Leopard Dreaming (13 page)

‘Then why not call it Lockman Farms?’

‘It’s been in the family for three generations. Named after my grandfather, Stuart Freeman. He bred beef
cattle, and my sisters still manage a few hundred head. So the name stuck.’

‘Does that make your sisters Lockmans or Freemans?’

He hesitated in replying, which she took for reluctance.

‘Hey, sorry. I don’t mean to pry. That’s your personal life. I get it. You need to draw a line.’

‘No, it’s not that. It’s complicated. I don’t want you getting mixed up in a mess that’s decades old.’

Mira laughed. ‘That would make a refreshing change.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘So am I, Lieutenant. If not for me, my friends would be home free. And if you trusted me, you’d know your messy family secret is safe with me.’

She turned away, surprised to feel his hand return softly to her shoulder.

‘My father was a commando — into some heavy business overseas that followed him home a few times. He changed our names twice, trying to hide our identities under various witness protection programs. Then after he was discharged he told me I had to earn my own name, and I rebelled. So the first time I enlisted, I joined up under my mother’s maiden name, which was Locklin.’

‘The
first
time? You mean you’ve been discharged before?’

‘It’s not uncommon. Like a lot of young hotheads, I never had a chance to make peace with my father before he died. So when I finally grew up and went home for a time, I changed my name to honour his wish as well as his memory. The good times, at least, and the kind of man he wanted me to be. I merged Locklin and Freeman into Lockman.’

She heard him shuffle his feet anxiously.

‘And now you’re the only other person alive who knows that, aside from my sisters.’

Mira nodded, not really caring about those other
names. Instead, she wondered how he could possibly succeed in joining the army
twice
under different surnames without General Garland knowing. ‘Why go back to the army at all if you’d already been discharged?’

‘Like my father before me, I have anger management issues. Until I met you, the army offered the only constructive outlet and support. But I’d rather not discuss it here. I’m trying to put all that behind me now.’

‘Lucky you,’ she quipped. ‘At least Locklin and Lockman both start with L, so you got to keep Alpha Lima as your code name.’

‘Different general, different system first time round. So different code name too, and after bootcamp I spent most of my time as Locklin overseas in East Timor and Afghanistan.’

‘As a lieutenant? Sorry, forget I asked. It’s behind you now.’

He chuckled. ‘For the most part, I was only a lance corporal; with a different first name too, so if I
had
worked for Garland, my code name would have been Juliet —’

‘Oh, don’t tell me any more old names! I can’t get used to calling you Adam yet.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t, Mira. There is one thing I should probably —’

‘Hey, buddy! shouted the salesman. ‘You want six months rego with this or twelve?’

‘Make it twelve, mate, with comprehensive insurance. Here, I’ll give you the member cards so we can arrange a cover note and take it today.’

He left her briefly to arrange it, and she took the chance to check the nearest bike to see how well it lined up with yesterday’s after-image; a skinny off-road bike, which aligned perfectly and looked like a racehorse compared to some of the other fat ponies.

‘Which one’s the Blackbird?’ she asked as he came back to her.

‘They’ve unboxed a brand-spanker out in the workshop, but the showroom model is right over there, next row, front and centre. The black roadster with the racy gold trim.’

‘They’re all purple to me.’ Mira glanced over and breathed a sigh of relief. Such a squat little road scooter with a long seat, roomy enough for three. Very practical luggage racks front and back too. ‘Racing stripe seems a bit ambitious,’ she said, ‘except maybe around the lanes of a supermarket.’

Lockman chuckled. ‘I suspect that row has been rearranged since yesterday. See that poster, behind the counter? It’s the biggest one in the frame.’

A powerful motor roared to life somewhere in the rear of the store. Rubber squealed on concrete and an invisible rider accelerated toward her, then swung around to an abrupt halt right near her feet.

‘Sweet ride,’ said a young male voice, climbing off. ‘She’s all juiced, all tight and all yours. Roger will be out soon with the sign-over.’

Mira saw the ghostly image on the wall, and her heart plummeted. He’d bought the biggest, sleekest, fastest-looking steed in the store.

‘Oh, please no. I’m bad enough with
four
wheels under me.’

‘The train had more, which made it worse. So less must be best. Trust me. A little wind in your face and you’ll love it.’

