Blood Sport (45 page)

She roused lethargically, managing to open one eye. But it immediately rolled back into her head and she drifted off into a happier place than where she’d been lately. Sighing with resignation and with great difficulty, I hefted her onto my right shoulder and in the brightening gloom, staggered down Mountain Road towards the highway intersection.

Unfortunately, I had underestimated the work ethic of the three bikies. According to the first road sign I happened on, we were fifteen kilometres down from the intersection.

That was a terribly long hike to make carrying someone, but what choice did I have? At least it was downhill, less steep and twisty the further you went from the mountain. And hopefully the searchers would come to check out this road soon.

They didn’t.

I trudged through the rain, swapping Kylie from shoulder to shoulder when my muscles screamed too much. I watched the sky lightening from dark to light gray. After about five kilometres, I managed to rouse her for a little while and she stumbled next to me, giving me a temporary break from her weight. The road cut up her bare feet as we walked and she clutched my arm painfully, crying incoherently the whole time. I couldn’t blame her – I felt like crying myself. But instead, I spoke to her cheerfully, urging her on and even singing that stupid little pop song that I had grown now to passionately hate. She bravely joined in the singing for a few bars and laughed once, before beginning to cry again. Then she laid down on the road, curled herself into a ball and refused to budge.

Poor
little thing
, I thought. She’d just had enough. I picked her up again, despite every muscle complaining. I told myself to simply take one step at a time. We were nearly there, I also told myself, even though I knew we weren’t even close.

One step at a time, one step at a time
, I recited repetitively. And strangely enough it helped me get into a rhythm of sorts, matching my footsteps to the mantra. But the power of that started to fade once I reached the ten kilometre mark.

I placed Kylie down gently on the road. She had genuinely blacked out again. I laid down on the road next to her and stretched every muscle gratefully, resting my aching spine and shoulders. I threw back my head to fill my parched throat again and again with rain water, swallowing voraciously. I was so thirsty. My stomach grumbled. I told it to shut up. Kylie probably needed water too, but I didn’t know how to help her to have any without drowning her, so I let her be for now.

Five more kilometres. It didn’t sound like much. In a car, it was a mere blink. On a bike, not much of a challenge. By foot, an enjoyable little fun run. Carrying another human being when you were injured, drugged, exhausted, freezing and had already walked ten kays – oh baby, it was one long stretch of nightmare.

I allowed myself to rest for what I judged to be ten minutes. It could have been ten minutes; it could have been three hours. I had lost all perspective on time. I dutifully hauled Kylie up and over my shoulder again and clumped off.
It was only five more kilometres
, I told myself. I ran more than that every morning. It was nothing. But why did it feel so much?

One step at a time, one step at a time
. That kept me going for a few minutes, and the thought of a steaming hot shower and a three course meal kept me going for another while. What would be on the menu? A traditional spread, I wearily decided. Soup to start with, of course. Something hot and comforting. Something with lots of vegetables and pulses, maybe barley or lentils. The main course would also be hot and comforting. Roast anything with all the trimmings and crispy baked potatoes. I spent an entire five hundred metres plodding along thinking about those potatoes. Maybe they’d even be cooked in duck fat?
Oh God!
My stomach growled unhappily. The dessert would be hot and comforting as well. Some kind of sweet pudding with custard. Maybe even a delicious golden syrup pudding like Nana Fuller used to make? I was so hungry. My stomach grumbled again and I told it to pipe down.

The next road sign informed me that the intersection with the highway was in one kilometre, so I should prepare to slow down.
Thanks for that
, I thought nastily as I staggered past, barely able to plod one foot in front of the other. I wouldn’t want to cause an accident with my excessive speed, would I?

I stopped just after that sign and carefully placed Kylie on the ground again, stretching all my muscles with painful pleasure. Where the hell was everyone? I had honestly thought that the place would have hundreds of people searching for me everywhere. Helicopters, sniffer dogs, spotlights, maybe even the army being called in – the whole works. But obviously nobody cared at all. There was nobody looking for me. Probably nobody had even noticed that I was missing.

