Carrier (14 page)

I held my breath and waited, knife ready, slingshot tucked into the back of my pants. My fingers groped the ground until they found a small, smooth rock and I pressed it into my palm. The girls ran back up the hill, growled and bared their teeth at the car, before edging back and repeating the process again and again.

Car doors opened and slammed shut and I froze, my breath held. The girls ran back, their heads dipping. They circled the bush I hid behind and then inched up the hill again, their fangs bared and a low growl in their throats.

Bang!

Emma yelped and spun to the ground, her body landing on its side.

‘Emma!' I crawled over to her and at the same time screamed at Charlotte to run. But she wouldn't. She sniffed at Emma and raised her head to howl at the moon.

Emma was trembling, her hind leg a mess of bone, fur and blood.

‘You're okay, girl,' I lied, stroking her head and leaning my face into hers, whispering soothing words to calm her, my tears soaking into her fur.

‘If you promise not to run, we won't shoot,' shouted a booming, masculine voice from the top of the hill.

I froze. Charlotte howled for all she was worth.

‘Surrender or we shoot,' the voice repeated.

‘You've already shot my dingo!' I shouted, anger heating the blood in my veins.

‘Walk towards us with your hands up.'

For a moment I was stunned. Were they the police? Did law and order still exist in today's world?

Scooping Emma into my arms with care, holding her tight against my chest, and with Charlotte at my feet nearly tripping me up, I slowly started back up the hill, the harsh light from the vehicle making my eyes water. When I reached the peak, two men materialised from the darkness.

A scream tore from my throat, echoing across the moonlit valley. But as they moved closer, they clearly were not the blond-headed amazons from last night.

One of the men took a growling Emma out of my arms and the other grabbed a hold of both of my wrists, knocking the knife from my hands and yanking the slingshot from my back pocket.

Charlotte barked madly and another man, short, stocky and heavily built, walked up and pointed a handgun inches above the dingo's head and shot. ‘Get out of here!' he shouted and Charlotte spun, before looking back at me. Another shot cracked, echoing across the land. Charlotte flinched but stayed her ground.

‘Stupid animal!' he barked.

‘She's not stupid, she's protecting me!' I turned back to Charlotte. ‘Run! Now! Go!'

Tears streamed down my face as I watched her skulk towards me, then retreat until she edged further and further away, not wanting to leave me and Emma behind.

The man holding me tied my wrists together with an itchy rope. After that he crouched at my feet and bound my legs. As the rope tightened around my ankles, mashing bone against bone, I cried out.

‘You open your mouth like that again and I'll tie you up so tight the circulation will cut your feet off,' he said.

‘You have to save Emma, my dingo,' I pleaded.

The stocky man with the gun spun around and came at me with menacing eyes that glinted in the headlights, but another man, tall and thin with dark, hair greying at the sides, the one who had taken Emma from my arms, stepped between us.

‘Leave her alone, Barry, the boss wants this one
alive
.'

Barry, who looked to be the youngest of the group, stopped in his tracks and spat at my feet. ‘You're a dick, you know that Laurie? Round-ups used to be fun before you came along.'

The blond who'd bound my hands and feet stepped forward and punched Barry in the mouth, his head swinging to one side from the force. He didn't retaliate, just touched his mouth and licked the blood from his fingers before looking at me and grinning.

‘Well, that's one down…' he pumped his shotgun and threw me a wink, ‘…and one more to go.' He started down the hill, behind the idling vehicle, the black night swallowing him whole.

‘No, don't shoot him, please don't shoot him!' I shouted, silently praying that Patrick had gotten away.

‘If he's clean the boss will want him alive as well!' Laurie called after Barry.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever, arsehole,' Barry muttered from the darkness below.

Run, Patrick, please run.

I could only hope my diversion had given him enough time to get away, or at least hide somewhere safe.

‘Where are you taking me and my dog?' I ask Laurie, because he seemed to be in charge of the group.

‘To civilisation...or the closest thing to it,' he said, with a flat, emotionless chuckle. He looked about my mother's age, but his skin was bad, with pockmarks all over his cheeks.

