Sally lay on the ground, watching Charlie walk into the bush. He went up the path on which they came down the day before. She was so confused. Everything had happened so quickly. She was in shock. Where was he going? What was his plan? Her mind was cloudy, and she couldn’t think straight. With her weak hands, she pushed herself up, intending to chase him. Her body was heavy. Her legs stumbled on the clearing’s rocks.
‘Charlie,’ she cried out. He didn’t turn around.
Instead, he disappeared into the thick bush.
She wasn’t going to stop now, and she wasn’t going to run away from this, she was going to get him. Stop him.
This time, unlike every other time in her life, she was not going to run away.
Sally followed with all her effort. Her body was swaying, but at least she was moving up the path, following Charlie. She was weakening by the moment, her movements became more and more sluggish.
She called out again. ‘Charlie.’ She had to stop him, stop whatever it was he was going to do. Whatever his plan was.
The drugs were taking hold, her vision narrowed.
She was catching up to him though. She could see his back ahead through the foliage. She was close to running, but he was strolling like it was a leisurely walk.
A branch whipped across her face, and she dabbed her cheek. Her fingers were red. Blood.
She looked back up, and there he was. Charlie was standing, facing her, only a few feet away. He was staring at her, staring at her with the same expression he had back at the harbour. ‘Trust me, Sally. I have a plan. Go back to your tent and wait for me,’ he said.
And then he was gone.
Sally yelled out his name again. Her throat was hoarse. She stumbled forward, and a rock caught her foot. She fell. Leaves and twigs scratched her face. She was in the soil.
Charlie's car engine revved to life. The tires screeched on the dirt track as it sped away towards the highway, away from her.
‘Charlie,’ she whimpered, but it was too late. He was gone.
He had her phone.
She was stuck now, face in the dirt. Her mind clogged up, the drugs were seeping in. She started to close her eyes, struggling to stay awake. Her body was giving up.
Her vision went dark.
36
She was falling. Down, down, down into an invisible whirlpool.
She couldn’t see anything. Everything around her was black. Darkness.
Feeling entered her, anger, sadness, regret, guilt.
Panic.
She tried to cry, but couldn’t. How did she get here?
A memory.
She was back home. A child.
Above her, the sky was grey, no sun. The clouds rained down, a drizzle.
Her hands were gripping something heavy. Its weight caused her arms to shake in the effort to keep holding it up. The thing was so wide her fingers couldn’t wrap themselves around it. Sally focused to remember what it was. It was something important. A bow.
Her mission was to shoot an arrow from the bow.
She was in some kind of field. Grass surrounded her with trees on either side, a shooting range. Straight ahead of her, the target was propped up on a board. Colours ringed around a spot. The bullseye. As the size of a child, the target seemed so far away, so distant and unreachable. How could she be expected to aim the bow, let alone send an arrow all that way into the bullseye?
Someone spoke over her shoulder. ‘Sally, line your body up to the target.’ A strong and steady voice, her Dad. His hands rested on her shoulders. He was like the bow she held, large and imposing. Unbendable. Using his hands, he gently pushed her so she was facing perpendicular to the target down the range, and then he whispered into her ear. ‘That’s it, Sally, that is perfect. Now, you need to stand up straight.’
He let her go and stepped backwards. All she wanted to do was impress him, make him proud.
His hands had left their mark on her, shaping her. His touch lingered like a ghost. Her back was erect, and her shoulders pulled back, just like her Dad had taught her. She had to be firm and alert. ‘Is this right, Dad?’
‘You’re spot on,’ he said. He came up beside her and handed her an arrow. ‘Attach the arrow to the string.’
‘Yes, Dad.’
‘What is it called again?’
‘The nock.’
‘Correct. Now lift your bow with your left hand.’
‘It’s so heavy, Dad.’
‘It is. But it is what you’ve got to do. Do you want to shoot the arrow?’
‘Yes.’
He pointed at the bow. ‘Then lift it. Do it just like I’ve shown you before,’ he said. ‘You’re stronger than you think, Sally.’
She nodded, trying to make him see that she understood him. Sally gripped the bow tightly between her hands and lifted it. She’d seen him done this so many times. She used to sit on the benches and watch him. He’d made archery look so easy. The bow was so heavy, but she wanted Dad to be proud. She didn’t want him to be ashamed. She wanted to be just like him.
The arrow was now at her eye-level. ‘I got it,’ she said.
‘Okay, now line up the arrow to the target. This is when you have to aim, like a sniper in the army. You want to hit the bullseye, so focus on it.’
‘I’m scared.’
‘What about?’
‘I can’t do it.’
Her Dad walked over and crouched so they were on the same level. ‘It is difficult. Things can be difficult. But sometimes you have to pull yourself together and get them done, no matter how hard they might first seem to be,’ he said. ‘Do you really want to do this? You can always give up.’
‘I want to do this, Dad.’
‘Then focus on it. Pull back the string. It’s going to be difficult but pull it back as far as it can go. Then, when you’re ready, let the arrow fly. Point and shoot, that’s all you’ve got to do.’
