Wild Dogs, page 18
‘Roadhouse owner. It’s not exactly busy around here these days. He’ll come out for a chat for sure.’
Amin finished gulping down two more antibiotic pills, tucked the tablets back in his pocket and waved his empty drink bottle at Gabe. ‘If you think that is the best thing, that is what we will do. Do you have any more water?’
‘Grab the last one out of the Engel and I’ll get some more from the store. There’s plenty of Coke in there though.’
‘And a feed too, hey?’ Darren suggested. ‘Getting shot at works up the appetite.’
‘Don’t suppose any of you brought your wallets?’
Courtney gave him a wry smile. ‘Sorry. Slipped my mind as we left.’
‘Looks like I’m paying, then,’ Gabe said. ‘That’d be bloody right.’
‘Won’t that policeman be able to track your card?’
‘I’ll use cash.’
Courtney raised her eyebrows. ‘A full tank of diesel at outback prices? Do you always carry that much cash around the bush?’
She saw Darren give him a quick look, then avert his eyes, as though they knew something she didn’t.
‘Call me old-fashioned,’ Gabe growled, a little too defensively. ‘All very well using cards for everything, but out here cash is king when the power goes out.’
‘Lucky for us,’ Courtney said. ‘I’m going to go for a walk to stretch these poor legs of mine. Come with, Darren?’
Darren didn’t look as though he felt like walking, but joined her nonetheless. They left Gabe and Amin under the tree and set off across the lawn. It was ridiculously hot; even the green grass radiated heat up at them, but she didn’t care. She needed to work some blood into her legs and clear her head. Beside her, Darren trudged along, hands in his pockets.
‘How you holding up?’ she asked. ‘That taser must’ve really hurt.’
‘Sore,’ Darren admitted. ‘Achey, like I’ve had a bad cramp all over. I’ll be alright though.’ He stopped and looked around. Gabe had just driven off, heading for the roadhouse. ‘But honestly, I’m shitting myself.’
‘Me too.’
At this admission, Darren seemed to relax a little. ‘Whole thing’s nuts. But I dunno what else we can do except go along. We tried getting out of it earlier and look what happened.’
‘True,’ Courtney said. ‘Are we really going to do this though? We don’t even know Amin, and I only just met Gabe yesterday. There’s something he’s not telling us.’
Darren said nothing, as if unsure how to reply, so she continued. ‘And Amin, I mean, I get why he doesn’t want the police involved, but surely they can’t all be bad. Isn’t there a big station in Carnarvon? We could ask to see the captain, or superintendent, or whoever it is in charge.’
‘We could,’ Darren said slowly. ‘But I’m with Amin on this one.’
‘You don’t trust the police either?’
‘It’s not that simple.’ He stared up at the sky, then back at her. ‘Look, what if everything Amin says is bang-on true. That’s huge. It means people have buggered up big time, and when that happens cops protect their own. Even if it’s only that little prick who’s bent, how keen d’you reckon his bosses will be to say they didn’t know smugglers were operating right under their noses with one of their own helping?’
‘Even so,’ Courtney said, a sinking feeling starting to well in her gut, ‘they can’t sweep it under the carpet.’
Darren laughed. ‘They can bloody try, wouldn’t be the first time. Nah, I like your first idea better – go straight to the media, but we can’t do that until his wife and kid are safe.’
They reached the end of the grass and sat under another smaller white gum. Courtney leaned against the smooth trunk and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the flies determined to find their way into them. ‘So we’re doing this?’
‘Reckon so.’
She sighed. Three months ago, when she had applied for the position of Remote Area Nurse, she knew there would be challenges and unexpected adventures, but this was far beyond what she could have ever imagined.
THIRTY-THREE
Gabe watched Courtney and Darren walk across the park, then turned back to his ute and found Amin eyeing him cautiously.
‘You are the one bringing in the alcohol,’ he said. ‘That is how you know Darren and why you have that money in the glove compartment.’
It wasn’t a question, and Gabe didn’t bother with a denial. ‘So? What of it?’
‘I don’t know enough to judge, but I think this would not be in your favour if others found out.’
