by Giulia Skye
“Do you think we’ll get to Derby before nightfall?” she asked, noticing it was almost half past three. Derby was a three-hour drive away and it got dark at six. “You don’t have any roo bars fitted.”
“Roo—oh, yeah. Yeah, we’ll make it.”
“I heard kangaroos jumping across the highway at night cause more fatalities than shark attacks.”
“Right.” He gunned the engine.
“But cattle are just as bad. There are a lot of cattle stations here and cows wander onto the highway—especially calves—and especially at dawn and dusk when they’re most active, and…” She trailed off, noticing he wasn’t really listening.
She always talked too much when she was nervous. Head still spinning from this sudden and spontaneous change of plan, Evie took a moment to steady herself. Her nerves still jangled from her exchange with Zac.
She took a deep breath, pushing it all to one side.
“Do you have camping permits?” She was keen to address the subject of their car-share and how it was going to work—another thing that always made her appear boring: her practicality and love of details. “We can get permits in Derby,” she continued, brightly. “I’ve got the tourist office address in my notebook—that is, I assume you were going to camp at Windjana and Geikie.”
“Yeah … yes. Of course.”
“Camping’s the best way to truly experience the outback, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely.”
As he negotiated a junction, Evie looked around the truck. She’d expected the interior to be just as shabby as the outside, but other than a tear in the fabric on the corner of her seat and a couple of dark stains that looked like coffee, it was very clean—and empty. The floor wasn’t ankle deep in scattered belongings like the backpacker tours she’d taken and the only items on the back seat, other than her bag, were a camping mat still in its wrapper and the towel and shower gel she recognized from the day before.
A flash memory of his naked groin had her eyes darting to his crotch. “How long have you been traveling?” she asked, feeling hot despite the air con gushing on full blast.
“A few weeks.”
“How long are you away for?”
“A few months.”
Evie’s eyes wandered to the curve of his lean torso where his baggy T-shirt had caught in the waist band of his shorts, pulling tight across his flat stomach. She forced herself to look away, recalling what he’d done the last time he’d caught her staring. “I’ve got a list of things I’d like to see,” she said, and seeing him naked again sadly wasn’t on it. “You’ve probably got one too. We should compare.”
“Yeah, let’s.”
He drove steadily out of Broome, passing the shops and cafés with which she’d become so familiar. She mentally said goodbye to the town, promising to come back one day, and soon they were following signs to Highway 1.
“What do you do for work back home?” she asked, wanting to kick-start a conversation.
He scratched at the bristles on his chin. “I … work at a gym. I’m a personal trainer.”
“I should have guessed,” she said, and immediately regretted the thoughts that led back to his fit body. A blush crept up her neck and she moved swiftly on. “Lorraine mentioned you drove up from Port Hedland.” Evie rubbed her knees again, looking forward to hearing about the adventures he’d no doubt had off the beaten track with his kiss-ass vehicle. “Did you drive up all the way from Perth?”
“Yeah.”
She waited for him to elaborate—and prompted when he didn’t. “How long did you spend there?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “Not long.”
“Did you drive along the coast or inland?”
“Bit of both.”
They reached the highway, bleached-bark trees blurring past as they picked up speed. “Did you see the reef?”
“What reef?”
She turned to him, puzzled. “The Ningaloo.”
“No, I … missed that out.”
“Did you stop in Monkey Mia?”
“Briefly.”
“Karajini.”
“Eh?”
“Karajini National Park.”
“No, I just drove up.”
He just drove up? Evie stared ahead at the ashen-gray road stretching out before them. What kind of traveler just drove up? There was so much to see and do, and—ah … Okay, she got it. He didn’t want to talk.
Slowly, Evie sagged back in her seat. She’d always been a naturally inquisitive creature, but it was rare for her not to make friends easily. She glanced across at Adam, who, still wearing his shades, stared rigidly ahead. She tried to marry up the socially rusty man he seemed today with the cocky, naked one of yesterday.
She’d been so intrigued by him then. That sink-your-teeth-in body, his like-what-you-see-honey? and even the way he read his map over the bonnet. It had all led her to believe he was a man of substance and adventure, when really, he was little more than a gym bunny traveling from A to B, too busy posing in his rearview mirror to take in the view.
Well, she was fine not talking. It was unlikely that someone who just drove up had anything interesting to say, anyway. All she had to do was get on with him for as long as it took to see the Kimberleys which, judging by his whistle-stop style, would be just a few days. She didn’t have to form a lifelong attachment to him. This was a partnership. A business deal. And she was under no illusion as to the reason he’d offered her a lift. He’d answered her ad because he needed help covering fuel costs—nothing out of the ordinary throughout the backpacker trail, especially in an area that had some of the highest prices in Australia—though her ad had specified costs and adventures. She doubted she’d get much of the latter.
She gazed at the smooth puddles of heat haze that splashed over the dips in the road miles ahead, then spotted two white cockatoos flying among the taller trees in the distance on the right. Eventually, a green highway sign came into view—Derby 190 kilometers. She sagged a little more in her seat. What on earth were they going to talk about for that length of time?