‘Okay, Dad.’ She did what she was told. She pulled back the string. As far back as she could go. The tension was electrifying, stinging her fingers. The bullseye was in her sights.
She let go.
The arrow shot out, and the bow shook with the force. Her footing wobbled.
The arrow spun into the dirt a few feet short of the target, and Sally began to cry.
‘Don’t be upset, Sally,’ her Dad whispered. ‘We all make mistakes, especially on our first try. How about you try again? You can always try again. You learn from past mistakes, that’s fine. The worse thing is if you forget about them.’
‘Okay,’ Sally replied, unsure.
‘How about you try again? Learn from your past.’
She did. This time she followed the same instructions as before, but put more of her strength into it. When the pressure in the bow became unbearable, she released the arrow and watched it fly.
A thud.
The arrow hit the target. The top right corner, just on the edge.
Her Dad was next to her, and she could sense the joy radiating from him. His happiness made her happy. ‘Look at that, Sally. You did it. You hit it.’
‘It wasn’t anywhere near the bullseye, Dad.’ She’d seen him get right into that centre dozens of times.
‘Sally, you’re a natural. What did I tell you about trying again? You hit the target. You could’ve stopped, you could’ve run away, but you stood your ground and faced your weakness,’ he said. ‘I am so proud of you, my princess. This calls for a celebration, ice cream?’ He took the bow off her and held her hand in his.
‘Yes, please,’ Sally said. Inside, she was beaming. He was happy. She was like him.
Her Dad was smiling at her. ‘You’re amazing,’ he said. ‘You see? Sometimes things may be really hard and seem impossible at first. But when you try, you realise you can do it. I believe you can do anything, Sally, nothing is ever going to stop you.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘Come on. You did something amazing today. Smile for me.’
And she did.
&n
bsp; 37
It was the noise that woke her. The roar in the dark, piercing the air.
A flash of light rotated over her, like a wave. Sally’s mind was clouded. Everything moved at a slow pace. She couldn’t speak. She struggled to open her eyes. Her body was slow to react to her commands. It was dark. She couldn’t see properly. Everything was a haze. Night.
Slowly, feeling flowed into her body. Sally could feel again. Then the pain started. It shot through her. Every joint ached. Something sticky and wet was clinging to her cheek. She brushed it from her face. It was a leaf.
She was lying in dirt. There was blood on her hand, red and brown, a cocktail mixture of the bush floor and her body. The blood must’ve come from her face. Her finger touched her cheek. She wasn’t bleeding any more. The world around her came into focus as her eyes opened. Darkness. It was night.
She’d been chasing after Charlie. But how long ago had that been? A day? More? She’d been drugged, he'd left her there. He left her alone in the bush, left her to die. That was in the morning, and now it was night. Had that been yesterday?
The noise that had woke her could’ve been her imagination, but it wasn’t.
It was a car parking.
The light that had rotated over her had been the car’s headlights.
This meant that Charlie was back.
Somewhere, a car door creak open and shut close.
Sally tried to lift herself out of the soil. She failed and her body collapsed into the dirt. The dirt in her mouth was soggy and bitter. Her mind might’ve been hazy, but she knew she couldn’t stay down, she had to move.
She tried to stand again. She was unsteady but was successful at getting up. Her feet felt like they were stuck in the ground. She took a step forward, then another. Her body moved like a rusted machine like it was learning to walk again. She needed to move.
She stumbled up the path towards the car’s headlights, her eyes down, watching the ground. She tripped over a root and fell forward. She wrapped her right arm around a nearby tree to catch herself. She glanced up to see where she was. She was out of the bush. She was at the track.
The car was parked ahead of her, and all the lights were on. The engine rumbled, still running. Sally staggered towards it. She could see an outline of someone bent over, a man.
Charlie.
He was reaching for something on the back seat. He must’ve heard her. He turned around. In his hands, he held a thick strand of rope. Surprised at Sally, he dropped the rope on the dirt track.
‘Sally?’ He said. ‘You’re awake. Good. I’ve come back. I told you I would.’
Sally tried to say something, but her mouth couldn’t construct words. Her throat was so dry.
Charlie picked the thick rope up from the track. ‘You must be so tired and confused, Sally,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry for having to drug you like that, but I had to. I hope you understand. You will understand.’
The world was spinning in Sally’s head. She was close to falling over. She fought against it, trying to steady herself. She had to focus. Charlie continued talking to her, but her mind couldn’t define what he was saying, everything was a blur.
‘I’m actually glad you’re up here, you’ve saved me a lot of work,’ Charlie continued. ‘I’ll show you what I’ve done, and then you’ll understand why I had to leave today. Come here.’ He grabbed Sally by her wrist and pulled her along to the back of the car. His grip stung. Her body was sluggish. He could move her easily, without any struggling from her. ‘Look what I’ve brought, Sally. This will make you understand. This will change everything.’
He clicked the boot open, and the door flew up. Charlie held Sally by the neck, twisting her to look inside the boot. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and what was inside made her gasp.
Ashley.