Oh dear!
I could recognise a self-pitying bad mood building when I felt it. Instead of giving in to it, I harnessed that last bit of energy to pick Kylie up again and lurch that final painful thousand metres to the intersection, my legs on the verge of collapsing.

When I reached the highway, I lay Kylie gently on the ground and looked one way then the other, stretching again. The lawn cemetery was to my right on the corner of the intersection, Little Town was to my left. But where was the traffic? The whole place felt quiet and empty as if everyone was waiting for something.
Well, it obviously wasn’t for me to reappear
, I thought bitterly. After a few more seconds of stretching, I hauled Kylie onto my shoulder again and staggered left, towards town.
So much for frigging white knights
, I thought with vicious resentment. Where the hell were they when you really needed them?

It was two kilometres into town. I actually laughed out loud when I remembered that. Another two kilometres! At this juncture, it might as well have been two hundred kilometres. There was a small property about a kilometre away, and I decided to aim for that instead, hoping the residents were home so I could use their phone.

About halfway there, I heard the very welcome sound of a vehicle approaching from the south. I rested Kylie on the ground and turned around to wave them down from the side of the road. Because I’d given Kylie my jacket, my bulletproof vest with POLICE written on it was clearly visible. I was confident I’d soon be sitting in the back seat of that car speeding to the station.

It was a silver station wagon with interstate licence plates. The male driver and his female passenger regarded me curiously as they passed by and kept on driving.

They didn’t stop for me.

I ran into the middle of the road, staring after them in stunned disbelief, watching their tail lights recede into the distance. Two women by the side of the road in the pouring rain, in obvious distress, one of them a cop, and they didn’t stop. What the
hell
was wrong with this world?

Muttering to myself, I picked Kylie up again, ignoring the protests from my back and shoulders. I had just stepped forward to trudge off when the sound of another vehicle approaching at a great speed also from the south broke through the dawn quiet. I put Kylie down again and turned, stepping out onto the road. I wasn’t going to give this person the chance to ignore me.

A frog-green hatchback came hurtling down the highway towards me and I groaned to myself in dismayed disbelief.
You have to be kidding me
, I thought. Still, a car was a car, even if it was being driven by a joyriding, unlicensed escapee from a mental health clinic. I waved my arms and once Martin recognised me, he screeched alarmingly to a stop, skidding the last fifty metres in the wet conditions, forcing me to jump out of the way or risk become bug splat on his windscreen.

Panting with exertion, I opened the back door and dragged Kylie’s limp body onto the back seat. Our wetness was going to make a mess in the car, but that was the least of my concerns. I moved around to the driver’s seat and opened the door.

“Hello, Officer Tess. What are you doing out in the rain?” asked Martin, smiling happily at me.

“Martin, I could kiss you right now,” I told him wearily. His smile grew larger. “Shove over.”

For once he didn’t demur and scooted over to the passenger seat obediently. I slipped behind the steering wheel, slammed the door and screeched off, tyres squealing.

“Turn the heating up to full blast, please,” I asked him, starting to shiver uncontrollably.

“It is already, Officer Tess.”

“Is it? I’m so c-c-c-cold.” My teeth began to chatter.

Martin babbled cheerfully about himself all the way into town. I didn’t listen, thinking about what to do next for Kylie. She needed urgent medical attention and I was wondering if I should just drive her straight to Dr Fenn at the prison. But when I drew near the police station there were patrol cars and unmarked cars parked everywhere. The station was in darkness, but every light was burning at the Sarge’s house. I drove past the station carpark entrance, instead turning into the police house driveway. I parked as close to the stairs as I could amongst all the other vehicles present.

I jumped out and opened the back door, hauling out Kylie and picking her up in my arms one last time. I teetered falteringly towards the house, my legs shaking with the effort.
Nearly there
, I told myself desperately,
nearly there
.
Don’t stop now. Just a few more steps.

