Wild Dogs, page 25
The footsteps grew closer, and Gabe tensed, raising his rifle stock, as did Amin. A figure entered the room and Aamena jumped to her feet, clasping Jawad to her in a mother’s protective embrace.
‘What are you—’
The man never got to finish. Gabe’s rifle butt crashed into the back of his head the moment it appeared around the open door. It sent a shock through his wrists and made a dull thud as the rubber-backed stock connected with skull. The man collapsed to his knees and fell forward onto his hands. Stunned and dazed, but not unconscious. That did not last very long, as Amin stepped up and mirrored Gabe’s actions. The stock of the older M1 he carried had no rubber shoulder guard – such things deemed superfluous by the US military back in the day – and a sharp crack resounded this time. The body slumped to the floor and did not move, blood already pooling on the dull floorboards.
‘Parker,’ Gabe said. Amin said something to Aamena. She made to protest but he cut her off with a sharp word, though his expression was gentle. She sat back down, her face a mixture of fear and sadness.
‘We’ll be back,’ Gabe said, as gently as he could. He didn’t know if he was right or not.
FORTY-TWO
The hallway was empty, but they could still hear voices up ahead.
‘What’s the plan?’ Gabe whispered.
‘Surprise,’ Amin said. ‘Run in shouting, waving our guns. Perhaps they will give up.’
‘And if they don’t?’
Amin’s eyes hardened. ‘Then they die.’
Gabe took a deep breath, just as a voice called out from the room ahead. ‘Westy, hurry up in there!’
‘Ready?’ Gabe asked.
‘Ready.’
‘Here goes nothing.’
The two of them exploded through the doorway, rifles raised.
‘Don’t fuckin’ move!’ Gabe yelled, hoping he sounded more intimidating than he felt.
Parker was the first to react, launching himself and the chair he was strapped to shoulder-first into Garrick Wheldon. Gabe saw the two bodies crash to the dusty wooden floor. The sergeant was a big man and pinned his would-be captor under him, ignoring the blows raining down around his ears, and Gabe was reminded of a similar scene only a few days ago.
The second man did not hesitate either. He flung up his arm, the barrel of his pistol trained on Amin, but he never managed to fire. The crash of the M1 exploded through the room, once, then again. Behind them Gabe heard a scream from Aamena. The man slumped back against the wall and slid down, gun falling from his hands.
Gabe strode over and placed his rifle against Garrick Wheldon’s head, who was still struggling with Parker. ‘Quit it,’ he said. Wheldon quit, dropping his arms to the floor, and stared blankly up at Gabe.
Sergeant Parker half rolled, half fell off the prostrate man and Gabe saw his wrists were handcuffed behind the seat’s backrest. The officer gave him a pained grin.
‘Took your bloody time.’
‘Told you it was suicide. Where’s the keys?’
‘On my belt.’ He craned his neck around and looked at Amin. ‘Did you find them?’
‘Yeah, we did. Amin, come watch this prick for us while I get the sarge loose.’
At that point Gabe heard footsteps, and saw Aamena emerge with Jawad from the hallway and survey the room, clearly concerned the gunshots may have been directed towards her husband. As he rummaged around Parker’s waist, searching for the keys, he noticed Jawad glance at the collapsed body against the wall. The boy barely seemed to register it and merely stood with his mother, clasping her hand as she watched Amin stand guard over their captive. Gabe again wondered what he had seen in his short life, and decided he would rather not know.
He released Parker and helped him up. The police officer immediately hoisted Wheldon to his feet, spun him around and snapped the handcuffs over the man’s wrists.
‘I’m arresting you for assault of a public officer, possession of illegal firearms and a metric shit-ton of other charges we don’t have time for now.’
While Parker dealt with Wheldon, Gabe peered out the window. The bus was still there.
‘We need to move,’ he said.
Parker gathered his service pistol from the table, checked it over and holstered the weapon. He shoved Wheldon towards the door. ‘The bus. Go.’
They filed out, Wheldon and Parker first, followed by Aamena and Jawad, with Amin and Gabe in the rear. They stepped past the body lying on the verandah, and Gabe stooped for a closer look. As he straightened he saw Parker also looking at the dead man.
‘You?’
Gabe nodded. ‘He was about to take a ping at Courtney.’
‘Shit. Anyone else?’
Gabe didn’t get to answer. Engines could be heard in the distance, and they were growing louder. ‘Go!’ he yelled. ‘They’re coming back.’
