by Helene Young
Still, he was here.
Speedy turned with his fists raised, contempt in his eyes. ‘You.’ He hawked and spat on the ground. ‘You’re no threat to me.’
‘Afraid I am, buddy. I’m a federal policeman. You’re under arrest for suspected arson.’ Ryan cocked his head at the blaze that was starting to spread. ‘Though I guess you could say that was proven, not suspected any more.’ He stayed just out of striking distance from the still-live torch.
Speedy laughed at him, hate stamped on his face and in the rigid cord of muscle up his neck.
‘You’re filthy scum. Don’t you dare stand judge and jury on me. I know about you.’ He’d gone red in the face as he shouted at Ryan, spit flecking his lips. ‘You’re a fucking disgusting paedophile.’
Ryan almost choked. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I’ve watched you grooming that poor kid.’ Speedy laughed again, a high, manic sound that scraped on Ryan’s nerves. ‘But you can’t stop this now. Arrest me if you want, but by the time you take me in, your house and the bitch’s place will be gone.’
‘Kait and Dan’s house? What the hell has she done to you?’
‘I know your type. I know women will do anything for sex. Lie, cheat, turn their backs on their sons. I know!’ He was screaming now.
Ryan could only shake his head, edging closer. ‘Sorry, buddy. You’re wrong. Kaitlyn’s done nothing to hurt you. Anyway, the water bomber will be here soon, so her house will be safe.’
There was genuine amusement in Speedy’s laugh this time. ‘No, mate. I told the guy in charge of the bombers that I was doing some back-burning out this way. By the time they work out what’s what it will be too fuckin’ late.’
‘No, you’re wrong.’ Ryan felt his jaw lock. It was going to hell. All he could do was wrap this up now and get help. ‘You’re under arrest, Speedy.’
‘You’ve got to catch me first.’ Speedy had his hand in his pocket. As he withdrew it he flung a fistful of change in Ryan’s face. One coin clipped the corner of his eye, momentarily blinding him, and Speedy took off up the slope, waving the torch ahead of him. He was literally running through fire as it took hold.
Ryan swore, wiping the drops of blood from his face. ‘Get out,’ he said to himself. ‘There’s nothing you can do here.’
He was in the ute and driving within seconds. He judged it would be quicker to go back along the main road than try to battle his way up an unknown forestry trail. Up ahead he could see a patch of sunlight as a break in the cloud appeared. For an instant he was looking at a Dash 8 aircraft banked in a turn, then it was gone again. Maybe they would call it through. It was the best he could hope for right now.
The phone in his pocket beeped and he hauled it out. A message from his boss, asking for a report. He drove one-handed as he hit dial. The measured voice at the end of the phone did nothing to placate him.
Ryan interrupted his boss. ‘Get the Scotts out now. Speedy is hell-bent on torching them and the house. He’s nuts, gone psycho and he’s on foot in the Greentrees block with a drip torch. Get the water bombers in!’ He was yelling and didn’t care. He’d never been so scared in his life. This was a family that he cared about in a way he couldn’t yet comprehend and now they were in the path of a lunatic with liquid fire.
His boss’s reply was succinct. For the next 10 kilometres, as Ryan came in and out of phone range, he tried every phone number he could think of to get hold of Kaitlyn or Julia. He left messages, but there was no way of knowing whether they’d get them. If he’d had the school’s number he would have tracked Dan down. He pounded the steering wheel. ‘Damn it, damn it, damn it.’ This couldn’t be happening to them. Not again.
He hit the roadblock on the main road doing 80 and almost locked up the wheels slamming to a halt. The young constable wasn’t one Ryan recognised and from the look on his face it was clear he was trying to decide whether to draw his weapon or not.
‘I’m a Fed, Ryan O’Donnell.’ He put his hands up, not wanting to alarm the lad any more. He didn’t need anything else to go wrong. ‘This vehicle needs to be taken in as evidence. It’s the arsonist’s vehicle. Where’s your partner?’
