Crocodile Spirit Dreaming - Possession - Books 1 - 3

by Graham Wilson

  Mark spoke of work as a research assistant in Kakadu, where, for many nights, they had to go out and catch large crocodiles to sample for heavy metals. He told her of the dangers of pulling a three or four metre crocodile alongside a small dingy to take their samples.

  He told her more about this biggest of crocodiles which he had discovered on the Mary River. It was unknown to others due to its incredibly secretive nature. Something in the hidden danger and power of large crocodiles, their remorseless predatory behaviour, had captured his Mark’s mind. He spoke of this Mary River crocodile like his brother.

  Time rolled by along with the river. Susan began to yawn, and she could not stop. Mark called the men and returned the controls to them. He directed Susan to the bunk and he lay on the floor. Both fell into a deep sleep, only waking when the boat slowed to a stop.

  It was bright with early daylight. They had returned to Timber Creek. The boat pulled up to the bank just behind the airport where the car was parked. Mark returned the pistol to his gun case, locked away, unneeded. Then he packed up the record sheets, computer drives and arranged for all the other high tech equipment to be stored.

  Mark and Susan climbed off the boat and followed a path from the river that brought them up to the vehicle. They were both mussy, yawning with sleep, but they agreed it was a night to remember, a night of discovery of the river and themselves.

  Chapter 17 – Truth – Day 28

  They drove back into Timber Creek in silence, too tired to talk. The night had sucked their vitality. With a night on their feet, and the buffeting river their bodies were both hungry and exhausted. They needed breakfast; their only food since yesterday morning was sandwiches and a piece of brownie.

  “Let’s eat breakfast first; then I’ll meet the company representative to give him the data. After that we can drive towards Katherine a short way and find a place to roll out the swag, under a shady tree until lunch. We both need a good sleep.”

  Susan nodded agreement. She wasn’t capable of much more than that.

  Mark took strong coffee with his meal to clear his head for his business dealings.

  Susan was oddly anxious as she ate her breakfast of egg and toast. She couldn’t place the source as waves of tiredness swept over her. She told Mark she would wait in the car.

  As she reached the car it came to her; I need to check my messages. But she was so tired; it was all much too much effort.

  Fumbling around she found her phone and switched it on. There was barely a signal. Nothing could get through. She laid her head on the seat and fell asleep; her phone dropped to the floor.

  She barely stirred when Mark came out an hour later. She felt him place a pillow under her head and move her into a more comfortable position. She was vaguely aware that the car had started and they were driving.

  Neither heard the phone ping as they drove out of town.

  Mark was yawning too. Susan felt the movement of the car slow to a halt, and a shadow pass over her eyes. She heard Mark’s door open and close, and shuffling in the back. Then Mark was at her door. Susan felt strong arms lift her body from the seat, and lay her down on the swag that he’d laid out.

  Susan stretched, aware of the soft comfort of Mark’s body next to hers. She cuddled into him.

  It felt near midday when Susan properly opened her eyes. She lay for a minute; green foliage above her, dreamy but waking, feeling refreshed. She looked around and noticed where they were, parked under a large shady tree in a green grassy area which fell away down to the bank of a big river, probably the Victoria.

  Mark still breathed deeply beside her. She would let him sleep.

  Her mouth dry, Susan walked to the car to get a drink. Noting that her door was open, she detoured to close it.

  Seeing the shine of her phone on the floor of the cabin she bent to pick it up. She touched a button, the screen lit up. One new message, it flashed. It was from Anne.

  Susan’s heart skipped a beat, fear and burning anxiety surged, she did not want to know. She climbed into the car and closed the door, needing privacy even though Mark showed no signs of waking. The message read:

  Dear Suz,

  This FREAKS me, what I found:

  Those girls came to Australia but are missing. USA one came 3 years ago, last seen Daintree, Qld. 3 months later. UK one came 2 yrs ago, last seen Adelaide, SA, 6 months later. Both listed as missing, but not under current investigation

  Investigation summary –

  - Girls may have wanted to disappear

  - Both withdrew most of their cash before they left

  - Both announced they were going on a trip – never seen since they left

  - Did not say where were going or with who

  - No current links between cases

  - Last contacts followed up, no useful information

  - Both girls seen meeting unknown man a couple days before last seen.

  - One friend thought this man’s name was Mark – no such person located

  - Parents are convinced of abduction or worse

  - Re Fiona Rodgers, that was her real name but everyone called her Kate - dead sister’s name she used from when a little girl – weird

  This all makes me scared – Be Careful!!! Take extra care if you meet a Mark.

  Love Anne

  Susan reread the message three times. Her hands shook; she was totally freaked; pattern and name both a match.

  Who had she told where she was going? Did she tell anyone about Mark? No and no.

  What was his real name anyway, or even the real car registration?

  This was beyond stupid. She had to get away, or she might disappear too. Her mind was racing; she needed a plan. Could she leave while he slept?

  She looked up. Mark’s face was right at her window.

  Susan felt blood drain from her face; her heart stopped, her mind numb with terror.

