Desolation Game

by Greg McLean

  When he returns to the truck fifteen minutes later, Sarge smiles down at him. ‘So? Was she good?’

  Mick jumps in. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You fuck her hard?’

  Mick nods. ‘I guess you could say that.’

  The sergeant points to some drops of blood on Mick’s pants and his eye narrow. ‘What did you do, Crack Shot?’

  ‘I showed her a machete isn’t just for gardening.’

  Sarge grins, but the grin quickly drops away. ‘You didn’t kill her, did ya?’

  Mick shakes his head. ‘Nah, she’ll live.’

  The sergeant laughs as he pulls away from the village, and Mick realises then that Sarge is right. They are a lot alike.

  7

  Western Australia

  February 1968

  Night settled over the desert. With the onset of darkness the temperature had dropped about fifteen degrees, and millions of pinpricks of light replaced the single giant ball of fire.

  Bruce continued to casually steer the wheel as they were towed at a snail’s pace along the dirt road. Dust swirled in the Kombi’s lights, revealing the arse of the man’s truck with the dull red glow of its taillights, and little else. They could have been on the moon, as blackness had swallowed up the surrounding landscape.

  ‘How much longer?’ Matt groaned from down the back of the van. ‘It feels like we’ve been on this road forever.’

  Bruce agreed. Mick had told them it would take a couple of hours to reach his place. It felt like it had already been four. Where does this guy live – in a hole in the desert?

  ‘All this bouncing around is making me feel sick,’ Steve said.

  The passengers had mostly kept quiet. Cindy, Amber and Akira were even managing to grab a nap, although God knows how they could do it under the circumstances.

  This whole situation made Bruce nervous. He didn’t trust Mick, didn’t like being towed to some stranger’s place in the middle of the desert. But it seemed he was the only one to feel this way.

  Maybe he was being silly. He was suspicious by nature – maybe Mick was just a simple, good-hearted country bloke who genuinely wanted to help. Or a mechanic seeing a can’t-lose opportunity to make some extortionate money.

  ‘Hey, what do you think about Amber?’ Duncan said, quietly.

  Taken from his thoughts, Bruce glanced at Duncan. His best friend had his feet resting on the dashboard. He sat low in the seat and was smoking a cigarette. Nothing seemed to faze Duncan – he was the definition of chilled. Bruce turned his eyes back to the road ahead. ‘She’s okay, I guess. Why?’

  Duncan looked at the sleeping beauty beside him. ‘I think she’s into me. I think I may try my luck with her.’

  ‘Good, go for your life.’

  ‘You should try Jewel. She’s cute, and I’ve seen how she looks at you.’

  Bruce hadn’t noticed. ‘Don’t be a dickhead. She’s not into me, man. And keep your voice down.’

  ‘You don’t like her?’ Duncan whispered.

  ‘I barely know her,’ Bruce answered, voice hushed.

  He glanced up into the rear-view. Jewel was looking out the side windows at the darkness, smoking a cigarette, lost in thought.

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to change that?’ Duncan asked.

  Bruce had to admit, there was something about Jewel that sparked his plugs. Sure she was cute, but there was more to her than that. She was different, mysterious.

  He looked back down and conceded. ‘Yeah, I guess.’

  ‘Well then, you should do something about it,’ Duncan said.

  ‘Maybe. But I can’t think about all that now. We have bigger issues.’

  ‘Like?’

  Bruce sighed. ‘You kidding? Like where is this guy taking us? Can he fix our van? How much time are we gonna waste while we wait for her to be ready? Will we make it to Broome in time to meet up with our Asian friend?’

  Duncan blew out a heavy sigh. ‘Yeah, that is a lot to worry about.’

  ‘Yeah, no shit. I don’t want to have to drive all day and night just so we make it to Broome in time.’ He dropped his voice further still. ‘Christ, we’re supposed to be conducting a holiday tour here. We can’t blow the cover.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll make it. Mick said we’ll have Ursula up and going by tomorrow afternoon. At the latest. We can make up the time, no sweat. May have to miss some of the usual sights, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t think they’ll care.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Bruce said.

  Finally the road was smoothing out. Bruce could make out some shapes, black ridges all around them, darker than the night sky.

  ‘Where the fuck are we?’ Duncan said, sitting up and planting his feet on the floor.