‘We work single out here. Too short-staffed with everyone busy on the fires. It’s just me.’ He saw the constable’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He looked uneasy, admitting to being alone, and Ryan couldn’t blame him. Not only did Ryan look like a demented criminal, he was also driving a vehicle on the wanted list.
‘Can you call through on your radio for me?’ Ryan said urgently. He inclined his head to the patrol car. ‘Give the desk sergeant my name. We need to get those water bombers into this block now. And it would be good if forensics could pick this up.’ He pointed at the ute. ‘I’ve contaminated it enough.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The constable barely took his eyes off Ryan as he headed to his vehicle. Ryan followed him over and could see the young man peering through the windscreen at him as he called it through. The conversation was short and terse.
When the constable stood up, he stayed behind the door as if fearing Ryan’s reaction. He had reason to.
‘Sarge says, can you drive the car in? We don’t have enough manpower. He says the bombers have been diverted to a block down near Carrington Road that went up about an hour ago. They should be here sometime in the next hour.’
‘Fuck.’ Ryan slapped the bonnet of the patrol car. ‘That’s not good enough. Get back on that radio. This fire is going to roar up there.’ He pointed at the slopes behind them that were already starting to trickle smoke ahead of the flames. ‘And God knows where Speedy’s gone.’ The policeman just looked at him and didn’t budge.
Ryan was torn. If he left the ute, he had no transport. If he took it then he compromised evidence they’d need for a conviction. It should have been a no-brainer, but this time a woman he loved and her family were in danger.
‘I need to get up the hill to Happy Jack Road. Can you call someone to pick me up?’
‘No one’s allowed up that road. It’s got a block on it as well.’
‘Yeah, that’s for the punters. I’m a cop too and I live up there.’
‘Sorry, sir. It won’t make any difference. It’s a fire risk and they’ve closed it off.’
‘Did they get the family out first?’
He shrugged. ‘Dunno. Not everyone wants to go. Miss Scott is pretty vocal about staying and defending. I doubt she’d go anyway.’
‘Shit.’ Ryan turned away, furiously sifting through options. If Kaitlyn was there she didn’t only have fire to worry about. Speedy was headed her way and now that Ryan knew what his motivation was, he doubted Speedy would be dropping by for a cup of tea.
There was only one option and this young cop was not going to be happy.
‘Mate, can you give me a hand with some stuff from the tray? We need to put it in the boot of your car. Keep it safe.’ He flashed his most reassuring smile and started towards the back of the vehicle. Still looking uncomfortable, the constable ambled along behind him.
Ryan peeled the cover back. ‘If we both reach in we should be able to lift the containers out. They’re pretty heavy.’
As soon as the younger man was leaning forward and off balance, Ryan hit him at the base of his neck, catching him as he fell. ‘Sorry, lad. I’ll buy you a beer.’ He checked his pulse. It was steady. The lad was already groaning. Ryan dropped the keys to the ute on the ground in front of him.
‘Promise to return your gun too, buddy,’ he murmured, unclipping the holster and hefting the weapon in his hand. Handy piece of gear, but a Glock 22 was not his choice of gun. He checked the ammunition clip, then sprinted to the patrol car.
The wheels squealed as he hit the accelerator. The trail of destruction and paperwork he was leaving in his wake was going to mean nothing if he couldn’t keep Kaitlyn, Dan and Julia safe.
Chapter 45
‘THE other aircraft’s inbound and they’ve got the vision on him. They’ll stay wi
th him.’ Lauren said. ‘We’re cleared to track direct to Cairns. Do you know anyone at Mareeba Airport?’
‘Why? We can’t land there. We’re not permitted off task.’ Kaitlyn’s protest was half-hearted. She was still in shock at seeing Ryan driving the ute.
‘The hell we can’t.’ Lauren shook her head. ‘They can’t sack all of us, can they? So, does anyone know someone in Mareeba?’
‘Gordo does stuff with the Warbirds.’ Kaitlyn hesitated, wanting to believe there was a chance she’d get to her family in time. ‘If he’s there, he has an old four-wheel drive he might loan me.’