The sound of the car drew someone’s attention to the front of the house and an excited shout rang through the air.

“It’s Tessie!” shouted the voice, then into the house, “She’s back! She’s okay!”

Before I knew it, I was completely swarmed by people. Someone took Kylie from me and rushed her upstairs into the house and I was crushed by people surrounding me. Everyone was bombarding me with questions and shouting to each other and talking into their phones about me. I had five people all trying to hug me at the same time and another three yelling at me. I was overwhelmed by the attention.

“Get her inside out of the rain, you fucking morons,” the Super shouted, her growly, husky voice cutting through the rabble. “Her lips are blue. She’s probably hypothermic. Has anyone rung that prison doctor yet and told him to get his fucking arse over here ASAP? Someone call an ambulance too.”

People raced off to obey and I was swept inside, the next few minutes nothing but a confusing blur. I was assailed with questions and no sooner had I started to answer someone when someone else butted in, distracting me. I couldn’t concentrate on anything or anyone and I couldn’t stop shivering.

“I’m s-s-s-s-so c-c-c-c-cold,” I shivered, hugging myself, my teeth doing the Samba against each other. My whole body began to convulse with shivering.

The Super grabbed my arm and forcefully propelled me through the crowd, towards the bathroom. “Maguire,” she screamed over her shoulder. “Get Tessie some warm, dry clothes to change into.”

In the bathroom, with the door firmly locked, she helped me to strip off my wet clothes, leaving them in a soaking pile on the floor. While she turned on the shower for me, carefully adjusting the temperature, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I wished that I hadn’t. I was palest white, my dark gray eyes virtually black in contrast, faint bruises where those men had backhanded me emerging on my face. My hair was a tangled wet mess, full of leaves and pieces of bark. Fiona was right – my lips had turned blue.

“I don’t know whether to kiss you or kick you, you stupid, crazy girl,” Fiona snapped tersely. “You’ve put us all through the wringer a hundred times over.”

“I’m s-s-s-s-sorry, F-F-F-F-Fiona,” I shivered as I stepped into the shower. The barely lukewarm water hit my frozen skin as if it was scalding.

“It’s too hot!” I screamed in pain, trying to jump out again.

“Stay in there,” she ordered, cruelly pushing me back under the tepid stream. I tried to escape a couple more times, shrieking loudly, but she had a tight grip on my arm. Someone anxiously banged on the bathroom door and Fiona yelled at them to piss off. She held me in place until eventually the water heated my body and I could appreciate its warmth. A few minutes later and I had turned the heat up a little and was able to start washing myself and my hair, the feeling returned to my limbs.

A soft knock took the Super to the door, and after a brief murmured conversation, she returned and placed a pile of clothes on the vanity. I stayed in the shower, not wanting to ever get out, but Kylie was in need too.

“I better get out so that Kylie can have her turn,” I said reluctantly, lathering up my hair again, wincing every time my busted finger touched the tender place where I’d been whacked on the head.

“Don’t worry about her. The prison doctor is here looking after her and an ambulance is on its way. Besides, the forensics team will want to keep her unwashed at this stage for evidential purposes. Not that there will be much evidence left after being out in the rain for so long.”

Of course – I should have realised that, but I just didn’t seem to be able to think straight. “Poor girl. The things those men did to her. I got there just in time. I’m positive they would have killed her.”

“Tessie . . .” She sighed wearily, but said no more, testament to her great self-control.

Eventually I dragged myself out of the shower and dried off, changing into the clean, dry, warm clothes. Apart from the underwear, which was mine, all of the other clothes belonged to the Sarge. I pulled on his thick woollen socks while the Super gently combed and then blow-dried my hair for me. It was a touching rare domestic moment between us. She leaned down to kiss me on the top of my head when she’d finished, showing just how much my disappearance had shaken her. We locked eyes in the mirror, and I blinked away the tears that sprang into mine before I noticed that she was doing the same.