The Stone Flowers

by Nora O'Keeffe

  Maggie glanced at the trees crowding the road like long, dry fingers reaching out to prevent them passing, their shadows casting jagged lines across the bitumen. She could hear the sound of a lone crow squawking in the distance. “Ghost tracks,” as Doug called them, was a fitting title. Eager for a distraction, she leaned down and fiddled with the radio.

  “Mind if I put some music on?”

  “Help yourself,” Doug said without taking his eyes off the road.

  Maggie ran the dial across the display, but each station crackled with static. She pulled the phone out of her bag and checked for a dial tone. Nothing but crackling and a faint high-pitched screech.

  “Jackson, is your phone working?” Maggie asked.

  Jackson took out his mobile and put it to his ear. “No. Just static.” He put it back in his pocket.

  “There’s a magnetic field in the ground out here. Probably interfering with the signal.” Doug glanced at Maggie. “Nothing works out here.”

  She nodded, but wasn’t convinced that was the only reason they were suddenly cut off from the rest of the world. She wondered if Prapti knew they were coming. The woman had been spying on her over the last few days, but it would be impossible for her to be following them out here without being spotted.

  She searched through her bag and found the notes she’d made before leaving home that morning. A Familiar is a demi-supernatural being with mystic powers which they use to spy on people. The words looked sinister and foreboding. How could she have been stupid enough to think they could just drive out here and surprise Prapti?

  “I think she knows we’re coming.” Maggie held the paper up.

  “How could she?” Jackson asked.

  “She knew where I’d been, who I’d spoken to. I thought she was following me – you know, parking near my house and watching me. I think it’s more than that. I think she’s got some sort of telepathy or…Or something with the birds lets her know what people are doing. I know it sounds crazy—”

  “No more crazy than anything else you’ve told me about the woman,” Doug said, cutting her off. “She might know we’re coming and that loses us the element of surprise, but she’s not all-powerful or she would’ve stopped us before we got this far. I’m betting she doesn’t know everything we have planned.”

  Maggie thought for a minute. It made sense. If Prapti knew what they were planning, then why hadn’t she done something to stop them?

  “He’s right, Maggie,” Jackson said. “For all we know, she can read people’s minds, but that doesn’t mean she knows everything. From what you’ve told me, her only other power is saying mean things.”

  Maggie couldn’t help smiling. “I hope you’re both right. I guess we’ll soon find out.”

  They drove on in silence for a while, each of them lost in thought. Even with the windows down, the air in the cab was heavy with the scent of tobacco and sweat. The two smells mingled with the scent of her deodorant, making her stomach churn. Would Prapti smell them approaching like some sort of feral night creature?

  The incline in the road increased until it was clear that they were heading up into the hills. But it wasn’t until the thick bush gave way to sparser growth that they could really see where they were going.

  “Do you think we’ve passed the turnoff?” Maggie turned, searching the road behind them.

  “No. I don’t think so, but the bush was so thick back there it would have been easy to miss. We’ll keep going for another ten minutes or so and if we don’t see anything, we can always backtrack.” Doug pulled off his cap and wiped his forearm across his face.

  Maggie wished her phone was working so she could call Mary and check on Harness. Her mind drifted back to the night before, the way Harness touched her face as they made love. She’d never felt that connected to anyone before, not even her ex-husband. Last night was different, like she was finally where she was supposed to be. The thought of never feeling that way again was worse than the fear of facing the demon.

  A loud bang brought her out of her reverie. The car lurched forward and then spun to the right. Jolting forward, Maggie slapped her palms on the dashboard. A shudder travelled up her arms, jarring her shoulders.

  Doug struggled with the wheel, trying to bring the Ute under control as it veered towards the edge of the road. The tyres squealed as the steering locked before the vehicle shuddered to a stop. The contents of the back of the Ute clanged from one side to the other.

  “You okay?” Doug sounded breathless.

  Maggie nodded, too shaken to speak. Jackson said he was fine and climbed out of the cab. Before following him, Maggie wiped her damp palms on her jeans and let out a shaky breath.

