Chapter 19 – Captivity – Need to 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, 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 gave her a feeling of 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 before about real 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 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, jammed against the seat with sharp edges of the cuffs poking into them.
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 needed her body to disappear.
If it was found it would prove that she was more than just missing, it would prove she was dead. And it would yield evidence that connected her to Mark. His DNA covered and embedded her.
He had this deep, abiding love of crocodiles, a seeming fascination with watching them kill things.
Susan shuddered, her mind flashing a picture.
It all made sense; he would take her to that place where he knew of an enormous crocodile, somewhere on the Mary River, out near Kakadu. Her body would go into the belly of this crocodile and she would disappear.
None of her family or friends knew where she had gone. She had told her cousins in Sydney she was en route to Alice Springs. But she had misled them about her plans from there. She had indicated she would catch a bus on, no mention of meeting anyone. So, if she failed to turn up for her return flight home, it wouldn’t be clear for a while that she had really vanished. People would think it was just as likely that she had gone another way, met someone and travelled to another destination, even chosen to disappear.
Her parents might not believe it, but many others would. She had broken up with her former boyfriend and come to Australia for a change. It was common for people like her; people with memories to run from, to drop out for a few months then reappear.
Even if they investigated and discovered her travel in the outback with a man, they would also discover her affair with David. So people would say she was having a series of liaisons as she travelled across Australia. David, Mark, then whoever came next.
Mark could simply say that she left him for the next one, that she went off with yet another man. Why would anyone really doubt that? They had been affectionate together, but relationships between travellers come and go, like the people themselves.
There were so many missing people and, without evidence to lead the way, the police could only investigate a handful.
She thought about where she had been with Mark and how averse he was to public places, like airports with security cameras, and town centres; he had barely been to any of these. Sure he had met her in the Alice Springs Mall, but then he was wearing cowboy clothes with a big, broad brimmed Akubra hat, which he had never worn since and, with the hat pulled down, there was little view of his face. Not to mention that his car was parked at the back of the car park where CCTV was unlikely.
Then at Yulara, while they had checked in together, she had stood well behind him and not interacted with any of the hotel staff—her mind had been on getting to their bedroom. Was it even clear she was with him? He hadn’t acknowledged her presence; he had pre-booked with a voucher, and who knows what name he had given. Once she had gone to the room she barely came out. Sure they had breakfast together, downstairs. But the restaurant was crowded with tourists. So they were unlikely to be recorded or remembered.
The best chances to connect her with Mark were the handful of station people and miners who had seen them together, but very few of them were likely to read newspapers in towns, and television watching seemed a rarity. So, even if her photo made it to the TV news or newspapers, it seemed unlikely that anyone would realise and connect her to Mark, particularly if months had elapsed.
She thought of her phone; that was something to cause him concern. She had some hopes of a connection there. It tied her to both Timber Creek and Borroloola and there were good odds that someone would remember them together in one of these places.
She wondered if he had become careless with her, it seemed like Mark had been more careful with his other victims, making sure to leave no clues. Susan wondered if that meant something about their relationship was different. Maybe he was overconfident. It seemed there was a slim chance he could be connected to her, but it was far from certain.
That’s why her body needed to disappear, and it was also why it couldn’t happen near here. So, somewhere like Mary River made sense—provided they arrived there at night, without being seen.
Susan thought it also meant that he would need to avoid major towns, like Katherine, where the chances of his movements being tracked were much greater. So they would go by back roads.
It also meant that, once they got there they would not stay long, as he would not want to be sighted there.
No doubt the next night he would be across in Western Australia with a plausible story about how he had left her to catch a bus, and then gone the other way. No one had seen anything bad h
appen between them, everyone would say they got on well together. If he said he dropped her off to catch a bus, who would doubt it? As no-one knew her plans no-one would know where she had gone, just another missing person, gone to ground somewhere in Australia, so many places, cities, and states to choose from.
