Run Beautiful Run, page 23
‘Hey …’ Joe pulled her close, holding her against his chest. ‘It’s a lot to deal with on your own.’
‘You’re telling me.’ With the heel of her palm, she desperately tried to brush away the tears.
‘What do you say we disappear for a few hours?’
‘And go where?’
‘It’s warming up out there, let’s take the ute and drive to the falls?’
‘The ones at Mount Elleron?’
‘Yeah, they seemed to do you the world of good last time.’
‘That place is spectacular.’
‘So is the company,’ he said with a cheeky wink. ‘Come on, step away from that computer and clear your head for a bit, then we’ll tackle this thing together.’
Together? ‘Listen Joe, we, you and me, with what’s going on over my uncle—’
‘Hey.’ He pressed a finger to her lips. ‘You’ve missed your chance to fly out of here today, so you’re still a guest for another week. And I’m not interested in hanging around for the next mob of tourists to arrive. I think we both deserve a cold beer on a hot day while swimming in a private remote location.’ With his hand on her hip, he pulled her close to his chest to nuzzle her ear. ‘And I can show you what I wanted to do to you the first time I took you out there.’
‘What about your work? And it’s going to rain.’
He chuckled. ‘We’re going swimming—we’ll be getting wet, anyway. And I’m not taking no for an answer.’
Maddison squealed with laughter as Joe scooped her up and carried her out the door.
Forty-three
The small light airplane circled above the Elleron Downs red dirt runway. Eric sat at the right rear of the plane, gripping a fresh spew bag, having lost his lunch an hour into the flight from the bumpy turbulence and shifting monsoonal storms. ‘I hate these little planes.’
‘I don’t mind them.’ Tom sat opposite, staring out the window while chewing on another lolly like a cow. ‘Hey, did you know this was the same type of plane that crashed the other week? I wonder where it went down?’
‘Will you shut up!’
‘Man, that must’ve been a plane ride from hell, huh? Can you imagine it? That little plane being tossed around in all of them storms. The turbulence sending it up and down,’ Tom swung his body as he spoke, ‘and side to side.’
Eric hurled into the bag.
Tom laughed.
Arsehole.
‘We’re coming in to land now,’ said the pilot, busily flicking dials in the cockpit.
‘No worries, mate.’ Tom gave a thumbs up.
‘Is your friend okay?’
Not my friend. Eric couldn’t speak but only glared at the Neanderthal.
‘I reckon he’ll be one of those people who’ll play Pope and kiss the ground when he gets off the plane.’ Tom gave a cheesy grin.
If Eric weren’t so sick, he’d wipe Tom’s smug smile off with the back of his hand.
‘Want a lolly? They’re mint green ones.’ Tom held out a green jelly to Eric. ‘Mind you, they’re a bit warm and they’ve gone all soft and gooey. Do they remind you of anything?’
The horrid green squashed monstrosity in Tom’s large hand, made Eric press the spew bag over his mouth to dry retch. He had nothing left, only his stomach lining.
Tom chucked the lolly into his big fat gob. ‘I didn’t realise this place was so big. I reckon it’s ten times the size of Adelaide. Did you know South Australia is Australia’s driest state suffering with drought? You’d think they’d work out a way to ship all that surplus ground water down south.’
Eric didn’t care if they landed on Mars, as long as it was land and soon.
The small plane made its descent, then bumped along the small dirt airstrip. It taxied toward a group of people waiting under a small tin lean-to, and when the engines switched off there was blissful silence.
Made it. Eric sat back in his chair and sighed.
‘I’m really looking forward to this.’ Tom unclipped his seat belt and scooped up his brand new ten-gallon cowboy hat. He tucked his flannelette cowboy shirt into his new Wranglers, then bent over to dust off his new American cowboy boots, momentarily blocking the shine from his fake rodeo belt buckle. ‘How do I look?’
Were they trapped in a nightmarish episode of the Flintstones gone cowboy?
‘I can’t believe you went and bought all that bloody cowboy crap,’ said Eric.
‘Mate, I’m livin’ the dream. See?’ The caveman had gone cowboy with his boof head at a crooked angle, as he was too tall for the plane.