‘It’d cost me a pretty penny,’ Gabe admitted. ‘And I wouldn’t be travelling through Jakob’s River anytime soon.’
‘Then why?’
‘Seemed like a good idea at the time.’
‘And now?’
‘I dunno. Mate of mine asked, and I helped him out.’ His hand went to the scar at his temple. ‘I owe him.’
‘You don’t think there might be consequences?’
‘Don’t give two shits about consequences,’ Gabe retorted. ‘World’s already fucked, and I’m done with it. Bad shit happens. If I didn’t bring the grog in, someone else would, so might as well be me pocketing the cash. Anyway, if I hadn’t been camped up overnight waiting for the boys, I would’ve been long gone by the time your little party started.’
‘And I am grateful, though I think perhaps our young nurse might not look on you so favourably. After all, she was the one dealing with the fallout.’
Gabe said nothing, returning to his ute and leaving the man sitting under the gum. But he couldn’t help but ponder over Amin’s words. What fallout? Courtney said she had been busy, but never specified. Darren had obviously gone tits up at some stage of the night. Nothing unusual there, he’d been guilty of that himself a few times. And Bobby said the real problem drinkers had left pretty early on in the piece, gone on to Gero or Carnarvon, where the booze flowed freely. Or was that just something he said to keep Gabe happy?
Gabe didn’t know, and to be honest he didn’t care. That wasn’t his problem. In all his years, he’d never raised much ruckus as a drinker. A few brawls as a young bloke, but nothing wild. And later, after he had found Valerie, the idea of any violence towards her was unfathomable. Truth be told, had he done such a thing, he had no doubt she would’ve left him the next day, possibly even used his skinning knife to render him cockless. No, if somebody caused problems on the grog, that was their own fault, not his.
He drove around the corner and pulled up at the bowser. As expected, his was the only vehicle, and he didn’t think that would change anytime soon. The summer heat kept any tourists away, and even the locals were wise enough not to venture from their air conditioning if it could be helped. He pumped the diesel, wincing as he watched the litre counter tick over ever so slowly compared to the dollar one. There was a time when it used to be the other way around. Back when things were simpler. Easier. Happier.
‘Back again?’ a voice called. As he’d guessed, Graham Jones had come out for a look, though somewhat reluctantly. That’s the trouble with air conditioning; spend too long in it and stepping outside becomes even harder.
‘Be there in a minute,’ Gabe called. ‘Go back inside before you melt.’ Graham didn’t need to be told twice.
Gabe finished up and entered the public bar attached to the service station. It still smelled new. Clean, crisp and nothing like the original he had spent so many hours – and dollars – at. But that one was long gone, washed away in the floods of 2010 and replaced with this sparkling version with all the mod cons, not to mention the swimming pool and caravan park that went with it. He was sure the tourists and probably even the locals appreciated it, but Gabe preferred the old one, with its leaning walls and sagging timbers, and the names of various shearing and mustering teams that had passed through over the decades etched onto walls, doors and benchtops. Who knew, maybe in fifty years this one would have that feel about it, but he suspected Graham would not look favourably on anyone leaving their mark on the new furnishings. Which is why Gabe had carved his own moniker with his Leatherman on the underside of the new bar top while the bartender was occupied elsewhere. He’d tell him one day, maybe.
‘Usual?’ Graham asked.
‘Just one,’ Gabe grunted. ‘And two to go.’ He tossed the wad of notes on the counter. ‘For the fuel. And grab us four burgers and chips, and a pack of water bottles, cold ones if you’ve got them. And make one of those burgers vegetarian if you can.’
‘Hungry today?’
He’d already thought about the answer to this obvious question. ‘Calling out to Bidgemia. Crew put an order in, guess they didn’t feel like cooking.’
Graham laughed, placing a freshly poured pint in front of Gabe. ‘Usually they’d come get it themselves and run me dry while they wait.’
Gabe shrugged. ‘Bad luck for you, I guess.’ He drained half the glass in one go. It was cold enough to send a spike of pain through his back teeth and up to his temples, but it was good. ‘Shit, I needed that.’
