Red Dirt Country

by Fleur McDonald

  ‘They don’t know how to run stations anyway. Like Dad used to say, they wouldn’t know how to look after the stock. Best we have them. But you’ve added something personal now. The fact that they abandoned me in the bush.’ He looked over at his brother.

  ‘Did the cattle even mean anything to you, or was it all about getting back at them?’ Kit asked.

  ‘I don’t give a fuck about the cattle or the money. It was never about that. It was about seeing them turn against each other. The Elders are upset Kev’s gone to the cops, and, now he’s gone, well, they’re not going to cause us any trouble. He’ll be frightened when he turns back up again. We’ll be able to walk all over the place and take cattle whenever we want and they’ll let us.’

  Kit watched as Boyd tightened his hands on the wheel and smiled. ‘No more problems from them. When Kev goes back to the community, Jackie will be angry, start to shut him out. The others won’t want him around because he’s caused trouble. This’ll be a massive warning to them all. They’ll toe the line for a lot of years to come.’

  The road become rougher—the little-used track was full of corrugations. Overhanging branches were whipping along the side of the ute. A couple of times Kit threw his hand up to protect his face from the branches, even though he was inside the cab.

  From the back seat came a muffled moan. Boyd drove faster again, the steering wheel shaking under his grip.

  ‘Mate, slow down,’ Kit said again. ‘I’m sure there’s a—’

  He hit the roof of the cab as they nose-dived into a ditch and came to an abrupt halt. The noise of crumpling steel rose into the now-light sky along with the screech of galahs. And then there was silence.

  ‘You okay, brother?’

  Boyd’s voice broke into Kit’s haze of pain. When he opened his eyes he saw a wall of red dirt rising in front of him.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, you idiot,’ Kit snapped, rubbing his head where it’d connected with the roof. I told you to slow down. No point in killing us in the process!’

  Boyd looked back and saw that Kevin had been thrown forwards and he was now awake and struggling against his restraints. ‘Need to knock him out again, can you do that?’ he asked, jamming the ute into four-wheel drive reverse and gunning the engine.

  Kit watched his brother’s leg, waiting for him to let the clutch out, and braced for the jerk when he got out of the ditch, only to find that the wheels were spinning.

  ‘Fuck,’ Boyd muttered and stopped.

  ‘Rock it out,’ Kit snapped. ‘Change gears from reverse to first and keep rocking the ute back and forth.’

  Finally the wheels finally gripped and they reversed out.

  Kit looked over at his brother and grinned. ‘Bit of excitement.’

  ‘That we could have done without.’

  In the back, Kevin made another whimpering noise. ‘I’ll give him another whack,’ Kit said. ‘He’s so far gone it won’t take much to knock him out again. Stop when you get out on the road.’

  Boyd pointed the ute back out onto the road and started to drive. The ute limped forwards, shuddering, and Boyd had to grip the steering wheel hard to hold on.

  ‘Flat tyre,’ Kit said, glancing around nervously.

  ‘And steering, I reckon.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  Boyd stopped the vehicle and they both got out, Kit gasping as he tried to put his foot on the ground. ‘You’ll have to get under and have a look,’ he said. He held onto the open door as Boyd got down on his back and shimmied under the vehicle.

  ‘Steering rod’s bent.’

  ‘Back tyre this side,’ Kit said.

  ‘Can you grab the spare?’

  Kevin kicked at the door, his foot connecting with steel. He continued to bang against it.

  ‘Mate, I can’t walk, if you hadn’t noticed! Oh, for fuck’s sake. Stop doing that!’ Kit hopped to the back door, reefed it open and hit his passenger again. Kevin went still and Kit slammed the door shut. ‘Just change the fucking tyre and let’s get going.’

  ‘Going to be hard with the steering the way it is,’ Boyd said, getting out the jack. He grunted as he put it under the axle and started to lever it up.

  Ten minutes later, with the tyre changed, they limped off again.

  Following Jimbo’s directions, Dave drove carefully along the overgrown two-wheel tracks, hoping with every corner they rounded to see Boyd’s vehicle broken down.

  ‘Which way are we headed now, Jimbo?’ he asked, leaning forwards to look out the window at the sun.