And then she remembered last night on the beach.
“I saw you on the low tide walk,” she said. “Did you see the wrecks?”
“Some.”
“That guy George who does the talks is a friend of Lorraine’s.”
“Right.”
“He teaches at the high school …”
Oh, dear. Another boring fact he didn’t want to know. She set about thinking of questions she could ask him that required more than one-word answers—a little game to pass the time—but she couldn’t be bothered to pursue it. She looked sadly out of the window, her thoughts wandering back to Zac. Car-sharing, so far, wasn’t turning out to be the distraction she’d hoped.
Zac was always there beneath the surface, as were the pent-up tears clogging her system. She needed to get it all out, de-clutter her emotions like a good spring-clean. If she were at home, she’d have a good cry in front of an old film, eat a pile of chunky salty chips and half a tub of ice cream, then go for a hard, fast run the next day to burn off her binge on junk food and sentimentality.
It was almost like Zac had been leading a double life, his new girlfriend, their baby. Her father had done exactly that, secret wife and family. She was struggling to believe how Zac could turn out to be like him, someone who would forget about her so easily, off to live another life. A better life. One that didn’t include her.
She bit her lip to fight off the threat of tears and stole a glance at her new travel partner. Crying in front of this guy Adam would be a complete disaster. She imagined him huffing impatiently, then dumping her at the next service station.
Evie reached for the water bottle she’d placed by her feet, took a few sips then pulled her notebook out of the small rucksack she used as her day bag, in which she kept
her most vital items. She settled on a page she’d written when she’d been recovering from food poisoning. It was one of her Kimberley itineraries. Day one: depart Derby for Windjana Gorge. Overnight Windjana for two nights. Day two and three: explore Windjana Gorge, drive to Tunnel Creek …
She doubted Adam had made schedules as detailed as hers. He’d mentioned nothing about his plans, and they had yet to speak about tonight’s accommodation. Not that she was too worried about that. After eight months of traveling, she’d grown confident at being able to find safe accommodation. She had a list of Derby hostels—and the more expensive hotels if she got desperate—in her notebook and a street map of the town in her bag.
This was the end of the season and she knew she wouldn’t have trouble finding a place to stay the night. She was a savvy traveler these days, and as they drove through a vast, unchanging landscape of bushes and red earth, she told herself it would all turn out okay. She’d have a brilliant time. She would. She’d make sure of it, and if warning bells rang that she’d made a mistake accepting a lift from this taciturn man—and complete stranger—she didn’t listen.
She was too busy reminding herself she was having a fabulous adventure on the other side of the world.
Adam glanced across at Evie and recalled one of the times Saskia had thrown a plate at his head.
Fuck you, Michael. Don’t you ever have anything to say?
The plate had struck his forehead and smashed on the floor, each tiny piece a fractured reminder that his marriage had been a mistake. The money just hadn’t been worth it.
Next to him, Evie pulled a music player attached to earphones out of her bag. “Mind if I listen to music?”
“No, go ahead.”
He’d made a mistake, too, in taking a partner on the road to Darwin. He could see now that offering Evie a ride had been a panic reflex. He’d been too wrapped up in himself to consider the reality that became obvious as soon as they left the café together and all the questions had started. He didn’t have a background for Adam, and he wasn’t a skilled enough liar to bullshit about places he’d barely seen, especially to someone who had. Had he thought they’d just sit in silence for two thousand kilometers? Idiot.
Every time he opened his mouth, he’d be stepping out into a minefield. When he’d been competing, he’d had no problem answering questions in front of the world’s cameras. Still breathless and dripping from a race, he’d been able to relay details of his performance with ease, riding the blast of exhilaration that came with a win. But he’d known what he’d been doing then—and now? Shit.
Even opting for the truth had made him look weird. He’d seen the expression on her face when he’d told her he’d just driven up. Adam might sway with the breeze, he might drift with the tide, but he was meant to be a traveler and surely even a loser like him would take in the goddamn view and have something to say about it.
So could he really do this? Could he prance around the outback pretending to be someone else? He looked at the road ahead, and as Evie listened to her music, Adam began to think about his background. He’d already told her he was a personal trainer working at a gym, but that aside, it struck him that he could become anyone he wanted to be. The possibilities were endless, which was ironic really, because when he’d retired, he’d been clueless about what to do next.
He’d been swept along by fame and fortune, but he’d never wanted those things. As a child, he’d wanted to drive trucks across Alaska’s frozen lakes. He’d wanted to build houses and work in a zoo, though nothing else had mattered once he’d discovered his love of swimming. His father had noticed it too and had encouraged his son’s talent and passion. It was surprising to remember now how in tune Bobby Adams had been to his eight-year-old son.
Twenty-five years later, they couldn’t be further apart.