They were halfway across the yard when he saw them. The two utes raced over the cattle grid, almost launching into the air across the sharp rise. Gabe immediately fired at the first one, but to no effect. Amin and Parker did the same, and the windscreen became a mat of cracked glass. The driver spun his vehicle in a broad skid, coming to a rest near the fuel bowsers, but the second ute roared towards them. Amin fired again. Parker shifted his aim too, but the vehicle kept coming. It was going to bowl them over like skittles if they didn’t move.
Gabe grabbed Aamena’s arm, yanking her back towards him and, by default, Jawad with her, held in a vice grip by his mother. Parker shoved Wheldon in the opposite direction, still heading towards the bus, firing his last shots at the oncoming vehicle as he ran. Only Amin remained where he was. He fired twice more, but the second shot was followed by a sharp ping as the clip ejected.
With the party split three ways, the driver kept his line on Amin. Gabe pushed Aamena and Jawad towards the workshop.
‘Run!’ he yelled. ‘Behind the shed!’ He had no idea if she understood him or not. He worked his bolt and sent a round towards the ute, more in hope than anything else. To his utter amazement, the front tyre exploded, and the ute veered to the right. Just a little, but enough to allow Amin to dive in the opposite direction, dropping the rifle as he did so. Gabe ducked to catch him, just as something struck the dirt near his feet. The occupants of the first vehicle were firing at them from behind the safety of its body.
The second ute skidded alongside the waiting bus, almost crashing into it and the driver began to climb out. Gabe hauled Amin to his feet, expecting at any moment to feel the thud of a bullet. He shoved Amin in the direction of Aamena and Jawad.
‘Around there! Move!’
Amin ran to his wife and child, placing himself between them and the firing men, and the three of them disappeared around the corner of the workshop.
Gabe flicked the bolt through its motion as he backed away, sent a wild shot towards the fuel bowsers, which, as far as he could tell, missed everything and flew harmlessly out into the scrub. Through the raised dust he could make out the figures of Parker and Wheldon entering the bus.
‘Courtney!’ he yelled. Somehow she heard him, turning her head through the open driver’s door window. ‘Go!’ He saw she was about to protest. ‘Christ’s sake, girl! Drive!’ He sent another shot towards the first ute, all while backing away towards the side of the workshop. They locked eyes, and he pleaded with her. ‘Go!’
She was torn, he could see it, but just as he ducked behind the workshop, the bus lurched forward, almost running down the second ute’s driver who was about to open the door and drag Courtney out.
Amin had joined his family and Gabe saw they were ready to run past the packing room and around the opposite end of the shed, where the lean-to stood.
‘This way,’ he called, making for the dongas and the fence that stood past them. Amin started to protest but Gabe cut him off. ‘Bus is gone. She had to leave. We’re running from here.’
He saw the look of concern flash across Amin’s face, but it quickly turned to grim determination as he redirected Aamena and Jawad to follow Gabe. The four of them sprinted past the dongas, stepped over the plain wire fence and melted into the scrub.
Courtney heard Gabe’s order, knew she must do as he said, but hesitated. How would he get away? Another shout, and she saw him begging her to go. She also saw the driver of the second ute leap from his vehicle and make a beeline towards her door.
‘Hang on!’ she called over her shoulder. Parker had just sat Wheldon down on the seat behind her and was about to climb into the front passenger seat when she shot the bus forward, sending the officer tumbling back.
‘Sorry!’ she shouted, seeing his upturned feet in the rear-view mirror, hoping he heard her over the chorus of screams and wails coming from the rest of the passengers. In the side mirror she could also see the ute driver lose his grip on the door handle.
The bus accelerated quickly, and she headed straight for the cattle grid leading out of the homestead’s yard. Follow the road and turn left. She remembered Gabe’s instructions and was struck with guilt as she realised driving over that grid would mean leaving him, Amin and the very reason they came here behind. In the mirror she saw the huddled women and children in the back. So many, and she had Parker and one of the smugglers with her too. Dammit, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
So much was happening around her. The screaming. Dust. Gunshots. This is fucking nuts! And then Sergeant Aaron Parker’s voice cut through it all.
‘Fast as you can, Courtney. They’ll be okay. The dogger will look after them.’ He was panting hard.