‘Yeah, that’s what Ben promised about surfing, and you know what I’m like around water. Exactly how much have you spent? That monster looks expensive.’

‘Let me worry about that.’ He strapped his backpack onto the rear luggage rack, and asked for the pouch for Pockets.

‘She’s not luggage!’ Mira complained. ‘I’ll keep carrying her, thanks.’

‘Isn’t she getting heavy yet?’

‘I hardly notice her.’ She shrugged the shoulder strap a little higher towards her neck, making it even more comfortable.

‘Suit yourself, but if you change your mind, tap my helmet. We can stop any time.’

‘Hey, mate!’ called the salesman from his office. ‘Do you want this registered in your name, or Freeman Farms?’

‘Make it a business expense, and I’ll argue with the accountant later.’

‘Won’t that send trouble home to your sisters?’ Mira whispered. ‘What if Kitching discovers the purchase?’

‘Not likely. A business is as close to me as a neighbour. We’ll be easier to find by tonight than this transaction, and by the time my sisters notice the account tomorrow, this will be over and I’ll reimburse the farm with my own cash. Quit worrying,’ he added, and tugged her to a ghostly rack of leather jackets and trousers for ladies. ‘What colour leathers do you want? Today there’s black with pink trim or white with lavender.’

‘You’re kidding.’ She laughed. ‘What do I care about colours?’

‘In this heat, you’ll care plenty. I need my jacket to hide my shoulder holster, but for you I suggest the white and lavender.’

‘Fine, whatever. At least it’s only the weather dictating my options now.’

Lockman held something soft and thick against her chest, as if judging her for the size of a jacket, and selected a full set of safety gear to fit on over her sundress, making her feel more self-conscious than ever as he held up the trousers against her, and handed them over.

‘Try these boots once you’ve pulled up the pants.’

‘Here? In the middle of the store?’

‘I’m turning around.’

‘What about the other staff?’

‘They can’t see you through all the racks, and we’re the only customers in here, so trust me, nobody will see you.’

She huffed and slipped off her sandals first, while he sorted through a rack of boots for other options. Or so he said.

‘Are they concrete?’ she complained, when he handed her a knee-high pair. ‘Sandals are heavy enough after ten years in bare feet and slippers.’

‘Boots are mandatory, sorry. Unless you fancy your toes ripped off while we’re cornering.’

‘Lovely. Did I mention how much I’m looking forward to this?’

‘Not yet.’ He offered her a pair of socks too, but she turned them down.

‘I’d rather feel my feet as well as I can, sweating or not. It’s hard enough coordinating invisible legs without having my feet padded up as well.’

‘Suit yourself.’ He fitted a snug helmet on over her head, without removing her hues first. ‘Now you’ll be invisible out there.’

‘I’m invisible now.’ Head to toe in leather, she also felt smothered. ‘Fold my arms and buckle me up tight and it’s a full-body straitjacket.’

‘Comfy, though, right?’ He patted her helmet, making it thud, and slipped a small cube of plastic into her hand. ‘Try the keyless remote.’

One touch of her finger on the button, and the engine revved back to life, startling her.

Lockman caught her by the elbow, and turned her sideways, as if preparing to lift her aboard.

‘Oh, no!’ She backed up a step, shrugging the joey’s pouch back onto her shoulder. ‘You first. If I fall, I’m taking you with me.’

‘You won’t fall,’ Roger said as he returned to them. Mira heard scribbling, page flipping and more scribbling, repeatedly, while the salesman instructed Lockman on the fine print to the final batch of paperwork. ‘Everyone has trouble finding the foot pegs and grab bars the first time,’ Roger said when they were done in barely a few minutes. ‘May I?’ he added, but before she could figure out what he meant, he swept her up and piled her on just as Lockman climbed aboard, then helped her again by guiding her boots into place on the pegs.

‘Hey, hands off the merchandise,’ Lockman warned him.

‘You nearly squashed my bag,’ Mira added in complaint.

‘Hey, I wasn’t getting fresh,’ argued the salesman. ‘I’m married. My wife would recommend that you cuddle up by the way.’

‘Comfortable?’ asked a voice inside her helmet.

Startled, she smacked the side of it.

‘Mira?’ Lockman asked. She heard him zip up his jacket.

‘Oh, it’s you. I thought I was hearing voices now too.’