‘Then ring him. I’ll let Brisbane Centre know we’re going to be asking for clearance for Cairns via Mareeba. It’ll add a couple of minutes to the flight time.’
Kaitlyn hit dial on the sat phone again and sagged with relief in her seat when Gordo answered. She could see him sitting in his cramped office, poring over an aging aircraft manual. In typical Gordo fashion he didn’t ask any questions. The car was there and she could borrow it. Before she’d even thanked him and hung up she could feel the Dash was on a steep descent.
‘Strap in,’ Lauren said. ‘Five minutes to touch down. I’ll shut the left engine down, throw you out and we’ll be airborne again before the trackers even notice. No job is worth the lives of your family.’
‘Thanks, Lauren. I appreciate what you’re doing.’ Kait’s throat was tight and the tears she held so close were threatening to spill over. Kindness did that to her.
‘Any time.’
Kaitlyn hugged her arms around her body. Her stomach was churning. Could she have misread Ryan so badly? Was he working with Speedy and not with the AFP at all? He’d never admitted to being an undercover cop. Did she so desperately want to believe in him that she’d turned him into something he wasn’t?
The aircraft vibrated as the undercarriage came down and she braced against the pitch change as the flaps extended. Out the window she could see the flat, red-brown earth around Mareeba Airport.
Lauren had the aircraft stopped outside the largest hangar minutes later. ‘Good luck,’ she said, turning around as Matt went with Kait to open the air-stair door. ‘Go get ’em. Call if you need me. I’ll handle Tony.’
As Kait ran across the tarmac and into Gordo’s office, the Dash had already pirouetted and was roaring down the runway. If anyone could talk their way out of this, Lauren could.
Gordo greeted her with the keys in his hand. ‘Here you go, girl. It’s half full. Do you need it long?’
‘Can I let you know? It’s a family emergency.’
‘Not Julia, is it?’
‘Not exactly. The fire’s headed for us.’
‘Oh, shit. Whenever, then.’ Gordo waved her protest away. ‘Go. You know which one it is?’
‘The white Nissan.’
‘That’s it. Get outta here.’
The big diesel under the bonnet seemed to shudder as she floored it up the Walkamin jump-up. The poor old thing was used to plodding everywhere at 80. Once she pushed it over 110 the wicked vibration in the steering wheel stopped, although the directional control was pretty loose. She was gambling that none of the speed camera guys would be out and about. The fires would be draining all available resources.
She checked her phone again. Still no signal. She couldn’t ring anyone, not even the police. All she could do was hope they’d already apprehended Brad Ryan and Speedy. The vicious headache tightened its grip and she ran her hand around the back of her neck, trying to relieve some of the tension. It didn’t work.
In the flat country leading up to Tolga and the turning to Oakey Creek she had a clear view to the south. Columns of smoke towered above the landscape. The sky ahead was a boiling black mass with flashes of red. Hell on earth. The visibility overhead was lousy, but she could still pick out storm cells mushrooming high above the Tablelands.
In the rear-vision mirror she could see clear blue summer sky with not a care in the world. Somehow the contrast felt like the U-turn her life had just taken. And she hadn’t seen it coming.
A low-flying crop duster growled past, probably headed for Mareeba to refuel. Another line of cars towing caravans loomed ahead. She hit the accelerator, winding the old car up. In the distance she could see a semitrailer heading towards her, but she figured she should make it if she overtook.
Pulling out, she realised there weren’t any gaps between the three car-and-van combinations. She willed the clunky vehicle to go faster, feeling herself physically pressing into the seat as it rumbled up the road. One of the cars tooted her as she shot past. The semi flashed his lights, veering towards the hard shoulder, and she darted in front of the lead vehicle with the sound of horns blaring in her ears. Her heart felt like it was going to crack open her chest.
Until she knew her son and mother were safe, nothing was going to stop her. She had to assume they were at the house and she needed to reach them. If they weren’t there then Julia had already driven to safety and that would be a blessing.