‘Rough day?’
‘You’ve got no idea.’
Graham took the required notes and headed round to the shop till. ‘Someone been shooting at you?’
Gabe looked up in alarm, seeing the publican peering through the storefront window at his ute windscreen. ‘Stupid fuckin’ tourist shit themselves coming past me,’ he called out, hoping Graham’s eyes weren’t too good. ‘Veered off the track and sent a couple massive stones my way.’
‘Must’ve been bloody big stones.’ Graham returned, handing Gabe his change. ‘Don’t let the Carnarvon coppers see that, they’ll sticker your vehicle in a heartbeat.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m steering clear of cops for a while. I’ll get it fixed in Gero.’ He finished the pint, considered the empty glass for a moment, and shrugged. ‘Give us another – burgers will be a while, I guess.’
Graham obliged, and as Gabe started the second glass a thought occurred to him. ‘Hey, there’s no bacon in those things, is there?’
‘Yeah, there is, why’s that?’
Gabe thought fast. ‘They’ve got a Muslim backpacker out there. Could your girl do that vego one in a separate pan or something?’
Graham’s face twisted a little, but he passed the food order on, and Gabe returned to his beer. Through the opening in the kitchen he could see a young blonde woman bustling about, preparing the food. Most likely a backpacker, he thought, wondering if the girl ever expected to find herself flipping burgers in the middle of nowhere during a scorching summer. Probably about as much as he and his companions had expected to find themselves in their current situation.
As he sipped away he cast his eyes about the new bar. At least they had tried to preserve some of the history. Photos of the old place adorned the walls, along with station memorabilia, but something else caught his eye. A T-shirt hung from one wall, designed with the discerning tourist in mind and emblazoned with a cartoon signpost showing just how far they were from everywhere else. The caption read ‘I Got Lost at the Junction’. Gabe grinned and pointed at the shirt.
‘Give us one of those too.’
‘Big spender today.’ Graham looked a little surprised, but he was an astute enough businessman not to ask any questions lest Gabe changed his mind. He fetched the requested item, collecting another note from the pile.
Gabe made his beer last the distance, and upon seeing the four packs of food being carried out to him fifteen minutes later, he drained the final dregs and rose. Graham placed a brown paper bag with two stubbies on the bench. ‘Happy hunting. Many wild dogs out there?’
‘More than you know, mate,’ replied Gabe, scooping up his order and heading for the door. ‘More than you know.’
THIRTY-FOUR
The heavy rumble of Gabe’s ute made Courtney open her eyes, and she saw it pull back into the rest area. ‘Looks like dinner is served.’
‘Good,’ Darren said, helping her to her feet. ‘I’m bloody starved.’
Thinking about food made her realise that she was too. As they walked back, she saw Amin had left the shade of the white gum and was now kneeling at the edge of the grass, some distance from where Gabe had parked.
‘What’s he doing?’ Darren asked.
‘Praying, I think,’ Courtney said. ‘Can’t say I blame him.’
‘Hope it works.’
They were halfway to the LandCruiser, where Gabe leaned against the bonnet, lighting a smoke and watching them approach. ‘What about what he was saying?’ she said. ‘About not reporting anything? We can’t let the smugglers keep bringing people in. We have to tell someone eventually.’
Darren was silent, and by the time he answered they had reached the ute. ‘I dunno,’ he finally said.
‘Dunno what?’ Gabe asked.
‘About not reporting those smugglers,’ Courtney said.
Like Darren, Gabe said nothing, instead throwing them a cold water bottle each.
‘You both agree with him?’ She was stunned.
‘No,’ Gabe answered, and then scratched the back of his head in thought. ‘Not entirely. I don’t know. Look, three days ago I’d have said anyone coming here on a boat is a bloody queue jumper and should go back where they came from. Keep their shitty problems to their shitty countries.’
Darren gave a little snort and grinned. ‘Good plan. Maybe we should’ve done that a couple hundred years ago.’
Gabe ignored him. ‘Part of me still thinks that. Look at the shit we’re in because of it. But he’s just trying to keep his family safe. What would we do in his shoes? Guess I never really thought about how bad it could be in other places.’
