear.” Judith held her sister’s gaze. “You said you can still tell when I’m holding something back, so you should be able to see I’m telling the truth.”

  Milly regarded her sister. Her blue eyes were red rimmed and puffy. The guarded expression erased to be replaced, by what? Milly wasn’t sure. If she had to guess, she’d say Judith was telling the truth, but would she stake her life on it?

  “I’m not moving till you tell me what’s going on.”

  Judith screwed up her eyes and shook her head. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture towards the surrounding trees. “I have no idea what’s happening. The screaming, Harper’s pack, I’m as confused as you are.” Judith dropped onto her knees and her shoulders sagged. “There’s things I need to tell you, but not about all this and not now.” Her tone softened. “We’re in danger. I can feel it and so can you. That’s all I know.”

  Milly wanted to believe her. The alternative – that her sister was somehow involved in hurting and terrifying her – seemed too awful to contemplate.

  “Here,” Judith slipped off the pack and pulled out the water bottle. “Have a sip. There’s not much left in this one.” She waggled the bottle sending the contents sloshing from side to side. “You’ve got another full one in the pack, but we need to make it last.”

  Milly took the bottle and resisted the urge to gulp down the contents. Her throat felt swollen and hot. She took a small sip and handed it back; she noticed her hand, caked in grime and blood, and trembled. Judith had been right; she could feel danger. It was almost palpable, like something in the air making her skin tingle and her limbs feel jittery. As if the forest itself were a living being and could hear her thoughts, a rustle too loud to be caused by the wind came from behind them.

  The women locked eyes. Judith swung the pack onto her shoulders and grabbed Milly under her arm. “Let’s go,” she whispered, and the two moved forward.

  Milly knew her watch was lost, but she still had her phone in the pack. Even without a signal, it would still show the time. She wanted to ask Judith to stop and check, but the look of grim determination made it clear that her sister had no intention of stopping or slowing down. If she had to guess, judging by the angle of the sun, she’d put the time at around 11:00 a.m. That meant they’d been walking for hours. Maybe three.

  The whining in her ears continued, at first disconcerting and annoying, now almost crippling in its persistence. Mercifully, the pain in her skull had retreated to a mild pounding. Around them the forest was an endless wash of trees and bushes with nothing to mark their progress. Apart from the tweeting of birds and the buzz of midges, they’d heard nothing.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” Milly asked, scratching at her neck where a cluster of insect bites rasped against her collar.

  Judith had released her grip on Milly’s waist and now walked a few steps ahead of her.

  “I’m not sure.” Judith stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Based on what Lucas said, we should be almost at a point where we can turn west and expect to start seeing the landscape grow rocky and steep.” She let out a deep breath. “To be honest, when we saw Harper’s pack and started moving, I didn’t stop to consider which way we were headed so now I’m still trying to figure it out.”

  “So we could be head
ing away from the hiking trail?” Milly tried to keep the frustration out of her voice. None of this was Judith’s fault. Was it?

  “I don’t think so,” she spoke slowly. Milly thought she sounded unsure.

  “I haven’t heard anyone following us.” Milly looked around. “We might be safe to stop for a while.”

  “If you need a rest, we’ll stop.” Judith dropped the pack and sat. The carpet of leaves and forest debris crunched under her.

  Milly wrapped her arms around her body and lowered herself to the ground. For the time being, exhaustion took precedence over fear. The muscles in her thighs ached. Not with the same intensity as the pain in her back, but she needed rest. Judith looked fatigued. Milly could see it in the stoop of her shoulders and the paleness of her face.

  “Can you check the time on my phone?” Suddenly she wanted the comfort of her phone more than anything. Even without a signal, it was a link to the outside world. She could keep track of their progress. It wasn’t much, just something to hold on to.

  “There’s no phone in your pack.” Judith pulled out an energy bar. “Here, you look done in. This’ll help.”

  Milly was having trouble processing her sister’s words. She knew her phone was in her pack. Why would Judith lie?