The kilometers rolled by and his new travel buddy, still plugged in to her music, eventually fell asleep. He took in the unchanging scenery. Vast areas of Canada were just the same, only they were covered in forest green rather than outback red. His drive up from Perth, though spectacular in places, had been no different. Adam was used to it. Gazing at the empty highway and the constantly unreachable horizon, he zoned out. An hour went by.
And then a sharp movement out of his window caught his eye. He snapped out of his trance and slammed on the brakes.
CHAPTER 7
Evie hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until her head hit the window.
“What happened?”
Adam was still gripping the wheel, even though the truck had just come to a bumpy stop in a cloud of red dust. “A kangaroo. It came out of nowhere.”
She searched the road but could only see trees and bushes. “Did you hit it?”
“No, I think we would have heard a bang if we had.”
Adam hopped out to check the front of the truck, and she took a moment to settle herself. How long had she been sleeping? Ten, twenty minutes? She rubbed her forehead. Had she snored? She sometimes did, or so Zac used to say. Delightful. She leaned back, her head fuzzy from sleep and a shock awakening. She glanced at her wristwatch and worked out they were probably halfway to Derby. “Everything okay?”
Adam stood in the doorway. “We’ve got a flat.”
“A flat tire?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to change it?”
He merely glanced over his shoulder at her as he walked to the back of the truck. She took that as a yes and guessed he was one of those men. The ones who mistook questions about their mechanical prowess for questions about their very manhood. Well, she’d seen Adam’s manhood—did that mean they’d be back on the road in a jiffy?
She didn’t think so. Not if the sounds from the back of the truck were any indication.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, kneeling on her seat to look at him through the rearview window of the truck. He didn’t look too happy as he shifted the water tank and a box of what looked like kitchen supplies to one side.
“Nothing.”
But there was something. He looked too flustered, too anxious, for it to be nothing.
“Can I help?”
“No.”
Evie flopped back into her seat. He didn’t have to snap at her. She watched him in the rearview mirror, frowning at wrenches and spanners.
“Son of a bitch.”
This time, she walked to the back of the truck. He was making her feel uneasy.
“What’s the problem?”
“I’m afraid we’re not going anywhere just yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t have a jack.”
“You don’t have a jack?”
“No. No jack. It’s missing.”
“Is this some kind of joke?”
“I’m afraid not.”
She stared at him. He didn’t look like he was joking but neither was he looking as worried as she felt about the fact they were stuck on a deserted highway. He just looked … resigned.
“So … what now? We just wait for someone to drive by?” She hadn’t seen another vehicle for nearly two hours, not since the outskirts of Broome, and she doubted a whole string of traffic had passed by while she’d been sleeping. She swallowed hard, noticing daylight was fading fast and realizing there was next to no chance of getting to Derby tonight. “It’s not safe to sleep on the side of the highway,” she said, panic rising.
“What other option do we have?”
He was right—and she was nervous. She’d had enough spontaneity for one day. Maybe if Adam didn’t look so casual about the whole thing, she’d calm down a bit and not bear all the worry. He was acting like this sort of thing happened all the time, when really, it bloody didn’t. Who drives up from Perth in a serious outback truck without a jack? Did this mean he’d also overlook other fundamental elements, too, like fuel? Or had he at least th
ought that much ahead?
“We’ll just move the truck farther into the bushes so no one can see,” he was saying. “Then we get it out again in the morning. It’s no big deal.”
No big deal? But she didn’t want to stay out here! She’d slept under the stars plenty of times on the backpacker tours she’d taken, but that had been at campgrounds with a group of like-minded people, not in the middle of nowhere with a man she barely knew.
And what if some lunatic drove up to them in the middle of the night? It wasn’t like they could call the police and have them come over in minutes if something bad were to happen. What if they were robbed or murdered, or—
“It’ll be fine,” he said, obviously seeing the growing distress on her face. “Just take a moment. I’m off to find a bush.”
“A bush?”
“Yes—a bush.”
Oh.
She watched him cross the highway and disappear behind the trees. Someone like Lorraine would be hooting at the adventure of being stranded, but Evie’s insides were crawling with discomfort. There was no glory in feeling afraid.
The idea of riding off across the outback with a man she barely knew hadn’t seemed too wild in the town, but out here where the vastness rendered her as just another human being, those strong urges she’d had for escape and adventure were overshadowed by a sobering reality and an increasing apprehension.
Something didn’t feel right—he didn’t feel right.
She took her phone out of her bag. No reception, not that she expected any. She reached for her water bottle and noticed it had rolled under the seat during the drive. She bent to look underneath and found it wedged next to something pink and frilly.
Pink and frilly?
The color—so out of place in the truck’s dull, spartan interior—piqued her interest. She pulled it out, the material soft and stretchy, then saw with some revulsion that it was a pair of knickers. Ewwww. She really didn’t need any evidence of Adam’s undoubtedly high sex drive right now. She didn’t want to dwell on the women he’d picked up and had in his truck. Yuck. She screwed up her nose thinking about the naked bums that had used the seat before her.