She realised her mind was wandering. This endless speculation about how she might be traced would not get her anywhere. It was all about the time after the event. It would be of no use to her by then. She must turn her mind into more productive directions, think of what she could do in the here and now. How could she find a way to get away?
An hour had passed; she was getting really hot and thirsty. Sweat trickled down her face. Susan wished she had taken a drink before checking her phone.
Before she could think on it anymore Mark was back. He had silently appeared at by door. Now he was unlocking it.
He looked at her first with what appeared to be a combination of tenderness, sadness and confusion. Then that faded to a blank stare. The anger was no longer visible, but Susan almost wished that was still there instead of the detached coldness he now had. He seemed a small part regretful, like he would have preferred not to harm her, but now that it had come to this, he would do whatever was needed without second thoughts or remorse. The ability to put emotion aside was what made him most frightening.
He was speaking to her. It took a few seconds for her to realise, so locked was she in her own thoughts.
“I am going to take your gag off, provided you don’t start screaming. There’s no one to hear, but it will go straight back on if you do. Do you agree?”
She nodded, her eyes fastened firmly to the floor, she could not meet his gaze, because within any connection was only madness. Susan needed to keep her mind locked away from his ability to harm, so as to stay calm.
He pulled the tape off her mouth. He wasn’t gentle. There was no kindness in how he touched her. Maybe he too needed to put distance between them.
She decided, she must try and stay calm, not ask for information, not beg, not become dramatic or desperate. It was her calm after all, that had saved her from his fist earlier.
Without the gag her breathing was better. She felt less cut off. She experimentally moved her mouth around now that it was free. Her lip stung but otherwise it seemed to work fine. She asked, “Are you still angry with me?”
He grunted, he did not seem to know what to say or perhaps he chose not to answer.
Then she decided to try something more specific. “Could I have a drink please?” Susan asked politely, seeking to behave as if there was nothing unusual about her situation.
Mark nodded gruffly and turned away. He returned with a pannikin of water. She realised he would have to hold it while she drank. This was difficult, and the water slopped down her front.
“It would be easier if you released my hands for a bit, or locked them in front,” she said. Mark pulled a key from his pocket, reached behind her and unlocked one cuff. When she moved her hands to the front he relocked them in place. Susan took the cup, finished the water, then handed it back.
Without another word Mark shut her door, got into his side of the car and began driving. After half an hour they crossed a big river, following a road crossing that went through a couple feet of water. It must be the Victoria River, she reasoned.
He had a map open on the seat between them. It seemed as if this route wasn’t familiar to him and he occasionally gave it a glance.
Surreptitiously Susan began to look too.
There were few roads marked in this country, so now, by a process of deduction, she began to guess out where they must go. Once she worked this out she started to follow the topography on the map, where the hills were, where they crossed big creeks and rivers. She could also see the car’s trip meter so that helped her gauge how far they had gone.
She realised they would have to come along station roads and through a no man’s land, going west, then northwest of Katherine, in order to avoid the town. She could see a way through, and there were some alternatives. It looked like a long, slow drive.
There seemed little point in Susan trying to escape in the middle of nowhere. She noticed that the road, the one that she guessed they were heading for, crossed the Daly River near Pine Creek. It looked like a water-crossing not a bridge, perhaps a causeway. She remembered that the Daly River was famous for barramundi fishing. Maybe, at this crossing, there would be tourists or fishermen? From where they were now it looked to be about three hundred kilometres to reach it. She figured it would be late afternoon by then.
A plan was forming. She needed to behave as normally as possible, try to lower suspicion. Then, if she saw anyone when they came onto the river crossing, she would open her door and fling herself out, onto the crossing or into the water. Her door wasn’t locked and her hands were to her front, so that meant she could quickly work the door latch. Even if the water was deep she should be able to swim, after a fashion, and get to the side.
But, more importantly, she would be able to shout for help, as her mouth was not covered. It was hard to see that Mark would harm her in front of other people. If this gave no chance then the next opportunity would be Pine Creek. As it was a proper town she did not think he would chance reaching there it until dark. Still, perhaps if he drove down the main street, she could fling herself out there and be seen.