  “I know it’s in there. I put it in the pouch on the opposite side to my water bottle.” Milly ignored the energy bar in her sister’s outstretched hand. “Why are you saying it’s not there?” She could hear her voice rising to an accusing pitch, but didn’t care.

  Judith tossed the bar back in the pack. “It’s not there, Mil. If you don’t believe me, look for yourself.” She pushed the pack towards her sister.

  Milly snatched up the blue backpack and plonked it between her legs. Searching it was difficult with one hand. She checked the side pouches; both were empty. The zip compartment on the outside contained a strip of Band-Aids, a couple of packets of tissues and two Ziploc bags. A weight formed in her chest, like something round and hard. She glanced up at Judith. Her expression remained impassive.

  Milly flipped the top of the pack open and rummaged through the contents. How could her phone have disappeared? Judith had been the only other person to handle the pack. The weight in her chest dropped and a sickening feeling swept over her. With the nausea came anger. This whole thing had been Judith’s idea. She’d got her out here in the middle of nowhere to do what? Punish her? Torture her?

  “Why are you doing this?” Milly’s voice came out as a tight croak.

  “I’m not doing anything,” Judith snapped back. “I told you, I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Yeah. Well if that’s true, why’d you take my phone?” Milly didn’t wait for her to answer. Using her good hand, she pushed off the ground. “Where is it?” She took a step towards Judith and stood over her. “Give me my phone.”

  Judith scrabbled to her feet. They were standing only centimetres apart. Milly could hear her sister’s heavy breathing, there was a glassy look in her eyes.

  “Mil, please stop. You need to calm down. You’re not thinking clearly.” She tried to put her hand on Milly’s shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

  “I charged my phone in the car and then put it in my pack before we left.” Milly pointed at the pack. “You’re the only other person to touch…” Her voice trailed off. She put her hand to her neck. She recalled Harper’s voice near her ear and her breath on her neck. Harper tugging on the pack from behind. Could she have taken the phone?

  Confused, Milly closed her eyes. If this buzzing would stop, I could think straight.

  “What?” Judith cut through the noise.

  Milly opened her eyes and blinked. She hadn’t realised she’d spoken her thoughts. Judith’s face appeared to fill the world. Milly wanted to go home, wherever that might be. In that moment, anywhere with walls and a bed would do. The trees seemed to crowd in around them and Judith was too close. Milly could feel a knot twisting in her stomach and her chest heaving.

  “Did you hear that?” Judith wrapped her hand around Milly’s wrist and squeezed.

  “Is this some sort of game?” Milly managed around shallow breaths.

  “It’s not a game.” Judith’s voice dropped, “If you don’t believe anything else, believe me when I say, this is real.” She let go of Milly’s wrist, pulled the knife out of her front pocket and snapped it open. “There’s a rock there.” Judith pointed at the ground. “Pick it up and get ready.”

  A crack, the sound of a thin branch snapping, echoed off the trees. Milly hesitated. There could be no mistaking what she heard. Something large moved beyond her field of vision. Still hyperventilating, she crouched and picked up the rock. Its weight felt good in her hand.

  Judith’s shoulders were hunched and her body bent forward. She looked like a wrestler getting ready to pounce on her opponent. This can’t be happening, Milly told herself. We’re near Yallingup for God’s sake, the only large dangerous animals in this part of Western Australia are the human kind.

  “We’ll stand back-to-back,” Judith whispered keeping her eyes focused on the trees. “Whichever way he comes, we’ll be ready.”

  They were in a small clearing, ringed by trees and dense bush. The morning mist had cleared revealing thick scrub varying in colour from lush green to washed-out silvery grey. The vegetation crowed in, making it almost impossible to see beyond the first few metres of green.

  “You think it’s a man?” A ridiculous question. What else could it be? But isolated and terrified, all sorts of possibilities ran through her mind.

  “Yeah,” Judith answered. “And we’re going to give him one hell of a fight.”