She set her jaw, gripped the wheel and pushed down on the accelerator. Ahead, leaving the protection of their vehicle, the two gun-wielding smugglers, or drug dealers – either way, she didn’t care, they were the bad guys – had started chasing Gabe. Courtney swung towards them and sent the men scurrying back behind their vehicle. The bus shot past, bouncing off the ute’s side and sending a shower of sparks skywards as they squealed by. Her passengers screamed. Seconds later they cleared the grid and careened down the road.
‘I don’t think they are following us,’ Parker said. He had regained his footing, leaning into the front compartment as they rattled down the narrow gravel road.
‘What about Gabe?’ Courtney asked. ‘We just left him, and Amin.’ Another thought. ‘Oh God, where’s Darren?’
Parker gripped her arm. ‘I don’t know. We need to get back to Carnarvon, or at least close enough that I can call the station.’
‘But—’
‘Courtney, we have no choice,’ Parker said. ‘I can’t risk leaving you alone, and we can’t take everyone back there. Just get to town fast as you can.’
From behind them, the chorus of nervous chatter continued.
‘Maybe you should try to calm them down,’ Courtney said. She watched in the mirror as the sarge turned to the women and children, raising his hands.
‘Does anyone speak English?’ The chatter quietened, but there was no response. ‘English?’ he repeated. Again nothing, but Courtney could see all eyes were on the policeman. She focused hers on the road again.
‘We’re taking you somewhere safe.’ His tone was warm, friendly, but there were sudden intakes of breath, and a few of the bolder women started berating him. Courtney turned her head back to see the perplexed officer giving the women a cheery double thumbs up.
‘Put your thumbs down,’ Courtney hissed. ‘To Afghans that’s like flipping them the bird.’
Parker stared at his hands, then at the distressed women. He quickly raised his palms again, shaking his head in apology. ‘Sorry,’ he kept repeating as the group quietened down. A few of the woman must’ve realised his rudeness was unintentional, and they gave him an understanding nod.
‘We will be alright,’ Parker said, sounding a little sheepish.
‘Um, Sergeant?’ Courtney swallowed hard. ‘You might have spoken too soon.’ She pointed ahead. A vehicle rushed towards them, sending a cloud of white dust high into the air like fine talc. It was a troop carrier. A police troop carrier. Constable Matthew Jefferson had arrived.
There was nowhere for them to go. The scrub on either side of the road was too thick to drive through.
‘What do we do?’
The police vehicle broadsided to a halt, effectively blocking the road. Jefferson leaped out, brandishing what appeared to be a shotgun. Courtney gasped as she saw the second vehicle pull alongside the troopy, recognising the white LandCruiser with its steel rack, spotlight, matted windscreen and bent door frame. Chase.
‘Goddamn little bastard,’ swore Parker. Behind them, Garrick Wheldon gave a guffaw of laughter.
Courtney thought about crashing through, but didn’t think the bus would be strong enough to survive the process, and the fearsome looking weapon the young policeman was pointing at their rather large and clear windscreen didn’t help. Parker must have come to the same conclusion.
‘Pull over, Courtney, we can’t get through.’ He slotted a fresh magazine into his service pistol, and holstered it again. She noticed he did not flick over the restraining strap.
She stopped the bus a few metres from the road block, her stomach sick with dread. Jefferson motioned for them to exit, and after exchanging glances with Parker, Courtney opened her door, leaving the bus running. Just in case.
The two of them walked slowly towards the young police officer and his companion.
‘You should’ve stayed in bed, Sarge,’ Jefferson said as they approached him.
‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Parker demanded. ‘What have you got yourself involved in?’
‘Nothing that concerns you,’ Jefferson replied. ‘Or you, Miss Drage.’
‘Hello, love,’ Chase said, that big shit-eating grin stuck to his face.
A shout came from the bus. ‘Oi! Get them to uncuff me!’
Jefferson looked past them and saw Wheldon leaning over the seats. ‘Where are the others?’
Neither of them answered, and Jefferson shrugged. ‘Sorry, Sarge, but can’t have you carrying. Chuck them over here. Nothing funny, or the nurse will be busy.’ Chase waved his gun at her, and Courtney took a step back.
Parker slowly removed his service pistol and taser, throwing them at the constable’s feet.
‘Good. Now, go and release Mr Wheldon please, and he can return those ladies to work.’
Courtney watched as Parker walked back to the bus. She could sense his frustration; the man was positively radiating rage. He returned with Wheldon, and removed the cuffs. Wheldon grinned, rubbing his wrists. ‘You two know when to show up,’ he said.