  ‘North, boss. Bit of Crown land up here. Might be heading there ’cause there’s a track that heads back to Deep-Water.’

  ‘You don’t think Cassia Plains?’

  Jimbo shook his head. ‘Nah. If it’s Boyd they’ll be heading back to Deep-Water. He knows this country as well as I do. And Dylan and Boyd don’t get along. They won’t be working together.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘They had a punch-up at the rodeo four years ago and Dylan said never to come near him again.’

  ‘Do you know what it was over?’

  ‘A woman.’

  ‘That’ll do it every time. Who got the girl?’

  ‘Dylan.’

  Dave nodded and swung the wheel of the troopy to avoid a deep ditch.

  ‘Stop!’ Jimbo yelled.

  Dave slammed his foot on the brakes. ‘What the fuck?’ His heart was pounding. ‘What’ve you seen?’

  Jimbo was out of the ute and on his knees before Dave could yank the handle of the door open.

  ‘Look here, they’ve been stuck. He’s nose-dived into the ditch.’

  It was easy to see what Jimbo was talking about now that Dave was on the ground. There were deep grooves in the dirt where they’d reversed, and soil had been sprayed out from the wheels as they’d tried to get the tyres to grip.

  Jimbo was further down the road now. ‘They’ve had a flat tyre. See here.’ He pointed to the indentation in the ground and Dave snapped more photos. ‘And look how the tread is heavier on one side of the ute. I reckon they’ve damaged the steering.’

  ‘You’re a legend, Jimbo,’ Dave said, impressed. ‘I would have missed that without you. Right-oh, let’s get going again. We’ll keep at them.’

  Dave increased his speed as he drove, hoping Kit and Boyd were only just in front. He’d calculated that changing the tyre would have cost them fifteen minutes and with the damaged steering their speed would be much slower. Maybe they could gain on them.

  He jerked the wheel to take a sandy corner and the back of the ute swung outwards. As he came out of the slide, he pressed the accelerator harder for more power.

  Glancing across, he realised Jimbo was hanging on hard. ‘Okay?’ he asked.

  Jimbo didn’t say anything, only stared ahead. Dave gripped the wheel harder and watched the road, making sure he avoided any potholes or trees, anything that could damage the vehicle.

  ‘Cattle around here, boss,’ Jimbo finally said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They walk on the roads sometimes.’

  Dave lifted his foot a little and the troopy slowed a fraction, just as the CB burst into life, causing both men to jump.

  ‘Stock Squad, Stock Squad on channel 40, you got a copy, Dave?’

  Dave recognised Glenn’s voice over the scratchy radio. Slowing down, he picked up the handset: ‘Stock Squad receiving. Yep, got a copy there. Where are you, Glenn?’

  ‘Mate, we’re about twenty k east of Spinifex Downs heading in a north-east direction. In the air.’

  Dave looked up; nothing but blue sky. A quick glance at his GPS to read his position showed they weren’t that far away from each other.

  ‘Roger, Glenn, we are about twenty-five ks ahead of you, heading in a similar direction on an overgrown track. Moving towards Crown land.’

  ‘Copy that, will call when we have you in sight.’

  Returning the handset, he looked over at Jimbo. ‘Reinforcements have arrived,
Jimbo. Just what we were looking for. Make things a bit easier if they can pick up Kit and Boyd and direct us to them. Sort of feel like I might be chasing a phantom because I don’t know where they are!’

  ‘Tracks are still there, boss.’

  Dave nodded, focusing on the twin tracks they were following, snaking through the scrubby bush.

  Suddenly the track seemed to come to an end, thick branches covering where the track should have led. He slammed the brakes on, then threw the vehicle in reverse, trying to see where he’d missed a turn.

  ‘See anything, Jimbo?’

  ‘Let me get out.’

  Dave stopped the vehicle and both men got out and ran back the way they’d been driving.

  ‘Here!’ Jimbo pointed to a spot about twenty metres back. ‘They’ve gone east, straight through the scrub. Broken branches.’ He walked in and disappeared from view. ‘There’s more of a road here and I’ve got the wheel tracks,’ he called.