While the pilot got busy outside, Eric clambered out of his seat. ‘Do you remember what my name is?’
‘Christian,’ replied Tom. ‘Are you part of the catholic denomination or one of them hand-clapping Mormons?’
‘Go to hell, ya moron.’
‘Nah, I didn’t peg you for a choir boy.’ Tom chuckled, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder.
Eric was surprised Tom didn’t carry a set of saddlebags.
‘What’s the plan, Christian?’
‘We’ve got four days until the plane returns.’
‘Can we call anyone?’
‘No. We don’t want them to trace the calls or know who we are.’ Eric slid his overnight bag over his shoulder, and faced his partner. ‘That’s the plan. Find the girl and get the gear. Simple.’
‘Righto.’
Eric winced at the bright sunlight as a whopping wave of heavy heat washed over him as if he’d stepped into a sauna. He didn’t care; he was back on land, aiming for the shady trees.
‘Welcome to Elleron Downs. I’m Earl Charter and this is my wife Glenda, and we’ll be your hosts for the week with our boys.’ Earl spoke in a well-rehearsed speech.
Boys? ‘I’m Christian and that’s Jonathon.’ Eric shook the couple’s hands. These Aussie rednecks looked simple enough with their deep tans, dust-stained jeans and worn boots. They were old, with a couple of boys, and no threat to Eric and his plans.
Tom stumbled down the plane’s steps like a newborn calf only to walk bandy legged like some spaghetti western movie hero, going for a quick draw showdown at high noon. ‘G’day.’
‘My word, you’re a big man.’ Glenda craned her neck back at Tom, so much taller with that bucket on his head he called a hat. ‘New hat, eh, Jonathon?’
‘I bought it for the occasion, see.’ Tom tipped his hat at her. ‘Please, call me Tom.’
Idiot. Eric glared at the freak playing dress-up.
‘Tom’s me nickname, see, I only get called Jonathon when I’m in trouble.’
‘Tom, eh?’ Earl squinted his wary eyes.
‘I’ve had it since I was a kid. My nan called me that after the movie Tom Thumb on account of me big thumbs. See?’ Tom showed them his large thumbs that made both Glenda and Earl nod.
‘Your nan sounds like a nice lady,’ said Glenda.
‘She was. I brought her out here, well up in Darwin, a few years ago, see, and that was her last trip before she died.’
‘Well, I’m sure she’s watching over you, dear.’
‘You think so? Nan was a good ol’ stick. I reckon she’d love being out here. I’ve always wanted to see a cattle station.’ Tom’s boof head whirled around to take in the view of nothing but a dirt airstrip, a crappy plane, and a mud-covered four-wheel drive.
‘Let’s get you blokes into the troopie and we’ll head back to the homestead, eh.’ Earl hurled the luggage into the back of his vehicle. The other couple were climbing into the plane with the pilot preparing for departure.
‘Will you shut up?’ Eric said to Tom through clenched teeth.
‘Why?’
‘You sound like a bloody yapping tourist. And the way you’re dressed, come on.’ Eric waved his hand at the oversized man-boy playing cowboy. It was embarrassing.
‘You said we’re to act like tourists on holidays and that’s what I’m doing, see. You know, that Glenda reminds me of me nan.’
‘I don’t give a flying toss!’
‘Good to see you’ve recovered from your flight there, Christian.’ Tom laughed as his boots clomped behind Eric.
‘Hey, Earl, Glenda,’ said Tom, taking his seat in the troop carrier, right behind the couple. ‘No doubt you get the usual three hundred and thirty questions from people. How about you tell me about the place?’
Eric glowered behind his sunglasses, his shirt sticking to his clammy skin, as he slunk down into the back seat of their vehicle. The scenery was nothing but foreign spindly trees and red dirt.
He blocked out Earl’s regurgitated speech. Eric didn’t care about the owners or anyone else, just one little woman.
With the taste of triumph rising in his chest, he was safe on land, and had four fun-filled days to find his answers. It was payback time.
Forty-four
Through the pouring rain, Joe steered his ute over the muddy terrain to park beside the house. ‘I’ll drop you off here and park the ute in the shed,’ he said to Maddison, seated in the passenger seat.