  Doug bent and examined the front right tyre, which was completely shredded. He pulled something out from under the wheel and stood up. “Barbed wire. Not supernatural powers, just an old-fashioned booby trap.” With a disgusted grunt, he flung the mess of tangled wire into the bush.

  “I guess that means we’re getting close.” Maggie couldn’t pull her gaze away from the shredded rubber.

  “Time for a smoke.” Doug leaned against the cab. His voice was steady, but Maggie noticed his hands were trembling.

  “I guess I’ll get the spare.” Head down, Jackson headed for the rear of the Ute.

  Maggie grabbed a cigarette out of her bag and lit it. Her heart was doing a weird jittering and blood was whooshing in her ears. They were getting close. She could feel the tension twisting in her gut, making the cigarette taste like sour milk. She tossed it onto the track and ground it out before following Jackson.

  He had the back of the tray down and was reaching for the spare.

  “That was intense.” She tried for a laugh, but it sounded more like a pant. “You okay?”

  “I’m good.” He spoke over his shoulder. “I’ve decided that when this is over, I’m leaving. Leaving Thorn Tree.”

  Jackson bounced the spare tyre onto the ground and then reached in and grabbed the jack. Maggie watched him, not sure how to respond. Over the last week, she’d come to rely on him, not just in the café, but as a friend. She couldn’t imagine life in Thorn Tree without him.

  “I’ll miss you.” It sounded lame, but she meant it.

  “Well, you’ve got the cop now and I need to get out. I can’t live with my parents forever.”

  Maggie was surprised by the hurt in his voice. She’d always thought he might have a crush on her, but because of the age difference had never given it much consideration. She wondered how she could have been so blind and insensitive.

  “Jackson, I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. I never realised—”

  “Forget it.” He cut her off. “It’s not your fault. I’m just being an idiot. I need to get this tyre changed.” He turned his back, rolling the tyre along the cracked road.

  Maggie put her hand on his arm and stopped him. “You’re not an idiot. You’re kind and brave and I consider you my friend. If you have to go, I understand, but I’ll miss you.” She let go of his arm, not sure what else to say.

  He nodded without looking up and continued rolling the spare towards the front of the Ute. Fifteen minutes later, with the shredded tyre in the back of the Ute, they were moving.

  They’d been driving less than five minutes when Doug spoke. “There it is.” He pointed to the left about ten metres up the road. Maggie registered a gap in the bush, a dirt road, barely visible until they were almost on top of it. She wondered how Doug, who she guessed was about seventy, had spotted it so easily.

  “How did you—”

  “There are skid marks on the road,” he said, answering her question before she could finish. “It looks like someone drives in and out of there in a hurry.”

  Maggie looked back at the road and saw black marks scarring the bitumen. She was no expert, but the lines looked fresh, as though someone was using the turnoff regularly.

  Doug turned onto a side road that was little more than a gravel and red-dirt track with weeds growing up the ce
ntre. The path snaked its way uphill as the vegetation became sparser. Nothing but tall gum trees grew amongst small clumps of twisted scrub.

  “This area used to be grazing land before the bushfires drove the sheep farmers out. We must be getting near the edge of the National Park, so it can’t be much farther.” Maggie was only half listening; her attention was focused on the hills ahead, which she scanned for some sign of the cottage.

  Skin tingling with gooseflesh, her senses felt heightened – ragged. It was an unpleasant feeling, like sitting on the dentist’s chair as he leaned over, razor-sharp needle poised to enter the soft flesh of her gums. Only at this moment, the dentist would be a much easier option.

  The car jumped slightly as they drove over a hump in the track. As the vehicle rose, Maggie caught a glimpse of something dark and angular on the horizon. A snatch of black only visible for a fraction of a second, long enough to recognise the tip of a roof.

  “Stop!” Maggie grabbed Doug’s arm. He stomped the brake, grinding the vehicle to a jarring halt.

  “I think I spotted it, but I need to get a better look.”