  He was looking at her then he was looking at the phone. Susan couldn’t move.

  Mark opened the door.

  She was frozen, face stricken with horror.

  He put out a hand for the phone. Not a request.

  Susan’s hands shook as she tried to put the phone away. Too slow!

  Mark grasped her hand, prised her fingers away from the phone and took it. He seemed more puzzled than angry. But of course, he didn’t know what she knew.

  He looked at the phone, the message still illuminated. He scrolled up, and then down.

  She watched his face transform, from puzzled to incredulous, to something like rage, but far more chilling, then finally to something that looked like anguish or grief.

  She could not take her eyes from his face, she could not look away.

  He stared, fixated, at the phone; he did not look at her. Finally he lifted his head.

  Susan quailed at his stare. Something incredibly dangerous lurked in the depths of his eyes. The seconds ticked by. He just stared and stared and did not speak.

  At last he spoke “Why?”

  She heard the anguish in his voice but was too terrified to answer.

  “Why?” he repeated. Again Susan could find no words.

  Mark’s temper snapped. “Why could you not leave it alone?” He growled roughly, “Why did you need to know so badly? You knew I didn’t want to tell you about the bad things in my past.” Mark’s voice caught, “You promised to stop asking, and now this!”

  Susan sat there mute; she tried to look down, to break the spell of his hurt eyes.

  Mark reached his hands towards her, and picked her up. With hands like vices he grasped both her arms just below the shoulders and lifted her from the car seat. He placed her standing on the ground, back to the car. Her balance wobbled, her legs did not work, and she held the car side for support.

  He struggled to master his rage. He pushed his hands to his sides, clenched and opened his fists, all his muscles corded with emotion. He looked back at her face, his eyes boring in.

  “Look at me and tell me why?” Mark said bet
ween gritted teeth. “And How? Did you search my bags? Did you look through my papers, what?”

  His accusations hit like slaps, his anguish like punches.

  She asked herself too, Did I really need to know? Could I not have let it be? Why me? Why now? Why him?

  In her final question she found her answer.

  “Because I needed to know; a man has captured me, heart, body and soul and I need to know who he is.”

  Susan paused.

  “In answer to how: the passports. I found the passports. I didn’t set out to find them, I was looking for matches to light the fire, but then this box was in my hand and I opened it.” Susan’s words came quickly. “Four photos of beautiful girls. You had their passports. They had come to Australia, and had no exit stamps. What was I supposed to think?

  “Then the small matter of who are you? There is a Mark Butler, a Mark Brown, a Mark Brooks, and of course a Mark Bennett. They all look like you, they all have the same initials, and they all have matching numberplates and licenses. Which one is the real you? Are any of them you? Are none of them you?

  Susan laughed bitterly, “Perhaps you’re Robert Redford and live in California? Perhaps you’re a transsexual who had a gender change and then a name change. Tell me, who are you!” She didn’t give him a chance to answer her.

  “I tried to ask you who you were but you wouldn’t tell me, you got so angry. But despite everything I’d found I couldn’t believe you were capable of this.” She gestured to the phone wildly. “No not you, not the Mark I knew, not the Mark I loved. He’s no monster. But I had to know. That’s why I asked someone who would actually give me answers.”

  Mark didn’t respond. His chest heaved with feelings she couldn’t interpret. Susan’s voice dropped to a softer tone, “Is it true? Did you know these girls? Did they come with you like I have? Did they lay with you like I have? Did they give you their bodies like I have? I bet they trusted you, the same way I thought I could. And then what, one day, you decided you’d had had your fill? You got bored? When you finished with them, did you finish their lives as well? What’s wrong with just saying goodbye? Couldn’t you have just let them go? Or did they know something the world couldn’t know, just like I do?

  “Did you kill them out of convenience? Or was it for excitement—a cheap thrill? Did you shoot them for sport? Did you tie them up and watch them die? Did you do it with a smile?”

  There’s no going back now thought Susan. She couldn’t believe the tidal wave of rage burning in her veins. Her mind saw her anger flaming all around her, her hatred for who he was and what had done overwhelmed all her reason. His betrayal was overwhelming.

  “Are you just a murderer, or are you a sadistic rapist pig as well?” She spat out.

  An incomprehensible look came over Mark’s face, it was simple blind rage.

  He drew back his arm.

  Susan knew he would kill her, the power in the anger.

  His fist was closed tight, knuckles white, coming straight for her face. Susan knew she should move, but was rooted in space. A death wish was present to die in this place. His fist halted, a bare inch from her face.

  She sensed her calmness had stopped him, to embrace her ending with grace.

  It was a moment suspended in time, a flash of slow motion.

  Now they both stood staring at each other.

  Susan’s could feel her will to defy him undiminished, her anger still flaming. She spat in his face.

  From outside her body, she saw his other arm swing, palm open, and hit the side of her face. The blow knocked her sideways. With her hands at her sides she landed face-first in the dirt, leaves in her mouth. She lay for a moment stunned, feeling her anger ebb away and fear take its place. She raised herself to her knees, facing away and tasted blood in her mouth. She looked back to the car.