  ‘Looks like a . . . mountain range,’ Bruce said.

  ‘He lives out here?’ Steve said, nose pressed up against a window. ‘Does he have some secret underground lair in the mountains or something?’

  The truck revved as it ascended higher into the dark hills, pulling the VW with ease.

  In the distance, in the light thrown by the truck, Bruce could see the hills give way to something deeper, a crevice cut into one of the hills. It really did look like they’d landed on the moon.

  They headed towards the crater, and as they entered it, they caught sight of a sign: BARDOCH MINING CO.

  ‘A mine?’ Bruce said.

  ‘This is crazy,’ Sam huffed.

  ‘Cool,’ Matt said, straining to get a better look around.

  There were no exterior lights on in the deep-cut mine, the only illumination coming from the vehicles’ headlights, but they revealed a collection of dirty trailers, some with windows cracked or missing altogether, two smaller sheds and a large one, a few cars littered the place, all wheelless and dust-covered, and what looked like rusty mining equipment that might have lay in disuse since the Great Depression. The place appeared to be abandoned.

  The truck came to a stop, and Bruce pulled the Kombi’s handbrake on. The cessation of movement jerked those napping awake.

  ‘We’re here?’ Amber said, yawning.

  ‘Wherever here is,’ Duncan said with nervous laughter.

  Amber glanced up through the windscreen at the steep ragged cliffs, then at the dark jumbled mess of sheds and trailers. ‘What is this place?’

  ‘A mine,’ Duncan said.

  ‘He lives in a mine? Like an abandoned one? A hole in the ground?’

  ‘I don’t think he lives in one of the tunnels,’ Bruce said. ‘Probably in one of the trailers or something. Still, it’s a strange place to call home.’

  ‘I’ll say,’ Amber said.

  The truck continued to idle in front, its powerful lights trained on the large corrugated iron shed.

  ‘Maybe this is where he keeps the spare tyres and other car parts,’ Cindy said. ‘Maybe it’s only a quick stop on the way to his home.’

  Mick hopped out of the truck, engine still running, and strode over to the large shed. He disappeared inside.

  ‘Um, okay . . .’ Amber muttered.

  A moment later, a light flickered until it settled into a moderately bright glow that lit the interior of the old building and spilled out onto the surrounding grounds. Mick’s tall form reappeared from within and he strode back to his truck, killed the lights and the engine, and swung his door shut. ‘Well, what are you lot waiting for?’ he shouted. ‘This is the end of the line.’

  With a sigh, Bruce switched off the VW’s lights.

  With the vehicle lights off, the mine was plunged back into darkness, except for the immediate area around the lit shed. The night was still, deathly quiet. There were no animal noises. It was like they had stepped into a deep, dark pit where nothing had survived. Above them, the multitude of stars glittered.

  One by one, the group disembarked from the Kombi and joined Mick at his truck.

  ‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ Mick said, smiling widely. ‘It ain’t much, but it does the job.’

  �
�So you were a miner before becoming a mechanic?’ Amber asked.

  Mick laughed. ‘Christ, no. I worked on a cattle station. Nah, this is just a place that I found. Okay, I’ll start a fire while you lot get your things together. Now, there are enough places here for everyone to sleep in, if ya want that. Roll out your swags on the floor. The trailers are more spacious than the van, anyway.’

  ‘We have tents,’ Duncan said.

  Mick huffed, loudly. ‘Tent? Look around ya, mate. This ain’t the kind of soil to be pitchin’ tents. I mean, you can try, but don’t blame me when, during the night, the damn thing falls down on ya.’

  ‘The trailers will be fine,’ Bruce said.

  Mick nodded. ‘After I’ve made the fire, we’ll have us some grub and a nice bit of liquor to help keep ya warm. Sound good?’

  The night air had some bite to it. It probably wasn’t quite as cold here as it was out in flats of the desert, being sheltered by the cliffs, but still, Bruce’s skin was covered with goose bumps, and the thought of a fire and some booze sounded like the best thing in the world.

  ‘Thanks,’ Bruce said.

  ‘Don’t mention it. Then afterwards, I’ll make a start on your van. Oh and, ah, before I forget – the dunny is around the back of the big shed. It’s only a simple loo – really just a hole in the ground. But there’s a bucket and toilet paper. All I ask is that you empty the bucket after you fill it up.’