‘Thank you again for another amazing afternoon.’ She reached over and kissed his cheek.
‘My pleasure.’ He was pleased to see the fear gone from her eyes. ‘Could do with a hot shower. You?’
‘I’m way ahead of you.’ With a laugh, she dashed through the rain.
‘I might come and scrub your back,’ Joe called out through the driver’s window. Her tinkling laughter matched her wide smile. It only made him smile with her.
He drove into the shed where Greg was refuelling their quads. ‘Are you getting ready for the tourists, huh?’
He hated the way strangers would use and abuse their equipment. Nothing was their own anymore.
Still, he shouldn’t complain. The tourists paid the bills, and Maddison was one of them—although her reasons for visiting were completely different.
Joe’s lips curled into the hint of a smile. He enjoyed teaching her the everyday things he took for granted, watching her confidence grow as she rode his quad bike. Today, he’d shown her how to shoot using the rifle he kept in the ute. Most of all he enjoyed watching her, the soft look when she’d first wake, or when they’d made love. Her openness and how she looked at everything in awe made him feel proud of who he was and where he lived.
‘You can fill my ute too, Greg. I’m running a bit low.’ He was keen to go share a shower.
‘Sure, not! Your ute, your fuel.’ Greg put the fuel cap on the bikes and returned the fuel drum to the rack. ‘So how was your afternoon?’
‘Good.’ Damned good! The passion from one little lady was amazing.
He grabbed the esky from his ute that had been a part of their picnic. Yes, he was now doing picnics. If anyone had told him he’d be picking flowers, going for sunset walks or picnics, he’d tell them to nick-off. But it made the little lady smile.
‘Did you meet the new guests?’ Joe asked Greg.
‘Oh yeah.’
‘What are they like?’
‘The usual. New hat, jeans, and boots, playing wannabe cowboy. The tall bloke likes being called Tom from these massive thumbs he has. He seems okay, happy hanging with Mum.’
‘Mum’s feeding them, huh?’
‘Yep. But he’s real tall and got this shiny bald head. I reckon he shaves it.’
‘What did you say?’ Joe dropped the esky and grabbed his brother’s shirt. ‘Tall man, shaved head?’
‘Yeah.’
‘The other guy, is he short with hair swept back like Elvis?’
‘Who?’
‘A lion’s mane.’
‘How did you know?’
‘Dammit.’ Fear kicked a surge of adrenalin through his spine as his guts churned hot concrete. ‘Where are they now?’ Joe grabbed his rifle from behind the seat of his ute.
‘Why? What’s wrong?’
Joe loaded up his rifle and shoved handfuls of bullets into the pockets of his jeans. ‘Where are they?’
‘With Mum and Dad in the kitchen.’ Greg gripped his brother’s arm. ‘What’s going on, Joe?’
‘Those two men have been chasing Maddison around the country, and they’re armed and dangerous. We need to make sure Mum and Dad are okay. I want you to go into the kitchen and check it out. I’ll come in from the other side.’ And he prayed Maddison was safe in her room.
‘But—’
‘Just do it. Mum and Dad are in danger.’
Forty-five
The rain spilled off the roof like a shimmering satin curtain, cooling the day’s heat and pooling over the lawn. Hope and happiness brought a spring to Maddison’s step all because of Joe. He pleased her on so many levels, from tenderly treating her like a lady, making love to her, to then teaching her how to shoot a rifle. She was clumsy and missed their targets and the noise was a shock. But he gently supported her, giving her the right form of encouragement, unlike anyone.
She strolled down the wide verandah to the double glass doors of her room. Inside, she grabbed the towel from her freshly made bed.
She paused at the bathroom with its door open, lights on, but her red leather handbag sat on the floor tiles with its mouth open wide. Empty.
The rolls of money filled the sink, and her make-up was everywhere. Tubes of creams were emptied. The facial wipes torn from their packages. Her tube of lipstick smashed, and her hairbrush broken in half. Someone had ransacked her toiletries just like her apartment.
‘Oh, no.’ Maddison walked backwards to the glass doors, her eyes widening as the door handle from the hallway shifted.
She froze on the other side of the room. It was Goon One.