‘But smugglers are evil,’ Courtney protested. ‘Look at what they tried to do to us.’
‘I agree, but they’re only there because there’s a demand. Shit, I even voted for the Libs, and they’re the ones who started the whole “Stop the Boats” thing. Not that it matters much now – both bunches of arseholes are the same these days. Anyway, this is all theoretical. We might not have a choice either way.’
‘What do you mean?’ Courtney asked.
‘I doubt they’re just going to let us walk in, grab Amin’s wife and son and walk out again. Maybe we can sneak them out, but most likely it’ll be a snatch and run. We might have to head straight for Carnarvon to the cop shop. I doubt every cop there is bent.’
‘What will be, will be,’ Amin said, returning the group. ‘But I think you are right, we will have to involve the authorities at some stage. But not until we achieve what we came for.’
‘Sounds fair,’ Gabe said. ‘Happy with that?’
Courtney thought about it for a while and finally agreed. She didn’t understand all the complexities of what was going on, but knew it was much larger than she’d first suspected. Before she could say anything, Gabe threw something else at her, which she caught by reflex.
‘Put that on,’ he said. ‘You look a little out of place in those scrubs.’
‘Great, so now I’ll look like a dopey tourist instead?’ She grinned, inspecting the cheesy slogan on the shirt.
‘Better a dopey tourist than a lost nurse.’ He handed out the burgers, which were accepted with relish, and nodded at Amin’s. ‘No meat in that one, and they cooked it in a clean pan, away from the bacon.’
Amin smiled. ‘Thank you, my friend. It was good of you to think of that.’
Courtney left her burger on the bonnet and headed for the ablutions block. ‘I’ll change into this shirt first.’
Inside the block she whipped off her filthy scrub top and, using the last of the paper towels by the sink, gave herself a quick wipe all over. God, she stank, but then her companions were no better. She put on the new shirt and inspected herself in the mirror. The shirt was ridiculous, but at least it smelled clean. Who knew, maybe the smugglers would take one look at her and die laughing. She shrugged and entered a cubicle. No paper. Typical of how the day was going. The second stall wasn’t any better, and as Courtney headed back outside she told herself that if they got out of this mess she would let the Shire know to lift their game.
Gabe smiled at her new top when she approached, and she held out her arms and did a little spin for them. ‘Better?’
‘Much,’ he said through a mouthful of burger.
‘There’s no paper in there,’ Courtney said.
‘Bloody tourists,’ Gabe grunted. ‘They’ll take anything not bolted down. Hang on, I’ll grab you a roll.’
She followed Gabe to the passenger side. He opened the glove box and to her surprise a large wad of notes fell out, which he caught and tucked back into the compartment. He handed her the toilet roll. ‘Don’t trust the banks. Never have,’ he said, but his voice held a cautious edge.
‘No wonder you could pay cash,’ she replied, and headed back to the ablutions block. Why was he being so defensive? He had already told her he carried cash out here. That old man is definitely hiding something, she thought.
Courtney returned to finally enjoy her burger. She fished out the patty and bacon and held it up. ‘Anyone want this?’
Darren did, and added it to what was left of his burger.
‘Don’t eat meat?’ Gabe asked Courtney, his face tinged with mild curiosity and a touch of scorn.
‘Nope,’ she said, chowing down on the remains. It was good. The others had already finished theirs, but with the exception of Amin no one seemed in any hurry to get going again. She couldn’t really blame them.
‘How’s a bloody vego survive in Jakob’s River?’ Gabe asked. ‘And why didn’t you say so? I could’ve got you the same as Amin, or a sandwich or something.’
‘Didn’t want to be a hassle, and I’m not that fussy. And to your first question, with some difficulty. Not much in the way of fresh veg in the shop.’
‘No,’ Gabe agreed. ‘I saw that. Must be hard trying to eat healthy when the delivery truck’s always late.’
The harsh tone of the satellite phone cut through the air, startling them all. After some hesitation, Gabe reached through the open door to answer it, listened for a moment and handed it to Darren.