The blond disappeared behind the vehicle and brought down the squeaky drop-side, opening the back tray.

‘Yeah, it's real civilised. You can go shopping with your girlfriends in town.'

I didn't respond. His sarcasm was too blatant and cruel to deserve a response.

Laurie shot him a glare before turning back to me.

‘Look, just keep your mouth closed, do as you're told and you'll come out alright in this. You're luckier than some of the other girls.'

The blond guy climbed up to the back of the tray and bent in a crouch, as though waiting. Laurie scooped me up into my arms. He was going to throw me onto the back of the car like a sack of potatoes.

I shook my head in protest and started to scream and buck my body, but because I was tied, the most I could do was attempt to headbutt Laurie. But he was too quick and within seconds I landed against the cold, metal surface of the utility tray, the blond man's hands catching me at my armpits so that my head didn't smack forward and break my nose.

I rolled onto my back, the star studded sky closing over on me like a comforting blanket. Mum was somewhere under those stars, and Sapphire and Patrick…hopefully safe.

A single shot rang out, making me jump.

Patrick
.

Stiff as a board I lay, barely breathing, listening for the reassuring sound of Patrick's voice, until a commotion in the distance, from somewhere behind the vehicle, where there was only blackness, met my ears.

‘Patrick!' I shouted, raising my head, blinking at the darkness.

He was
alive.
Swearing, shouting and struggling against the men. I couldn't see him but I could hear him.

One of the men cried out suddenly and then swore, as though someone had struck him. A sickening thud followed. I winced at the sound and fell back against the cold, metal tray, my heart a deafening boom inside my head.

‘I told you not to harm him,' Laurie shouted as the group drew nearer.

‘They're as heavy as effing cows when they're unconscious,' said the gravelly voice of Barry.

Unconscious, not dead
… I started to breath, slowly.

There was a low, guttural groaning sound and then the sound of something being dragged, before the men heaved and threw Patrick in like he was no more than a carcass from a hunt. He landed beside me with a heavy thud against the tray. If my hands hadn't have been tied I would have tried to soften his landing with my arms. The blond hadn't hung around to catch Patrick's fall like he'd done with me.

‘Boss is going to be pissed at you, Barry,' said Laurie, his tone low and serious. ‘You might get tossed into the Carrier shed.' The other man laughed.

‘He hit me first, almost knocked me out, the little shit.

‘You can't handle a bony kid? Maybe you should be demoted to light duties, hey? Like dusting the boss' daughter's tea set? Maybe you don't belong in the round-up team.'

I zoned out their conversation and focused my attentions on Patrick.

A slick of dark wetness on his forehead shone in the moonlight. I inched closer, using my elbows and hips. To stem the blood flow I pressed my cheek against the warm, bleeding wound. It was then I noticed that his glasses — Dad's glasses — were gone.

‘Patrick, wake up.' I wiggled down and nudged his chest with my chin but he didn't move. His heart was beating much slower than mine, which worried me. So I slid back up and continued to apply pressure to his wound.

The car lurched backwards, causing Patrick's head to loll the other way. Then the vehicle turned in the shape of a U before picking up speed, the engine slowing only to make a grinding sound a couple of times, before again speeding up.

I'd spent so many years fantasising about what it would be like to travel the land on four wheels, the landscape disappearing behind me, and here I was, actually doing it. Only there was nothing at all fantastic about Patrick lying next to me, unconscious and bleeding from the head, his little brothers starving to death and my mum not knowing where her only daughter was. She'd soon find out when Charlotte returned without Emma. Maybe she'd pack a bag full of shells and come after me and these men with a loaded shotgun in full warrior mode.

I'm so sorry, Mum,
I mentally whispered to the stars, before searching the tray for Emma.

I rolled over to check behind me and felt around with my tied feet, but she wasn't there. Had they left her behind, all alone, to bleed to death?

My backpack was also missing, along with it Jeffery C's picture, Dad's other glasses and the two baby birds. Had they been crushed to death in the scuffle? I winced just to think about it.