Jefferson held out his own set of handcuffs. ‘Restrain them both, then take the bus back to camp. The women have got work to do, and we need to find the others, before they can get back to town.’
Courtney felt the cold steel snap over her wrists and heard the click repeat as Parker was also cuffed. Jefferson picked up Parker’s gun and taser from the dirt and tossed them to Chase, then pointed at the bus.
‘In the back, you two,’ he said.
They clambered inside, and the doors slammed closed behind them. The seated women said nothing, heads down.
‘Now what?’ she whispered to Parker.
‘I have no idea,’ he said. ‘To think all this was going on right under my nose.’
‘To be fair, it’s a big place, and they’ve got inside help.’
‘Yeah,’ Parker growled. ‘Wait until I get my hands on that little bastard.’
Thinking back to the last time they were captured, and the fact they had managed to escape then, Courtney hoped Parker would get the chance. And that reminded her of Darren. Where the hell was he?
FORTY-THREE
From his perch high up on the water tower, Darren saw the two utes he’d managed to lose in the scrub tear back towards the homestead yard, and he didn’t like it. They were meant to be still searching for him, but the useless shits had lost him within minutes. He supposed he could have gone a bit slower, but then, they had guns, so fuck that for a joke. He’d doubled back to the tank stand to get the lay of the land. And right now, the lay was going all cockeyed.
Movement at the house caught his eye as Gabe, Parker and Amin rushed out of the homestead with what looked to be Amin’s family and a Wheldon brother in tow. So that was good. But his relief was short-lived as the vehicles entered the yard. What could he do from up here? Not much, he decided, and stayed hidden.
His empty stomach tried to climb into his throat as the second ute nearly collided with Amin and then the bus, and almost succeeded as Courtney ploughed past the first ute before screaming through the gate and down the road. He let out a deep breath, swallowing hard as he watched the dust cloud billow behind her. There was just one problem. She was short of five passengers – Darren, and the four others who had just fled around the back of the shed and into the scrub.
He watched on as the three men regathered themselves into a group. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but judging by their gesticulations they weren’t happy. Two kept pointing the way Courtney had gone, the other after Gabe. They had run to where the bikes were parked, and Darren felt a small puff of pride as the group started looking for keys.
The man arguing for Gabe’s direction must’ve won, and the three thugs disappeared behind the shed, undoubtedly hot on Gabe and the others’ heels. Darren waited for what he guessed was five minutes and descended the ladder. His bike was parked a little way back, but he didn’t go to it. Instead, he once again stole across the yard and made his way to what he had dubbed the packing shed.
The door was still open. It had been a mass exodus, that was for sure, and aside from the scattered chairs the shed held one other significant difference from last night. The tables were no longer clear. Four large, plastic-wrapped bundles of what Darren could only assume were drugs were laid out evenly along the tabletops. One bag was open, as though the women had been about to start breaking it down into the smaller sachets. He guessed his little stunt show earlier had put an end to that.
Darren looked around, an idea forming in his head. Whether it was a good idea or not remained to be seen. He found a grey duffle bag on one of the shelves, shoved the bundles into it, threw the bag over his shoulder and left the packing shed, heading for his bike. Insurance, evidence, he wasn’t sure which, but if he had something of theirs, that could only be a good thing.
‘What are you—’
The man never got to finish. Gabe’s rifle butt crashed into the back of his head the moment it appeared around the open door. It sent a shock through his wrists and made a dull thud as the rubber-backed stock connected with skull. The man collapsed to his knees and fell forward onto his hands. Stunned and dazed, but not unconscious. That did not last very long, as Amin stepped up and mirrored Gabe’s actions. The stock of the older M1 he carried had no rubber shoulder guard – such things deemed superfluous by the US military back in the day – and a sharp crack resounded this time. The body slumped to the floor and did not move, blood already pooling on the dull floorboards.
‘Parker,’ Gabe said. Amin said something to Aamena. She made to protest but he cut her off with a sharp word, though his expression was gentle. She sat back down, her face a mixture of fear and sadness.
‘We’ll be back,’ Gabe said, as gently as he could. He didn’t know if he was right or not.
FORTY-TWO
The hallway was empty, but they could still hear voices up ahead.
‘What’s the plan?’ Gabe whispered.
‘Surprise,’ Amin said. ‘Run in shouting, waving our guns. Perhaps they will give up.’