  “I don’t see anything,” Jackson said, searching the hills.

  “Let me out. I want to get on top of the cab so I can see.” Maggie flapped an impatient hand in Jackson’s direction, urging him out of the Ute.

  Once on the track, Maggie headed to the back of the vehicle and unbolted the tray. She clambered up on the back of the Ute and made her way to the cab, taking care to avoid stepping on any of the gear they’d packed. Jackson followed a step behind while Doug stood next to the vehicle, hands on hips, gazing up at them.

  “Here.” Jackson crouched so she could use his knee to step up onto the roof.

  She braced herself with one hand on his shoulder as she climbed onto the roof. She was about to turn and offer him her hand, but Jackson gave a small jump and lifted himself onto the cab in one easy movement. They stood side by side as the roof of the vehicle groaned under their combined weight. The increased height gave Maggie a better view, but it was still difficult for her to make out anything but the topmost peak of what appeared to be a black roof.

  “What do you see?” she asked Jackson, who at six foot three inches had almost half a metre of advantage.

  “It looks like two buildings. I’d say the smaller one in the front is the cottage and the one behind it with the bigger roof might be a shearing shed.”

  “Any idea on the distance between the buildings?” Maggie turned to look at him. The afternoon sun was on his left, momentarily blinding her.

  “Hard to say, maybe twenty or thirty metres.” Maggie could hear his words, but his face was obscured by a halo of sunlight. For a second, he looked ethereal, like an angel. A cold shiver ran up her spine. She turned away off balance and sat on the roof so she could slide down to the vehicle’s back tray.

  After they’d both clambered down from the Ute, Maggie pulled the old red towel out of the black backpack she’d borrowed from Jackson. She tore it in two long strips and handed one to each man before tossing the bag back into the Ute.

  “Tie it around your neck. It might help.”

  Doug took the strip of fabric, but hesitated. “What is it about the colour red?”

  “I don’t know,” Maggie answered honestly. “I didn’t read anything about why it would deter the Acheri, just that it would.”

  “Red is the colour of power, it’s supposed to open a pathway for justice. It’s also the colour of blood, which is a symbol of life.” Noticing the way both Maggie and Doug were staring at him, Jackson flushed. “It comes up in lots of mythologies from all over the world.” He paused, and when neither Maggie nor Doug spoke, he added, “I looked it up last night after talking to my gran.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” Doug said, tying the strip of fabric around his neck.

  “Okay.” Maggie tossed the pack back in the back of the Ute. “We need to separate. I’ll take the car and drive up to the house. Once I get to the top of that rise,” she pointed to an area about fifty metres ahead, “she’ll be able to see me. Hopefully she’ll think I’ve come alone. I’ll keep Prapti occupied while you two approach. I’m guessing the demon is in the outbuilding. That’s where you both come in.”

  “What about the paint?” Doug asked.

  “I’ll park the Ute on an angle so when you approach the house, you can grab it out of the back. If everything goes to plan, Prapti will be too busy with me to look out the window and see you or Jackson.”

  “What if Prapti gets past you and reaches us before we get to the shearing shed?” Jackson asked.

  “You’ll have to...subdue her.” Maggie looked from Jackson to Doug, noting their grim faces. It was clear the idea of subduing a woman didn’t sit well with either man, but now wasn’t the time for scruples.

  “She’s a killer.” Maggie waited until both nodded their agreement.

  Before she got in the Ute and drove away, she kissed Doug on the cheek and wished him good luck. When she approached Jackson, she felt a little awkward, but if they were going to do this, then she was determined to do it properly. She stood in front of him, rolling up onto her tiptoes, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him into an embrace.

  “Be careful.” She whispered the words close to his ear, feeling his breath on her face.

  After a slight hesitation, his arms came around her, holding her in a tight squeeze before releasing her and gently pushing himself back. An image of him surrounded by sunlight flashed in her mind. Whatever happened next, she’d always hold this moment in a corner of her heart. A memory to take out and examine whenever she thought of him.