The vehicle rose and dipped over a large hump and my head fell back against the tray in a heavy thud, making my skull throb and my vision swim. My limbs ached from the restriction of being tied together. So this is what I'd gained during my twenty four hour adventure away from home. Not the freedom I'd hungered after, but the exact opposite and worse.

One thing baffled me, however. If these men were the same men who had chased me through the rain yesterday, then who were those two, tall, pale-skinned men I'd seen standing at the cave entrance last night? And what exactly did they want?

We drove for at least a couple of hours, mostly straight, but twice turning left and then right. One of the left turns were so sharp I rolled on top of Patrick, the back of my head connecting with his chin, and when they corrected and swung right, Patrick rolled into me with his dead weight, his skull smashing against my teeth.

Blood, tinny and salty, seeped from my lip. With my tongue I gently probed around to ensure all of my teeth were intact. Thankfully they were.

Patrick groaned and I wiggled my body closer until I was pressed up against him, the chill of his body making me convulse into shivers while I cradled his head with my neck. He opened his mouth, making incoherent noises, and I shushed him gently until his breathing became steady and I myself became hypnotised by the lull of the drive and fell asleep.

I woke up to a loud banging against the drop-sides. Blinking at the flashes of torchlight and the faint glow of nearby lights, I wriggled to my side and tried to nudge Patrick awake with my elbow.

‘Wake up!' shouted Barry, his lip swollen from the punch the blond had delivered.

Though his face was shadowed, an orange glow haloed him from behind. When I craned my neck to see, there was a large double gate with razor wire on the top. Two orange lights above the gate lit up several square metres of land and cast a dull light over some enormous sheds behind it.

‘Shut up, Baz. You've woken up the dogs. Now they'll stir the Carriers, the poor bastards,' said Laurie, his head shaking softly while he waited for Barry to unchain the gates.

‘Not that they'll get any sleep tonight, what with the shit that'll be pumped into them tomorrow.' The blond sucked on the end of what appeared to be a lit, rolled up leaf before releasing a thin, steady stream of smoke from his lips. He passed it to Laurie, who took a drag. ‘Man, even Carriers don't deserve to die like that, poor fuckers.'

The blond took one last drag and flicked the smoking leaf aside, its lit end dying like a shooting star as it hit the ground. He moved towards us and seized Patrick by his bare feet, before tugging hard. ‘Let's see what we got here, shall we?'

Patrick groaned, moving his head softy from side to side, his legs dangling from the tray.

‘Wake up, mate,' said Laurie, before bending forward and gently slapping at Patrick's cheeks.

‘Leave him alone,' I said, my throat hoarse from all the screaming I'd done hours ago. I put my mouth to his ear and whispered his name but, other than a soft moan, he failed to respond in the way I'd hoped. In his condition, even if untied, there'd be no chance of us outrunning these men and escaping.

The blond left Patrick for a moment and wrapped his big warm, meaty hands around my ankles before hauling me towards him, then lifting me by the waist to my feet. I wobbled, unsteady.

‘Let's get a closer look at you, love.'

Two men materialised from beneath the shadows of the monstrous-sized sheds and came to stand before me. One of them gripped my chin and tilted it up, forcing my eyes to meet his. His pale pink lips stretched into a thin smile, before he nodded.

‘Well done, boys. Take her directly to Luke's place,' he said with a nod, before letting me go, his eyes roving up and down Patrick's body.

‘What about this other one?'

‘Don't hurt him!' I shouted. Laurie and the blond winced at the shrillness of my cry.

‘Friggin' women,' muttered Barry, returning to the vehicle, an index finger in each ear. ‘I'd forgotten about the shrieking.'

Chains jangled in the dark, somewhere beside the biggest shed, followed by a cacophony of barking and snarling. It sounded as though one hundred hellhounds were straining at their leashes, ready to tear me to shreds.

I jumped and fell forward, tripping over my tied feet, but the blond caught me by my arm before I bit the dust.

‘What are they?' I cried, staring off at the barking darkness.

‘Don't worry, love, they can't hurt you. The mongrels are tied up.' He chortled. ‘But if you try to run, well, they won't be tied up anymore and they will hurt you. Let that be a warning to you and your brother.'