‘And if they don’t?’
Amin’s eyes hardened. ‘Then they die.’
Gabe took a deep breath, just as a voice called out from the room ahead. ‘Westy, hurry up in there!’
‘Ready?’ Gabe asked.
‘Ready.’
‘Here goes nothing.’
The two of them exploded through the doorway, rifles raised.
‘Don’t fuckin’ move!’ Gabe yelled, hoping he sounded more intimidating than he felt.
Parker was the first to react, launching himself and the chair he was strapped to shoulder-first into Garrick Wheldon. Gabe saw the two bodies crash to the dusty wooden floor. The sergeant was a big man and pinned his would-be captor under him, ignoring the blows raining down around his ears, and Gabe was reminded of a similar scene only a few days ago.
The second man did not hesitate either. He flung up his arm, the barrel of his pistol trained on Amin, but he never managed to fire. The crash of the M1 exploded through the room, once, then again. Behind them Gabe heard a scream from Aamena. The man slumped back against the wall and slid down, gun falling from his hands.
Gabe strode over and placed his rifle against Garrick Wheldon’s head, who was still struggling with Parker. ‘Quit it,’ he said. Wheldon quit, dropping his arms to the floor, and stared blankly up at Gabe.
Sergeant Parker half rolled, half fell off the prostrate man and Gabe saw his wrists were handcuffed behind the seat’s backrest. The officer gave him a pained grin.
‘Took your bloody time.’
‘Told you it was suicide. Where’s the keys?’
‘On my belt.’ He craned his neck around and looked at Amin. ‘Did you find them?’
‘Yeah, we did. Amin, come watch this prick for us while I get the sarge loose.’
At that point Gabe heard footsteps, and saw Aamena emerge with Jawad from the hallway and survey the room, clearly concerned the gunshots may have been directed towards her husband. As he rummaged around Parker’s waist, searching for the keys, he noticed Jawad glance at the collapsed body against the wall. The boy barely seemed to register it and merely stood with his mother, clasping her hand as she watched Amin stand guard over their captive. Gabe again wondered what he had seen in his short life, and decided he would rather not know.
He released Parker and helped him up. The police officer immediately hoisted Wheldon to his feet, spun him around and snapped the handcuffs over the man’s wrists.
‘I’m arresting you for assault of a public officer, possession of illegal firearms and a metric shit-ton of other charges we don’t have time for now.’
While Parker dealt with Wheldon, Gabe peered out the window. The bus was still there.
‘We need to move,’ he said.
Parker gathered his service pistol from the table, checked it over and holstered the weapon. He shoved Wheldon towards the door. ‘The bus. Go.’
They filed out, Wheldon and Parker first, followed by Aamena and Jawad, with Amin and Gabe in the rear. They stepped past the body lying on the verandah, and Gabe stooped for a closer look. As he straightened he saw Parker also looking at the dead man.
‘You?’
Gabe nodded. ‘He was about to take a ping at Courtney.’
‘Shit. Anyone else?’
Gabe didn’t get to answer. Engines could be heard in the distance, and they were growing louder. ‘Go!’ he yelled. ‘They’re coming back.’
They were halfway across the yard when he saw them. The two utes raced over the cattle grid, almost launching into the air across the sharp rise. Gabe immediately fired at the first one, but to no effect. Amin and Parker did the same, and the windscreen became a mat of cracked glass. The driver spun his vehicle in a broad skid, coming to a rest near the fuel bowsers, but the second ute roared towards them. Amin fired again. Parker shifted his aim too, but the vehicle kept coming. It was going to bowl them over like skittles if they didn’t move.
Gabe grabbed Aamena’s arm, yanking her back towards him and, by default, Jawad with her, held in a vice grip by his mother. Parker shoved Wheldon in the opposite direction, still heading towards the bus, firing his last shots at the oncoming vehicle as he ran. Only Amin remained where he was. He fired twice more, but the second shot was followed by a sharp ping as the clip ejected.
With the party split three ways, the driver kept his line on Amin. Gabe pushed Aamena and Jawad towards the workshop.
‘Run!’ he yelled. ‘Behind the shed!’ He had no idea if she understood him or not. He worked his bolt and sent a round towards the ute, more in hope than anything else. To his utter amazement, the front tyre exploded, and the ute veered to the right. Just a little, but enough to allow Amin to dive in the opposite direction, dropping the rifle as he did so. Gabe ducked to catch him, just as something struck the dirt near his feet. The occupants of the first vehicle were firing at them from behind the safety of its body.