  The two men watched Maggie climb into the Ute and drive towards the rise.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  “Don’t die on me.” Rodney took his hand off the wheel and tapped the slumped figure on the shoulder. He waited, heart pumping like a fire hose.

  “I’m not going to die.” Harness’s head rolled to the left. His eyes opened with all the speed of a senior citizen waking from an afternoon nap. “Just keep your eyes on the road.”

  Rodney let out a breath and nodded. “Just checking.”

  They’d been driving on Knoll Road for what felt like an eternity. The antiviral injection and fluids had helped, but Harness felt like there was a brass band working on either side of his head, but instead of a tin drum, someone was playing a tune on his skull. The road doubled then came into focus. Staying upright without sliding onto the floor of Rodney’s truck took every bit of strength left in his body. He put his hand on the Smith and Wesson Police Special that was sitting on the seat between him and Rodney. The cold metal felt good against his hot skin. He hoped he’d have the strength to use it when the time came. But with each fit of shivering, he wondered if he’d have enough energy to lift it, let alone shoot straight.

  “This was a bad idea. I should’ve come on my own.” Rodney gave him another edgy glance.

  “Look, Rodney, I don’t want you getting mixed up in all this. Just drop me off and then drive back to town.” Harness hated the waver in his voice as he tried to suppress a cough bubbling its way out of his chest. Rodney was clearly regretting driving him out here. It wouldn’t take much for him to change his mind and turn the car around.

  He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes as the vehicle rattled over the uneven road. Less than an hour ago, Harness had been in his bed struggling to breathe. When he’d questioned Mary on Maggie’s whereabouts, she’d been reluctant to talk. It was only when he tried to get out of bed that she’d given in and told him about the shearer’s cottage. Within moments, Rodney showed up and, while Mary protested, Harness had convinced him to drive him to the cottage to look for Maggie.

  “Why did you come to check on me?” Harness spoke without opening his eyes.

  “What?”

  “You showed up at my house to check on me. How did you know I was sick?”

  Rodney gave a long sigh. “Annabel
told me. She was worried about you.” He paused. “She’s worried about Maggie too. I said I’d check on you.”

  Harness opened his eyes and watched Rodney drive. “Tell me… what Annabel said about Maggie?”

  Harness listened silently while Rodney recounted the incident in the motel room.

  “Annabel said the woman knew Maggie was coming.” Rodney took his eyes off the road and glanced at Harness. “She told me the woman was going to hurt Maggie.”

  Harness sucked in a breath that stabbed at his chest like a nail. “Can this thing go any faster?”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The Ute’s bonnet tipped over the rise, giving Maggie her first real look at the single-storey shearer’s cottage. Sitting on a flat area directly beneath a steep hill covered in greyish-green shrubs and long yellow grass, the cottage looked ancient. Maggie let the vehicle roll forward, taking in the building’s grey walls, which were scarred and blackened, suggesting it had escape a fire at some point. What remained of the building looked brittle and ready to collapse. Behind it was a larger structure, partially obscured like a hulking giant.

  Maggie’s heart rate kicked up a notch as she eased the vehicle forward towards the final incline. The porch spanning the front of the house had come away from the main structure, dipping dangerously to the right. Tin sheeting on the high and unusually pointy roof was stained orange with rust, but intact, with a stone chimney rising to a jagged spike at the rear of the structure. The windows were hidden beneath the shadow of the crumbling porch roof. The overall look of the place reminded Maggie of a witch’s house, sinister and desolate. Like a crouching monster, it seemed to be waiting for her – trying to make itself less threatening. It couldn’t look more terrifying if there were bats flying out of the chimney. A dry pant emerged from her lips, as close to a laugh as she could muster.

  In front of the house and to the right sat a large black van. The vehicle looked newish, but was covered in dust from numerous journeys on the dirt road that accessed the property. A group of weeping peppermint trees grew around the left-hand side of the house; their fibrous trunks and graceful dome shapes offered a spot of colour to the ramshackle scene.