  Running back to the car, Dave kept reversing carefully until he came to where Jimbo had disappeared, and there he swung the nose of the ute around before carefully driving in. The bush opened up and he could see the road easily again.

  ‘Quick! Jump in, mate,’ Dave called. He stopped the car long enough for Jimbo to climb in through the passenger door and then headed off in pursuit of the unseen vehicle.

  ‘Stock Squad, Stock Squad, channel 40. Got a copy, Dave?’

  Dave grabbed at the mic. ‘Yeah, Glenn, loud and clear. Where are you?’

  ‘We were tracking slightly south of your current location and nearly missed you but picked up a reflection from your windscreen. Just about overhead of your location now. You should have eyes on us in about one minute.’

  ‘Copy that. Can you see where this track is heading, over?’

  ‘Yeah, Dave, it’s going to get pretty rough in about five hundred metres, but you should make it through okay. Deep creek with a rocky bank you’ll have to get up. After that, you’ll swing east again in about a k. There appears to be another river coming up in a few ks.’

  Dave visualised the rivers criss-crossing the land, tall gum trees lining the banks and rough outcrops of rocks dotted everywhere. He’d have to be careful he didn’t get a flat tyre.

  ‘Up there, boss.’ Jimbo pointed out the plane in the air just above them.

  ‘Got eyes on you, now,’ Dave said into the mic. He thought for a minute then depressed the button. ‘Glenn, can you see any other vehicles in the vicinity?’

  ‘That’s a negative. We haven’t sighted anyone else. But we’re on the lookout.’

  ‘Maybe best if you can swing ahead of us and see if you can pick up anything. We saw a while back that they’d gone nose-first into a ditch, and Jimbo tells me they’ve damaged their steering so they may be having issues or have broken down. They’ve also had a flat. They’re going to be slower than us and I want to catch them.’

  ‘Copy that, will sweep ahead and keep you informed. I have relayed our position back to Bob on my sat phone. He is liaising with the district office and getting further resources out here …’ The static on the radio broke up the last few words, but Dave got the gist of what Glenn was saying.

  ‘Good job. We’re looking for a Land Cruiser ute or similar based on the tyre tracks. Definitely a four-wheel drive. But check out anything you see as they may have another vehicle out here.’

  There was a silence before Glenn answered again. ‘Copy that. Are the suspects known to us?’

  ‘Affirmative.’ Dave wasn’t going to say anything more. Channel 40 was the public channel of every truckie in Australia, not to mention the tourists. Trouble was, Glenn didn’t have a police radio in the plane he’d hired and Bob didn’t have one back at Spinifex Downs, so they didn’t have a secure channel.

  A thought crossed Dave’s mind.

  He picked up the sat phone and dialled Glenn’s number. ‘Boyd Shephard and Kit Redman,’ he said when Glenn answered.

  ‘You’re kidding me?’ Glenn sounded astonished at the news.

  ‘I wish I was.’

  Chapter 35

  Hanging on to the steering wheel for dear life, Boyd felt like his arms were going to shake loose from their sockets. The steering rod had been damaged so severely he was lucky to be able to hold it on the road at all—the left wheel kept fighting to tear itself away from the front suspension. He gritted his teeth and kept on driving.

  ‘Lad,’ his father had once told him, ‘there’re millions of acres up here and plenty of spots to hide bodies without being discovered. But, just in case they are found, it’s best not to let them turn up on your station.’

  ‘Where should we put them then?’ he’d asked.

  ‘Have a look at this,’ Old Man Redman had said, pulling back a large bush to reveal a deep cave under the ground. ‘Army built these bunkers back in the war. They’re all over the place if you know where to look and most people don’t because they don’t even know they’re here. Government likes to keep these things quiet. Best thing about them? They’re on Crown land. Anyone could’ve put these bodies here.’

  ‘There’re some in there?’ Eighteen-year-old Boyd’s eyes had been wide as he’d peered into the gloom.

  His father had laughed. ‘I’ll tell you all about it one day, lad, but needless to say, yep, there are a few bodies in there that no one will ever know about.’

  They hit another deep crevice and Boyd was pulled back to the present as Kit let out a cry.