The second ute skidded alongside the waiting bus, almost crashing into it and the driver began to climb out. Gabe hauled Amin to his feet, expecting at any moment to feel the thud of a bullet. He shoved Amin in the direction of Aamena and Jawad.
‘Around there! Move!’
Amin ran to his wife and child, placing himself between them and the firing men, and the three of them disappeared around the corner of the workshop.
Gabe flicked the bolt through its motion as he backed away, sent a wild shot towards the fuel bowsers, which, as far as he could tell, missed everything and flew harmlessly out into the scrub. Through the raised dust he could make out the figures of Parker and Wheldon entering the bus.
‘Courtney!’ he yelled. Somehow she heard him, turning her head through the open driver’s door window. ‘Go!’ He saw she was about to protest. ‘Christ’s sake, girl! Drive!’ He sent another shot towards the first ute, all while backing away towards the side of the workshop. They locked eyes, and he pleaded with her. ‘Go!’
She was torn, he could see it, but just as he ducked behind the workshop, the bus lurched forward, almost running down the second ute’s driver who was about to open the door and drag Courtney out.
Amin had joined his family and Gabe saw they were ready to run past the packing room and around the opposite end of the shed, where the lean-to stood.
‘This way,’ he called, making for the dongas and the fence that stood past them. Amin started to protest but Gabe cut him off. ‘Bus is gone. She had to leave. We’re running from here.’
He saw the look of concern flash across Amin’s face, but it quickly turned to grim determination as he redirected Aamena and Jawad to follow Gabe. The four of them sprinted past the dongas, stepped over the plain wire fence and melted into the scrub.
Courtney heard Gabe’s order, knew she must do as he said, but hesitated. How would he get away? Another shout, and she saw him begging her to go. She also saw the driver of the second ute leap from his vehicle and make a beeline towards her door.
‘Hang on!’ she called over her shoulder. Parker had just sat Wheldon down on the seat behind her and was about to climb into the front passenger seat when she shot the bus forward, sending the officer tumbling back.
‘Sorry!’ she shouted, seeing his upturned feet in the rear-view mirror, hoping he heard her over the chorus of screams and wails coming from the rest of the passengers. In the side mirror she could also see the ute driver lose his grip on the door handle.
The bus accelerated quickly, and she headed straight for the cattle grid leading out of the homestead’s yard. Follow the road and turn left. She remembered Gabe’s instructions and was struck with guilt as she realised driving over that grid would mean leaving him, Amin and the very reason they came here behind. In the mirror she saw the huddled women and children in the back. So many, and she had Parker and one of the smugglers with her too. Dammit, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
So much was happening around her. The screaming. Dust. Gunshots. This is fucking nuts! And then Sergeant Aaron Parker’s voice cut through it all.
‘Fast as you can, Courtney. They’ll be okay. The dogger will look after them.’ He was panting hard.
She set her jaw, gripped the wheel and pushed down on the accelerator. Ahead, leaving the protection of their vehicle, the two gun-wielding smugglers, or drug dealers – either way, she didn’t care, they were the bad guys – had started chasing Gabe. Courtney swung towards them and sent the men scurrying back behind their vehicle. The bus shot past, bouncing off the ute’s side and sending a shower of sparks skywards as they squealed by. Her passengers screamed. Seconds later they cleared the grid and careened down the road.
‘I don’t think they are following us,’ Parker said. He had regained his footing, leaning into the front compartment as they rattled down the narrow gravel road.
‘What about Gabe?’ Courtney asked. ‘We just left him, and Amin.’ Another thought. ‘Oh God, where’s Darren?’
Parker gripped her arm. ‘I don’t know. We need to get back to Carnarvon, or at least close enough that I can call the station.’
‘But—’
‘Courtney, we have no choice,’ Parker said. ‘I can’t risk leaving you alone, and we can’t take everyone back there. Just get to town fast as you can.’
From behind them, the chorus of nervous chatter continued.
‘Maybe you should try to calm them down,’ Courtney said. She watched in the mirror as the sarge turned to the women and children, raising his hands.
‘Does anyone speak English?’ The chatter quietened, but there was no response. ‘English?’ he repeated. Again nothing, but Courtney could see all eyes were on the policeman. She focused hers on the road again.