‘Hello, Maddison. My name is Eric. After chasing you through three states, it’s so nice to make your acquaintance.’ Eric grinned at her like an evil Cheshire cat.
The air crackled between them as the rain poured on the roof. The sounds of laughter floated down the hallway, along with the smells of a roast cooking. Sounds and scents that once brought her comfort in a scene that now terrorised her.
In the blink of an eye, she bolted out the double doors. Throwing them shut behind her, she ran blindly into the rain as fast as her legs could carry her.
‘Come back here, Maddison.’ Eric flung open the doors hard against the wall, their glass panelling shattering in an almighty crash.
BANG was the gunshot.
Maddison screamed as she flinched and ducked but kept running like a jackrabbit being hunted by a fox, through the torrential rain and across the wet muddy grass. Her nightmare was real.
Forty-six
‘Mum, Dad, are you okay?’ In muddy boots, Greg skidded across the floor from the kitchen doorway, he was forced to grab the kitchen bench to stop himself from falling.
‘Watch yourself, son,’ said Earl, seated at the kitchen table with that big man.
‘Greg, you know better. Why didn’t you take your muddy boots off before coming inside?’ scolded Glenda. ‘How many times have I told you—’
‘Come back here, Maddison.’
There was a horrific sound of smashing glass.
BANG.
Everyone in the kitchen flinched.
‘That was a gunshot,’ said Earl.
‘Eric?’ Tom jumped to his feet, knocking his chair backwards to the floor. He ran for the hallway, pushing past Greg, but Tom’s fancy cowboy boots slipped on the wet floor tiles and he lost his balance. He fell on his side. Slammed into the kitchen wall, landing on his chest with arms and legs splayed out like a newborn calf that had yet to learn how to walk.
‘I thought his name was Christian?’ Glenda asked, still seated at the table beside Earl.
Joe burst through the back screen door. ‘Don’t move, arsehole.’ Hatred dripped from each word, while he aimed his fully loaded rifle at Tom.
‘Hey, I’m not here to hurt you lot, I swear it.’ Spread-eagled on his stomach, Tom held out his hands in front with fingers and big thumbs spread wide in surrender.
‘Greg, get the slip ties from the pantry.’ Joe pressed the rifle’s muzzle into the back of Tom’s shaved head. He wasn’t playing games.
Greg ran past the kitchen table to the large pantry that was a part-time toolshed.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ Earl demanded, with Glenda beside him.
Joe shook his head at his dad, then glared at Tom on the floor. ‘Hands behind your back, arsehole.’
‘Okay, mate, I’m doing it. See …’
Greg soon returned.
‘Tie him up like you’re going to brand a feral cleanskin,’ ordered Joe.
Greg tied Tom’s hands behind his back and then at the ankles. ‘How’s that?’
‘Here …’ Joe handed the rifle to Greg. ‘If he moves shoot him, and I don’t care where.’
‘Look, fellas, I’m cooperating. See?’
Joe checked the ties were secure, then rolled Tom over to his side. He roughly patted down Tom’s shirt and found the handgun and wallet. ‘Melvin Thomas,’ Joe read from the Victorian driver’s licence found inside the leather wallet. He chucked it onto the table. He then checked the handgun for ammunition, tucked it in his belt and grabbed the rifle back from Greg to poke the tip against Tom’s cheek. ‘Where’s your mate?’
‘What the HELL is going on?’ Earl demanded with flushed cheeks. ‘Why is our guest tied up on our kitchen floor like a backwards steer at a rodeo?’
‘These men are here to hurt Maddison,’ said Joe, scowling at Tom.
‘Hey, only cops and criminals carry handguns,’ blurted out Greg, pointing to the wallet, ‘And he lied about his name.’
‘Get the other shotgun, Greg.’ His brother ran off. His parents stared on in shock while his baby brother tried to be brave. ‘You okay, Mum, Dad?’
‘Ah, yeah, we’re fine’ replied Earl, scratching his grey hair. ‘You?’
‘I will be once I find Maddison. Come on, Greg.’ He would not leave his parents unarmed with this cretin on their kitchen floor. The seconds felt like hours as the rain hammered from the sky and the sweat trickled down his face.