  ‘Ugh,’ Amber groaned.

  ‘Hey, this ain’t the Ritz, love. You can always bypass the middleman and try to dig a hole in the dirt and squat over that. But, if ya want some privacy, the loo’s the way to go. Well, make yourselves at home.’ He left them with a disarming smile on his face.

  ‘This place gives me the creeps,’ Jewel said, hugging herself against the cold.

  ‘Yeah, it has a funny smell,’ Chiyo said.

  Bruce sniffed the air. She was right, there was an unusual odour. Beneath the smell of dirt, there was something sweet but unpleasant, like spoiled meat. Still, a man lives out here all alone, there’s bound to be some strange smells.

  ‘Let’s get our luggage down, pick our accommodation for the night, and then sit and relax in front of the fire,’ Steve said. ‘I’m tired and could do with a drink.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ Cindy said.

  Bruce gazed around at the collection of old trailers and smaller sheds.

  There appeared to be plenty of room, but Bruce knew where he was sleeping tonight. He wasn’t about to let the weed and the cash out of his sight.

  And he wanted to be close to the handguns.

  Just in case.

  Rugged up in a woollen cardigan and beanie, Jewel sat by the fire, sipping the strong black coffee that Mick had made for the group. The night had grown cold, and while she wasn’t thrilled with being stuck in this massive hole in the ground for the night, she was at least grateful for the fire Mick had lit in the heart of an old metal drum. It blazed fervently, crackling and shooting sparks into the dark sky.

  ‘So, how’s everyone enjoying the black stuff?’ Mick said, taking a seat on a rock.

  There were nods all round.

  ‘Good. Well, new tyres have been put on. But unfortunately, the torsion arm will need replacing.’

  ‘Aw, shit,’ Duncan groaned. ‘For real?’

  ‘’Fraid so,’ Mick said, before taking a long drink from his mug. ‘I tried to straighten the bugger, but no dice. Man, you really made a meal out of the axle, Bruce. What did ya do, run over a field of rocks?’

  Bruce sighed. He was sitting beside Jewel on one of the tattered deck chairs that Mick had scrounged from around the mine site. ‘I can’t believe this. So, what happens now?’

  ‘Well, I’ll have to go into town tomorrow to get a replacement part. That shouldn’t be a problem. I’m sure someone will have a spare torsion pipe.’

  ‘And if they don’t?’ Duncan said.

  He and Amber were sitting close together, their legs touching.

  ‘Well then, you’re shit outta luck.’

  Silence blanketed the group.

  Mick’s hoarse laughter broke the stillness.

  ‘Just messin’ with ya!’ He shook his head. ‘Christ, you mob are an easy target. Look, I’m sure someone will have the part I need. I’ll have to stop off at the roadhouse in the morning and ring around a few places first. Once I’ve got it, Bob’s your sister – you’ll be right to head on your merry way.’

  ‘Wait a minute, you don’t have a phone?’ Bruce said.

  Mick shrugged. ‘Nah. What do I need a phone for?’

  Bruce frowned. ‘But how —’

  ‘I had one,’ Mick said, trampling over Bruce’s words, ‘but it’s busted. I need to get a newie. Just haven’t got around to it, that’s all. So, how long have you two been doing these tours?’ He slurped his coffee again.

  Duncan made fleeting eye contact with Bruce, before answering, ‘About two years.’

  ‘So what’s the deal? You get a bunch of people to pay good money for you to drive them around the outback?’

  Duncan nodded. ‘Something like that.’ He gave the group a look he hoped was reassuring.

  Mick scanned the gathering. They were now without Cindy and Akira, who had retired to different trailers for some rest after the dinner of baked beans and Spam.

  ‘Mostly city folk, hey?’

  ‘Jewel and I are from Perth,’ Amber said.

  ‘Jewel, huh?’ Mick said.

  Jewel shifted uncomfortably in her old, creaky wooden seat as Mick leered at her.

  ‘What are you: diamond, ruby or emerald?’

  ‘I’m nothing,’ Jewel said, struggling between returning polite eye contact and not being comfortable in his piercing gaze.

  ‘You two don’t strike me as the types to go gallivantin’ around the desert.’