The afternoon passed slowly. They traversed miles and miles of bush roads. Mostly she could follow where they were on the map, using a combination of distances and features. They made occasional river-crossings. A couple vehicles passed by them in a cloud of dust, going in the opposite direction. Each time Mark accelerated and passed them with speed, so she realised that, even if she shouted, she wouldn’t be heard.
They stopped only once; “a toilet break,” he said. He released the bonds on her hands, but her legs remained tied. She shuffled away and relieved herself. As she returned Mark passed her a cup of water. She gulped it down and he gave her another. She drank all that too, then she said, “Thank you.”
Mark nodded; a minimal acknowledgement. Then she presented him with her hands to be cuffed again. He seemed surprised by this; she suspected he would have left this undone. But it was important to her plan that he thought her well restrained, so he would be less attentive. It would be the only way of getting away, should a chance come.
They came to the bank of a big river. Based on time and appearance it must be the Daly. Light was fading, but it was not yet dark. She could not see right to the river, but she could make out well-used camping sites.
Mark parked. He walked to the top of the bank where the road fell away, glancing back behind him to keep an eye on her. He seemed relieved that Susan just sat there, unmoving. Mark surveyed the river, assessing if it was safe to cross. After five minutes or so he returned to the car. But, instead of proceeding across, he drove off-road and went up the riverbank a few hundred yards. There they sat and waited until the darkness was complete.
Now they returned and crossed over, no one was in sight. Susan could have cried in frustration.
Desperation and fear grew inside her. Soon she saw the lights of a town, Pine Creek. But they passed by it without stopping. They never slowed, and there were no signs of any other human life around.
Just as Susan had started to think it was hopeless, she realised Mark was slowing, and pulling over to the road verge. There was a noise of flapping from a wheel. She realised it was a flat tyre. She thought they had only come a couple miles from the town.
Now he was occupied outside she felt she had a chance.
Mark was undoing the spare tyre, his attention focused on it. She saw headlights coming over the horizon, a vehicle was approaching. It crested the rise and came down their side; lights blazing forward were all she could make out.
She used the lights and noise of its approach as a distraction. She pushed open her door and jumped out. Like a kangaroo she hopped to the middle of the road.
All at once she realised this was no car, but a huge road train bearing down on her. It was only one hundred yards away and it showed no signs of braking. She realised that it had not even seen her; she must get off the road. Mark seemed unaware.
She tried to hop, but in the need for speed her balance was gone. She pitched forward onto the tar road, just managing to get hands in front to protect her face. She tried to lift herself and crawl but knew there was no time. Now the truck driver had seen her and the brakes were screaming, but she knew it was too late.
Mark’s attention was suddenly on her. He moved fast, scooped her up and lifted her aside; then the truck was upon them. As it passed by Mark waved and gave a thumbs up, the truckie waved back and powered on.
Mark was furious, “You stupid bitch! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
She sat on the road edge where he had dropped her and cried: tears of rage, tears of frustration.
“You miserable bastard, why would you care? By tomorrow it won’t matter whether I am alive or dead with what you’re planning. I’d rather let the truck hit me than be your captive.”
Mark looked at her with a frustrated rage First he said nothing, just shook his head, then he said. “You do my head in; you think I’m crazy—well I’ve got nothing on you.”
He picked her up and threw her on the back tray. He climbed up and opened the cooler door, bent in and removed the few items inside. It was almost empty, just a small Esky holding a bag of ice and a couple bits of food, pushed into the corner of the big cooler. It wasn’t even cold.
“You won’t suffocate in here; there are some air holes in the top.” Then he lifted her again and tipped her head first into the space. A minute later he threw in a pillow and blanket. He slammed the door closed. She heard him click a lock.
Five minutes later she felt the car start and spin round, going back the way it had come. It drove on a smooth road for a minute. She felt it slow and turn. Now they were driving along a rough dirt road to God-knows-where.
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