  Mark turned away from her and opened the door of the car searching for something. Susan tried to shuffle away, but the numbness in her head made her brain foggy.

  She felt Mark grasp her hands from behind, and force something round her wrists. He pulled her backwards and upwards with rough hands, her head against his chest. She saw a roll of heavy silver tape in one hand. With his teeth he pulled back the end and ripped a portion off. Then it was rolled over her mouth and around her lips and chin, leaving only her nostrils exposed.

  “That will stop that filthy mouth of yours,” he spat.

  Next he took a rope and tied her legs together; she knew she would fall flat if she tried to run.

  Then Mark lifted her bodily into the car passenger side and shoved her back onto the seat, with her hands jammed behind her back. He wound down both windows slightly then closed and locked the car doors.

  She looked out to see what he was doing.

  Mark seemed uncertain what to do now; he leant with his head against the car door on the driver’s side. It was the first time she had seen him look dejected and uncertain, as if confused by the situation he’d found himself in.

  Despite her anger and fear, she still felt pity and tenderness towards him. She sensed he was in uncharted waters. It was as if before, whenever he was threatened, he had hit out, responded to threat with aggression. But now he needed another way forward.

  There was nothing directly in what he had told her that said this. However it was the way she made sense of the little pieces about him that she had seen. It was like the insight that comes when the first few pieces of a jigsaw started to take a defined shape.

  But this was not Susan’s problem. She must find a way to get away from him.

  She did not think he would try and harm her here, so close to where people had seen them this morning. She figured he would drive them somewhere else. That’s when she would look for an opportunity to get away. She had no plan yet but she would have to see what chances arose, and take them.

  After a minute of standing there Mark seemed to form a decision and moved away. She could half see him rolling the swag in her side mirror, not properly but glimpsed. Then she saw him carrying it and she heard and felt, rather than saw as he loaded it in the back.

  Then she could not hear or see him anymore. She did not know if he had gone away or was just sitting quietly, somewhere out of sight. For now there was nothing she could do except wait and see what happened.

  Chapter 18 – Captivity, Searching for an Escape – Day 28

  Being tied up and gagged at first gave Susan a feeling of rising panic. She struggled to breathe, she felt she would suffocate. She wanted to retch but was scared she would choke on her vomit. Then her mind reasserted control and she calmed. She realised that if she took slow steady breaths through her nose she was fine.

  Sitting squashed into the seat and barely able to move the time seemed to move very slowly. She tried to count in her head but it was hard to think straight and she kept losing track. Then she realised she could make out the dashboard clock. She did not know why it comforted her to have some sense of the passage of time, but it did; it was a connection to a wider reality.

  Now she began to discover how utterly uncomfortable she was. Her face and lip, where Mark had hit her, had been numb. But now the feeling was returning; a tingling sting at first which quickly turned into sharp pain, combined with a headache which throbbed from the force of the blow. The way he had taped her mouth shut was pushing her cut lip into her teeth, and the tape itself had hard edges and which was digging into her face. It felt like her face was on fire.

  What sort of bastard was Mark to treat her like this? Then, in a funny way, she realised that if this was the worst she had to endure, there were others who experienced far worse.

  She had never thought about prisoners and torture victims; they endured things much worse for weeks and months on end. Susan couldn’t comprehend their pain, thinking about how long a few minutes felt, let alone days or longer.

  She tried to wiggle around and reposition herself, but there really was no comfortable way to sit. With her hands locked behind her she was pushed
forward in the seat. This posture was making her back ache. Her hands and wrists were hurting as well, jammed against the seat.

  The air coming into the cabin from the cracked window meant she wouldn’t suffocate or get too hot, but with the gag she was unable to shout out. He clearly knew what he was doing, restraining her like this. He must have practised this sort of thing before. She could not reach the door locks with her hands behind her, and with her feet tied it was almost impossible to move around the cabin sufficiently to improve her situation and get at the door handle. Maybe a contortionist could have done something, but it was beyond her. It didn’t stop her trying though.

  After a while she realised that it was useless to waste her energy on fruitless pursuits. She would be better served by saving her energy until a more promising situation arose. She would only exhaust herself if she struggled too much now. Mark wouldn’t go to this much trouble to confine her if he just planned to kill her now. More likely they would travel to somewhere more suitable.

  She tried to figure out what Mark was likely to do, and what her realistic options were. She didn’t think it likely that he’d just let her go, she knew far too much and had told him so.

  She knew of at least four of his identities. She had good grounds for belief that he had done something to four other girls. Be honest, she told herself, you mean killed. The logical extension of this was that Susan was destined to become his next victim. Yet it seemed too abstract to grasp, that somehow her existence would just cease.

  She forced her mind to push away her fear and try to understand Mark, to make some sense of what he might plan for her demise. A truly chilling thought struck her. It came to her, like a jolt of insight, the picture in her mind turning her insides to jelly.

  Susan now thought she knew what he would do. He wanted her body to disappear. If her body was found, it would prove that she had gone more than just missing, it would also give evidence that would connect her to Mark. His DNA covered and embedded her.