February (19 page)

I hobbled out of the entrance and onto the road within a group of senior kids from a rural school. I pretended to be part of the group, walking close to them, cowering beneath their happy chatter and teasing. No-one challenged me in my dark green jacket, or saw the pain of my leg on my face, although I got some stares because of my oversized gumboots. I kept scanning around for Red Singlet but couldn’t see him.

My leg was throbbing and every step killed me. Would Jennifer ever trust me again? If I’d been alone, I probably would have fallen to the floor and bawled with pain and frustration.

Hidden out in some bushland near the zoo, I raised my leg to stop the bleeding, and tried to rest and recover a little before finally wrapping it as best I could with a ripped-up shirt.

I peered out from my hiding place and saw that police had gathered over by the zoo entrance, which was now cordoned off with tape.

At least I was on this side of the tape.

I had no choice but to suck up the pain, look as above suspicion as possible, and join the short queue of people waiting for the last bus back to the city.

The rumbling of a helicopter thundered through the sky as the bus pulled away from the zoo, freeing me, for now, from capture.

I quickly filled out a form, with a fake name, of course. Tom—for my dad, and Mitchell—the name of the first dog we had when I was little.

Maybe I was stupid to think that I could walk off the street and into a public hospital, but I felt far enough away from the attack at the zoo to be safe. Safe enough.

Or maybe it was because I’d lost a lot of blood and was light-headed. Too light-headed to think properly?

The bleeding had finally eased when I was called shortly after signing in by a doctor whose jeans I could see under the short white jacket she was wearing.

I sat up on one of the examination tables, while she cleaned out my wound, and gave me a shot of painkiller and stitched the injury. I noticed how she kept looking at the wound and frowning.

She went about her work in silence until it came time to give me another injection.

‘Tell me again,’ she said, ‘about the big black dog.’

‘Is that for rabies?’ I asked wincing at the sting.

‘No,’ she said. ‘There’s no rabies in Australia at the moment but animal bites can turn septic. Anyway, don’t worry about that, just tell me more about that dog.’

I repeated my story of the big black dog. Except this time I made the story a bit more interesting adding in a soccer ball I was kicking.

‘You were kicking a soccer ball in those gumboots?’

‘Stupid, hey?’ I replied. So stupid …
Surely I could have come up with a more believable story.

She secured the bandages with a clip and straightened up. ‘You’ll need to keep this dry. No baths or showers for the next three days.’

I assured her that wouldn’t be a problem.

‘These bandages will need changing in a day or two. I’ll give you a letter for your GP.’

I nodded as she wrote up the GP’s letter. Through the open doorway I saw a doctor on a phone, looking around quite tensely. He gestured to someone, and before I knew it, hospital security had approached him. The police must have contacted them about me. I had to get out.

I stood up to leave as the doctor called me back.

‘Tom,’ she said, and I almost didn’t respond at the unfamiliar name. ‘I worked in Kenya for
Médecins
sans Frontières
. I’ve seen those injuries before. That’s not a dog’s bite. Only the claws of a big cat make marks like that.’

‘It wasn’t a cat, it was a dog.’

‘I’m not talking
domestic
cat.’

There was a silence while we stared at each other.

‘Gotta go. Thanks,’ I said, hurrying out of casualty and right past the doctor that had been talking to security.

I wandered around aimlessly in the dark, far from the hospital, my body aching with loneliness. It was more painful than my stitched-up leg. I thought again of the lion and his massive eyes, the way they stared coldly into mine … before he reached out and tore my leg open.

I saw something in those eyes that made me uneasy. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would eventually crack and live up to the ‘psycho kid’ tag I’d been given. I was afraid that being trapped and isolated could do it. Maybe sooner rather than later.

I noticed a public phone across the street and was instantly drawn to it. I hobbled over to it and dialled Rafe’s number. I couldn’t use my mobile for fear of being traced.

‘Hello?’ came Rafe’s voice down the crackly line.

I thought of him on the other end, with my dad’s face.

‘Who is this?’ he said. ‘Is that you, Cal?’ he asked, his voice quickly warming. ‘Look son, please come home. Your mother needs you. We all need you.’ He paused for a moment, waiting for me to say something, but I just couldn’t.

‘Are you still there?’ he asked again. ‘Say something, please?’

‘Hi,’ I finally whispered. It was all I could muster.

‘Cal! You’re OK! Please come home.’

‘Cal?’ he said again after a long silence.

‘Who is it?’ I heard Mum ask Rafe softly in the background.

But I’d hung up before anyone had a chance to say anything more.

There was no way I’d hear from Jennifer again, I convinced myself. I’d been hoping she’d call me, ever since I left the zoo. Give me a chance to
explain myself. Arrange to meet somewhere else, tonight. But who was I kidding? If she was going to call she would have done it by now. I’d have to go back to St Johns and rest up.

My mobile rang just as I’d given up on Jennifer Smith. I hoped it would be her. Or Boges.

‘Cal, it’s me. I have to see you.’

It was Winter. I imagined her with her dark, floaty hair and wondered where she was calling from.

‘Hi,’ I said, my image of her dark, floaty hair quickly transforming into the image of her creeping around Sligo’s car yard, stealing car parts. Was she fooling me, like she was fooling Sligo? Somehow, even in my uncertainty, my miserable mood lessened at the sound of her voice.

‘I was thinking we could meet up at the Hibiscus Café. It’s open pretty late. We could have a quick chat and a smoothie or something?’

‘You know my situation,’ I said, not wanting to say too much on the phone, ‘money-wise.’

‘Listen,’ she said, ‘You supply the company. I’ll supply the cash. OK?’ Then she giggled. ‘That’s not quite true. Sligo will supply the cash—although he doesn’t know it.’

I smiled on hearing her giggle, but stopped myself.

‘I saw you,’ I blurted out, ‘when you were in Sligo’s car yard. You were crawling around looking into the cars and under the tarpaulins.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘The car yard. The other day. I came to look for you, and I saw you there sneaking around.’

‘You’re wrong, Cal,’ she said. ‘Why would
I
have to sneak around Sligo’s?’

Forget the cute giggle, I told myself. Remember Sligo. This girl hangs round with Sligo. This girl tells lies.

‘Anyway,’ she continued, back to her earlier, friendly tone. ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something really important. Something very dangerous.’

‘What is it?’

‘I’ll tell you when I see you. Where are you now?’

‘I’m not that far from the Hibiscus Café. I’m just outside the—’ I stopped. What the hell was I doing? Telling Winter Frey where I was? For all I knew, Red Singlet might have been standing right beside her, taking down notes.

‘Never mind,’ I said, thinking fast. I
did
want to see her. But I’d have to arrange some place to meet where I could set myself up earlier—somewhere I could check out her arrival, and see whether she’d come alone. Or not.

I thought of the clock tower near Liberty Square as the perfect spot for me to watch her. It had a great view of the east side of the mall where there was another café that I knew would be open.

‘What about meeting at the Blue Note at ten?’ I said. ‘Hello?’ I said, puzzled, when she didn’t respond. The line must have dropped out. She was gone. I looked for her number to call back when the screeching of tyres made me jump.

A black Subaru had screamed to a halt, mounting the footpath only metres behind me! Red Singlet was already halfway out of the driver’s seat!