She was lying in the car boot. Her hands were tied with a rope, resting in front of her chest. Her mouth was gagged with a hand towel. There were dark streaks down her face. Dried blood.
Sally’s first instinct was to be sick. She retched, and she wanted to scream. Her drugged body refused to do either.
Charlie was still clutching her neck, and he gestured at Ashley with his free hand. His excitement was spread in a grin. ‘I had to use your phone, Sally. It was hard, but I got her. I had to pretend I was you. She posts every little aspect of her life on Instagram. It was pretty easy knowing where she was. I found her. We met up. Now I have her. It’s all for you. Isn’t it great?’
‘No, no,’ Sally whispered in shock.
Charlie brushed her hair back tenderly. She couldn’t fight him. ‘You told me in the car that you wanted to kill her, Sally. You’ve been so angry with her. Like I’ve told you, she’s been holding you back. You need to be free of her, and then you can be with me. You need to be free of your past. I’ve brought her to you, so here’s your chance.’
Ashley’s eyes were wide. She recognised Sally, and she started to scream against the gag in her mouth. Sally attempted to communicate with her friend through her eyes, tell her everything was alright, but that was a lie. Charlie's hand squeezed around Sally’s neck. His grip was so tight, and Sally couldn’t move. Her arms were limb from the drugs’ side effects. She was completely in Charlie's will.
Sally was panting. Her chest rose and fell.
‘You can do this,’ Charlie said. ‘You can do it. I believe you can. There will be nothing between us, nothing holding us back. You do this now, and then you’ll realise you love me as I know you do. You’ve just got to do it. I can show you.’ He reached for her right hand, clasping it in his left. His other hand stayed wrapped around Sally’s neck. She was too weak to fight back. He forced her hand towards Ashley’s neck. ‘All you have to do is put your fingers there and strangle like I showed you the other day at the bar. It isn’t hard. Then it will all be over, then you and I will be together with nothing stopping us. Then you will love me, Sally.’
‘What?’
‘It’s easy, Sally. You said you wanted to kill her. You could kill her. Finally here’s your chance. And I brought her. Do it.’ He held her hand around Ashley’s throat. Charlie smiled, and he tightened his grip. He was staring at her.
What had Ashley told her the other day? She’d said Sally could never confront others. All the times Sally had backed down in her life. All the times she’d run away from a fight.
What would her Dad do?
This time she won’t run away. This time she’ll fight.
‘No,’ she said to Charlie.
‘Do it,’ he said.
‘No,’ she repeated, stronger. His grip tightened around her neck. He had her hand over Ashley’s neck. Her fingers touched her friend’s skin.
She was no longer panting. Her breathing slowed. She tried to focus on what was happening, what Charlie was doing to her. She tried to focus on her hand forced around Ashley’s throat.
She counted her breaths.
One, two, three.
Her free hand was touching something made of metal.
Four, five, six.
Her fingers clasped around the metal. It was the arrow necklace.
Seven, eight, nine.
In one quick movement, she tore it off its chain and started to stab the air.
Ten, eleven, twelve.
The metal arrow was hitting skin, puncturing skin.
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.
Her hand was dripping with blood, thick running blood.
‘No,’ she said again.
This time she was shouting.
‘No!’
Next to her, Charlie was thrashing wildly. He stumbled, and he let go of Sally. She turned to face him. Wide eyed, Charlie reached for his neck. The arrow necklace was lodged deep into his throat, right in his windpipe. He tried, and failed, to yank it free with his hands, his mouth opening and shutting. Desperation and pain. He glared at her. He failed to remove the necklace, and Sally saw the anger in his eyes, the anger directed at her. Even as he stood, dying in intense pai
n, he still wanted to hurt her.
The cover of the car was cold as she leant against it, watching the man bleed to death. Inside the boot, The hand towel in her mouth muffled Ashley’s screaming. She could wait. Sally couldn’t take her eyes off Charlie as he collapsed on to his knees in the dirt in front of her. He stared at her with hatred in his eyes. She didn’t move as he gasped for air, his fingers groping uselessly for the arrow necklace lodged in his throat. He couldn’t take it out. He couldn’t even breathe. He made a series of gurgling sounds as the blood rose in his throat, and his windpipe was crushed.
With a final snarl directed at her, Charlie fell forward. Lying face down on the dirt track, his back rose up and down in quick shallow breaths.
Sally tilted her head back, regaining air. She understood what she needed to do. She dashed around to the back seat of the car, searching for something sharp. Under the driver’s seat, she found a small knife. It was exactly what she needed. She sprinted back to the boot and cut through the rope tying Ashley. Sally ripped out the gag and wrapped her arms around Ashley, lifting her out of the boot.
The two friends hugged, the tightest they’ve ever hugged each other. It was even tighter than when Sally first saw Ashley after her Dad passed away.
‘Sally,’ Ashley whispered in her ear.
‘Are you okay?’ Sally asked, her voice faint as well. ‘Your head is bleeding.’
‘I’m alright,’ Ashley said. She started crying on Sally’s shoulder. Sally wanted to cry herself.
The Busker: A gripping psychological thriller Page 21