He laughed, with his voice seemingly inside her head now. ‘We’ve got an intercom between the helmets. Now put your arms around my waist, like he said, and hold on.’

She touched his sides timidly, until he repositioned her hands, pulling her chest snugly against his back and locking her fingers together in front him. Far too intimate for her. She recoiled and set much lighter hands on his sides.

‘Don’t be shy,’ he said, readjusting his jacket zip. ‘First time is always the scariest.’

She leaned sideways a little to scratch her leather-clad knee, and felt the whole bike move. ‘I am going to die.’

‘You’ll be fine. Just lean when I do, and let me control the balance for both of us.’

Clamping her eyes shut instead, she leaned a little harder against him, fearing the wind would blow her off over the back. As her helmet brushed his shoulder, her visor popped up and she realised it must be clear, because it didn’t seem to change the shade of time she could see.

Her cheek touched his back unexpectedly, and she noticed the skin of his jacket seemed much warmer than hers. Black, she guessed, or dark brown. As sensitive as her fingertips could be, most days, she’d never been able to distinguish between the energy of such similar shades.

The bike straightened beneath her, and in reflex, her hands snapped from his sides to around his stomach. She discovered he’d unzipped his jacket all the way down the front, so as she gripped him, her hands splayed across his hard stomach, making her intensely more aware of his every movement.

His boot clicked something as she nudged her visor back down, and they moved off gently. She squealed in terror anyway. Until he changed gears, veered out onto the main road and into the fast lane, where she soon noticed an unexpected benefit. Aside from the breeze that tickled up inside her helmet, she soon learned which way he’d be turning, braking or accelerating by the smallest of his muscle movements. Only four city blocks and she could relax a little.

‘Different to driving?’ he asked.

She nodded, hardly believing how much more she liked it. Totally thrilling. ‘I can tell what you’re going to do before you do it. Makes me feel like I’m part of it, you know? The ride, the wind. In control, just a little.’

‘You are, actually. Lean far enough one way or the other, and we’ll both turn that way.’

She jerked to the left to test what he meant, and felt
the Blackbird shift balance too, but he moved almost instantly to compensate.

‘Hey, don’t muck around back there. You really can take us both down if you choose.’

‘Sorry!’ She flushed hot, feeling stupid. ‘I scared myself too, but … it’s exhilarating!’ Keeping her arms around his waist, but lighter now, she spread her hands higher and lower around his chest and discovered she could now also feel and anticipate a lot more of his movements. ‘Go faster!’ she pleaded. ‘The wind is so brilliant! It’s like freedom!’

‘Already? Are you sure?’

She opened her eyes in time to pass through a grain truck. ‘Oh, yes! It makes the bad bits go faster.’

He chuckled, then sped up onto the freeway. ‘Hang on then. I’m going to hit the throttle and drop a keg of fuel out the tailpipe.’

‘Oh, yay!’ she squealed, as the bike reared and raced faster. ‘I’m flying!’

He stayed in the fastest lane, which also kept her free from the heaviest traffic, and she revelled in every second, surprising herself. Until she spotted the ghostly turnoff ahead to the island ferries and he veered for it.

‘Wait!’ She patted his chest rapidly to ensure she had his attention. ‘We have all day. Would you mind if I changed my mind to accommodate a detour for a few hours? Not messing around or wasting time. I just had an idea and I’m feeling fearless enough now to try it.’

‘I don’t know. I guess it depends on the risk factor.’

‘Involving a U-turn? I think I need to go back a bit.’

‘To the alley?’

‘To Serenity.’

He slewed off the exit and braked to a halt on the verge. ‘Are you kidding me? After ten years trying to escape that place?’

‘Actually, I wasn’t at Serenity the whole time. Mostly other places, much worse.’

‘How does that change anything? I heard what you went through before Maddy Sanchez took the helm there. They used taser gloves and electro-shock treatment as daily disciplinary measures.’

‘Irrelevant now. Name me a better place to pick up Maddy’s trail. And you have to admit, it’s the very last place in the world that anyone would think to look for me.’

‘Can’t argue with that,’ he said, finally. ‘Buckle up, sweetheart. Serenity it is.’

Kitching shook the Braille manuscript at his brother, unable to read it himself. ‘You predicted all this weeks ago?’