She had a mental picture scorched into her brain of where the roadblocks had been set up. Driving into Happy Jack Road wasn’t possible, but a firebreak cut through the plantation at the midway point. Provided the fire wasn’t spreading too quickly it was her only way in. The track came out on the escarpment halfway between her place and Ryan’s. She felt her lips compress at the thought of him.
How could he have deceived her? The proof was there in the photographs, wasn’t it? He was driving Speedy’s ute and leaving the scene of a newly lit fire. Where was he headed now? To pick Speedy up at the top of the trail? Did they then plan to escape in Ryan’s car? The pain in her temples from the stress was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She’d let this man into their lives and now he and his actions were threatening everything she held dear.
She hit the turn-off just past Tolga and headed up into the hills. Gordo’s car was going to be put to very good use. She just hoped its four-wheel drive mechanism was actually working.
It occurred to her that she had no idea if it had free-wheeling hubs or not. Knowing Gordo, it would have. She swerved onto the hard shoulder, slamming to a halt in a shower of dirt and hopped out. Yep, she was right. It took a moment to lock them in place and she grimaced when she noticed an oil stain discolouring the left-hand one. Please, please let it be working. The terrain up the track was going to be challenging. The last thing she needed was to get caught in a fire.
Climbing back into the big car she realised the radio was crackling with static. She hit the wrong button trying to turn it off and picked up the local ABC station. The news was on, which meant a weather report would follow. She turned up the volume and floored the accelerator again.
Just before she got to the start of the trail, the calm voice of the announcer promised a cool southerly change sometime this afternoon.
‘Oh God,’ she prayed aloud. ‘Please let it come in time.’ A southerly would push the fires back over the land already ravaged. Sure, as the initial change hit there’d be danger, but with preparation it would ultimately help the firefighters get on top of the situation.
For her house it would mean a reprieve, but until that change arrived she was going to do everything to make sure her family were safe.
Everything.
Chapter 46
HIS eyes streamed and his lungs laboured, but Speedy didn’t stop. He pulled the neck of his T-shirt higher to cover his nose. The muscles in his legs quivered and the soles of his feet sported grape-sized blisters.
The terrain was impossibly steep. He’d left the pine forests behind twenty minutes ago. Between the tall native eucalypts the grass grew sharp and spindly, slashing at his legs and catching his overalls.
The ground rustled with escaping animals. Everything was trying to move to higher ground, away from the fire. He’d discarded the drip torch when it ran out of fuel, but it had done the job. Behind him, the hillside was an inferno and he needed to keep moving if he were to stay ahead of it. So far it ha
d grown in intensity rather than spread rapidly. But a wind shift or a change in the fuel load could alter all that. Ahead, through the trees, he could see the crown of the rose gum that stood in the Scotts’ yard. Not far now.
A sharp crack behind him made Speedy spin on his heels, the sudden change in direction sending him crashing to the ground. Several hundred metres below him, on the line where the plantation met the old-growth forest, a gum already dead before the fire had succumbed to the heat. The ancient giant toppled down the slope, crashing through the pines below, splintering wood and showering sparks as it fell in a gathering rush. Embers rained down around him, borne by the wind that was racing ahead of the fire.
He slapped at several smouldering patches on his clothes and pulled himself to his feet, pushing on up the slope. None of this was in his plan. By now he should have been attending the fire out at Carrington Road, well away from his latest masterpiece. He’d done everything right until that scum had followed him.
As he carried on forcing his way up the hill, he tried to make sense of Ryan’s actions. If he was a Fed it might explain the lily-white record, sanitised by his masters, but that didn’t excuse what Speedy had seen with the boy. Being a Fed didn’t make him pure as the driven snow. Anyone could be a paedophile. His stepfather had been a bank manager, for Christ’s sake. And he’d gone to confession and church on the odd occasion.
Yet Ryan’s claims probably did mean the cops had finally caught up with Speedy. He was never going back inside again. Sure, he’d learnt how to do things the right way in there, shut up and survive, but he wasn’t doing it again. He’d die before he let that happen.
A stupid business degree in his mid-forties wasn’t useful when he had nothing else to back it up. What a friggin’ joke.