  ‘God almighty! How much further until we hit the main track?’ he groaned, clutching at his ankle.

  ‘Not far until we stop,’ Boyd said. ‘Just over the next ridge.’

  ‘Thank fuck for that. We need to get to the bunker and get rid of him and the ute. I’d reckon everyone would know what’s happened now, with Kevin missing and all. But whether they’ve tied it to us or not, or if they’ve talked to the coppers, we can’t be sure. Those cameras could’ve fucked us over.’

  ‘Nah, I said before, I reckon they’re bluffing. Didn’t find any trace of them.’

  Kit looked out the window. ‘If the coppers are involved, they’ll have the planes up spotting and there’ll be people looking for us on the ground. That Bob, he knows enough about the Aboriginal people to have trackers on us.’

  ‘We’ve got time on our side. They couldn’t have discovered Kev was gone until daylight and then it will take the police a few hours to get out there and track us. I think we’re fine for time.’

  Then Kit turned on Boyd and snapped, ‘We should have been there hours ago and we would’ve been if you’d listened to me and slowed down!’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Boyd answered lazily, grabbing the wheel back as it bounced out of his hands. ‘So you’ve told me every five minutes since it happened. Stop repeating yourself.’

  Boyd directed the ute up the winding track and crested the low ridge. ‘There we go,’ said Boyd with satisfaction as he looked out over Crown land, which was covered with trees, grasses, termite mounds and deep valleys. The ridges sent out long shadows across the land. ‘Not long now.’

  One hundred metres ahead was a graded track.

  Kit heaved a sigh of relief as the bumpy road became smooth. They turned south and headed towards the low range of red hills that stretched away from them to the east.

  ‘Be there in about twenty minutes.’

  ‘Good,’ said Kit. ‘We drop Kev and this ute and head back to Deep-Water like nothing happened. Need to get back there before anyone comes looking for us.’ He paused. ‘You’re certain this ute can’t be traced to us?’

  ‘I told you, it came from a mate who stole it years ago. Nothing to tie it to us. We push it into the bunker and anyone looks they will just think someone dumped an old wreck. The bunker slopes down and goes in about eighty feet and is black as night, so why would anyone bother? Plus, like Dad said, hardly anyone knows about them.’

  ‘Have you been in there?’ Kit asked. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah, mate. I’ve walked d
own to the bottom.’

  Kit looked ill at the thought of walking down into a musty, airless cavern.

  ‘Want to know what’s in there?’

  ‘I already know.’

  ‘Yeah, but you don’t know how many.’

  ‘No, I don’t. Let’s keep it that way.’

  Without speaking, they continued along the track at a sedate pace, the shuddering front end threatening to give out at any time.

  Jimbo pointed as the pilot completed another swoop along the bottom of the red ridge. The fact that the plane banked to pass over the hill again meant they’d seen something.

  Dave wanted to stop and watch, give his shoulder a break. It was aching from the effort of holding the steering wheel in rough conditions, but he had to keep his foot down.

  ‘Reckon they’ve spotted something, boss,’ Jimbo said. ‘They’re banking.’

  ‘Stock Squad, Stock Squad, channel 40, do you have a copy, Dave?’

  Dave grinned and gave Jimbo the thumbs-up. ‘Affirmative!’

  ‘We have a vehicle travelling east on the old bunker access road south of your location. A white Toyota ute.’

  ‘Roger that,’ Dave answered, the urgency in his voice clear. ‘Any idea how far we are from that track?’

  ‘Hold five.’

  Dave flicked on his flashing lights so the plane could locate their vehicle more easily. The plane swung back to the north.

  ‘Roger, Dave, we have you in sight. You’re about one k from the track and I would guess you are about fifteen kilometres behind the ute. I’m tracking the suspects.’

  The slowness in Glenn’s voice indicated to Dave he was looking through binoculars, watching the other vehicle as he spoke into the radio.

  ‘Suspect’s vehicle is travelling very slowly.’

  ‘Copy that, we’ll see if we can pick up the pace a bit. Any way you can slow that ute down even more?’

  ‘We’ll see what we can do, Dave. Push on as quick as you can. I’ll update Bob with our location and see how far off the cavalry are.’