  In the midst of panic and fear, Milly had time to marvel at the woman her baby sister had become. She was afraid, Milly could see it in the way the knife trembled in her hand. She could hear it in the catch in her sister’s voice, yet she stood ready to take on whatever came at them. An old familiar feeling swept over her, she recognised it as a deep protective instinct. Time seemed to evaporate and Judith was eight years old again; small and trusting. Milly, the older sister, wanted to keep her out of harm’s way.

  “Run,” Milly whispered. Cold trickles of sweat formed under her arms and between her breasts.

  “What?” Judith’s focus shifted to her sister.

  “You’re fast. You can out run him.” Milly nudged her, trying to make her move. “Don’t wait for me, just go.”

  Another crack, this time closer and to the left. A flock of cockatoos took flight, their startled cries mingled with furious flapping to create a deafening chorus.

  Judith gasped but stood her ground. “I’m not leaving you. We’ll get through this together.”

  Milly opened her mouth to argue, but the words lodged in her throat. As the birds’ cries receded overhead, the unmistakable sound of boots crunching on the forest debris took its place. The footfalls were heavy, lumbering. Cracking and snapping followed as the unseen intruder broke through the trees and rushed the women.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Harper’s tongue felt large and dry inside her mouth, like a strip of Velcro. She’d had nothing to drink since yesterday afternoon. In addition to her injured arm, her whole body felt fragile and achy, almost feverish. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward. Each step jarred, sending shockwaves from her feet to her arm.

  She turned and, for probably the tenth time, checked the angle of the sun. It was still low in the sky, behind and to her left. She guessed it was around 11 a.m. When she started walking, she promised herself a break every ten minutes, but as the morning dragged on she seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace. In addition to her weakened body, the feeling that someone was lurking nearby, ready to pounce, tortured her mind. She began to consider finding another hiding place and crawling inside.

  The landscape veered upwards and changed from thick forest to scraggy bush. She spotted a fallen gum, its trunk as thick as a beer barrel. There were scorch marks along one side and nea
r the centre, a gaping hole. Harper leaned her butt against the trunk. She considered pulling her sleeve back and taking another look at her broken arm. The image of the shiny white fragment jutting out of her skin flashed in her mind and her stomach clenched. No, she couldn’t risk setting off a vomiting fit, she was dehydrated enough. She closed her eyes and waited for her stomach to stop cramping.

  Something skittered past her ankle making her gasp and stumble forward. She scanned the base of the fallen tree for signs of a snake and spotted a large goanna diving for cover under the blackened bark.

  Harper let out a long breath and watched the creature desperately trying to hide itself under the gum tree. Stubby legs moving in slow sweeping jerks and its thick body swaying left and right in an awkward rhythm. A kookaburra let out a peel of laughter. Harper turned her head and spotted the bird on a low-lying branch a few metres away. It turned its head to the side and surveyed the scene. Probably trying to decide if the goanna’s too heavy to pick up and carry, Harper thought with a shudder. The bird’s predatory gaze made her want to pick up a rock and throw it at the creature. She even went as far as looking around for something suitable to hurl before a rustling from the nearby trees reminded her she was as vulnerable as the lizard.

  She needed to keep moving. If he was still looking for her, there was no way of knowing how close he might be. She gave the fallen trunk a last, longing look. She considered crawling inside the fallen log. It would be dark and safe, a chance to sleep. No. If I crawl in, I’ll die in there, she warned herself. Yes, but at least in there it’ll be quiet and peaceful, if he finds me – she stopped herself. She couldn’t allow her mind to dwell on what might happen. There were people depending on her, one of them Judith. Her feelings for Judith were almost frightening in their intensity. The thought of him hurting her, or worse, was more than Harper could stand.

  She moved away from the goanna and the rapacious kookaburra, and continued forward. She tried to figure out how many more hours it would take her to reach the coast. At her current pace, it couldn’t be more than one or two. If I’m going in the right direction. She looked over her shoulder; the sun high in the sky was partially draped in wispy grey clouds. Had it been lower when she last checked? She couldn’t remember how long she’d spent resting. It had seemed like only minutes, but could her mind be playing tricks on her?