  ‘It’s a cheap way of getting to Darwin,’ Amber said, ‘which is where we’re ultimately headed. After that, maybe Indonesia.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Besides, it’s a chance to see parts of Australia you don’t normally get to. This is the first time I’ve ever been in a mine, for instance.’

  Mick’s attention lingered on Jewel. ‘You don’t talk much, do ya?’

  ‘Only when I have something to say,’ she said, plucking a cigarette from her pocket. She lit it with a nervous hand and took a long, comforting drag. She was grateful when Mick turned to Sam and Matt, although she did catch Matt staring at her. The teenager averted his eyes when she caught him.

  ‘So, father and son, right?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Sam said.

  He and Matt were the only ones not drinking coffee.

  ‘Funny, but you two don’t look all that alike.’

  ‘Thank god,’ Matt muttered.

  Mick chortled. ‘Cheeky little bugger, aren’t ya? Boy, if I’d talked to my old man like that, I’d a gotten a . . .’ His smile drained away suddenly, and darkness flitted across his face. Sadness mixed with anger. ‘Well . . . a good hiding,’ he said after a beat, then shook his head. ‘Well anyway, what’s your story? Father and son bonding trip?’

  Sam’s mouth twitched. ‘Something like that. My wife and I are divorced. I don’t get to see Matthew all that much, so I thought this would be a good chance to spend some time with him. I live in Perth, my wife lives in Broome.’

  ‘Not at school, then?’ Mick said.

  Sam nodded. ‘Yeah, but Matt was . . . well, he was suspended for two weeks.’

  ‘You are a cheeky bugger, hey?’

  Matt shrugged.

  ‘What ya do?’

  ‘What didn’t he do . . .’ Sam muttered.

  ‘Cheated on some tests,’ Matt answered, eyes down.

  ‘That all?’ Mick said.

  Sam looked at his son. ‘He was also caught spying on some girls. While they were getting changed in the locker room.’

  This got some smiles and chuckles from the men. Matt stiffened with embarrassment, unable to stop himself
flicking a look at Jewel.

  Mick hooted. ‘Well, give this boy a beer. You want a beer, Matt?’

  ‘Yeah,’ the teenager said, face brightening.

  ‘No, he’s not having a beer,’ Sam said.

  ‘Come on, I’ve got plenty in the shed.’

  ‘Mick, please,’ Sam pleaded. ‘He’s only sixteen.’

  ‘Alright. Best do what your dad says, okay, tiger?’

  Matt scowled and started poking the fire with a stick.

  ‘Hell, I’d like a beer,’ Duncan said.

  ‘Have you been spying on any girls?’ Mick replied, loudly, pointing at him.

  Duncan shook his head.

  ‘Then I’m afraid the answer’s no.’

  Judging by his expression, Duncan couldn’t tell whether Mick was joking or not. Jewel was finding him a hard man to read too. Not that Jewel was particularly interested in reading Mick – if he was a form of literature, she decided, he’d be a Playboy magazine. At best, some cheap paperback western. She suppressed a giggle.

  Mick seemed to be working his way around the circle, engaging of them, one at a time. But now he turned his attention to Steve, bypassing Chiyo altogether. Racist bastard, Jewel thought – but Chiyo was probably better off without his overbearing outback bonhomie.

  ‘So, whereabouts in America are you and your lovely girlfriend from?’

  Steve matched Mick’s hard stare. ‘California,’ he said. He finished off his coffee and set the mug on the ground.

  ‘Another?’

  Steve shook his head, folding his brawny arms.

  ‘California, hey? Land of movie stars, golden gates and, ah . . .’ Mick thought a moment. ‘Prisons! So, what did you do back there, Steve?’

  Steve sighed. ‘Look, I’m tired and have a killer headache. Can we cut the small talk?’

  Mick seemed taken aback by Steve’s directness. His face hardened. He sat on his rock, breathing a little more deeply, squinting at Steve. Jewel thought he looked like a bull fighting hard not to charge.

  ‘So, Mick, how long have you lived in this mine?’ Duncan blurted.

  Jewel had to admire Duncan for either his complete lack of awareness, or his vain attempts at bringing Mick around from whatever state he was in. Their host sprang to his feet, making Jewel flinch.