‘We’re taking you somewhere safe.’ His tone was warm, friendly, but there were sudden intakes of breath, and a few of the bolder women started berating him. Courtney turned her head back to see the perplexed officer giving the women a cheery double thumbs up.
‘Put your thumbs down,’ Courtney hissed. ‘To Afghans that’s like flipping them the bird.’
Parker stared at his hands, then at the distressed women. He quickly raised his palms again, shaking his head in apology. ‘Sorry,’ he kept repeating as the group quietened down. A few of the woman must’ve realised his rudeness was unintentional, and they gave him an understanding nod.
‘We will be alright,’ Parker said, sounding a little sheepish.
‘Um, Sergeant?’ Courtney swallowed hard. ‘You might have spoken too soon.’ She pointed ahead. A vehicle rushed towards them, sending a cloud of white dust high into the air like fine talc. It was a troop carrier. A police troop carrier. Constable Matthew Jefferson had arrived.
There was nowhere for them to go. The scrub on either side of the road was too thick to drive through.
‘What do we do?’
The police vehicle broadsided to a halt, effectively blocking the road. Jefferson leaped out, brandishing what appeared to be a shotgun. Courtney gasped as she saw the second vehicle pull alongside the troopy, recognising the white LandCruiser with its steel rack, spotlight, matted windscreen and bent door frame. Chase.
‘Goddamn little bastard,’ swore Parker. Behind them, Garrick Wheldon gave a guffaw of laughter.
Courtney thought about crashing through, but didn’t think the bus would be strong enough to survive the process, and the fearsome looking weapon the young policeman was pointing at their rather large and clear windscreen didn’t help. Parker must have come to the same conclusion.
‘Pull over, Courtney, we can’t get through.’ He slotted a fresh magazine into his service pistol, and holstered it again. She noticed he did not flick over the restraining strap.
She stopped the bus a few metres from the road block, her stomach sick with dread. Jefferson motioned for them to exit, and after exchanging glances with Parker, Courtney opened her door, leaving the bus running. Just in case.
The two of them walked slowly towards the young police officer and his companion.
‘You should’ve stayed in bed, Sarge,’ Jefferson said as they approached him.
‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Parker demanded. ‘What have you got yourself involved in?’
‘Nothing that concerns you,’ Jefferson replied. ‘Or you, Miss Drage.’
‘Hello, love,’ Chase said, that big shit-eating grin stuck to his face.
A shout came from the bus. ‘Oi! Get them to uncuff me!’
Jefferson looked past them and saw Wheldon leaning over the seats. ‘Where are the others?’
Neither of them answered, and Jefferson shrugged. ‘Sorry, Sarge, but can’t have you carrying. Chuck them over here. Nothing funny, or the nurse will be busy.’ Chase waved his gun at her, and Courtney took a step back.
Parker slowly removed his service pistol and taser, throwing them at the constable’s feet.
‘Good. Now, go and release Mr Wheldon please, and he can return those ladies to work.’
Courtney watched as Parker walked back to the bus. She could sense his frustration; the man was positively radiating rage. He returned with Wheldon, and removed the cuffs. Wheldon grinned, rubbing his wrists. ‘You two know when to show up,’ he said.
Jefferson held out his own set of handcuffs. ‘Restrain them both, then take the bus back to camp. The women have got work to do, and we need to find the others, before they can get back to town.’
Courtney felt the cold steel snap over her wrists and heard the click repeat as Parker was also cuffed. Jefferson picked up Parker’s gun and taser from the dirt and tossed them to Chase, then pointed at the bus.
‘In the back, you two,’ he said.
They clambered inside, and the doors slammed closed behind them. The seated women said nothing, heads down.
‘Now what?’ she whispered to Parker.
‘I have no idea,’ he said. ‘To think all this was going on right under my nose.’
‘To be fair, it’s a big place, and they’ve got inside help.’
‘Yeah,’ Parker growled. ‘Wait until I get my hands on that little bastard.’
Thinking back to the last time they were captured, and the fact they had managed to escape then, Courtney hoped Parker would get the chance. And that reminded her of Darren. Where the hell was he?
FORTY-THREE
From his perch high up on the water tower, Darren saw the two utes he’d managed to lose in the scrub tear back towards the homestead yard, and he didn’t like it. They were meant to be still searching for him, but the useless shits had lost him within minutes. He supposed he could have gone a bit slower, but then, they had guns, so fuck that for a joke. He’d doubled back to the tank stand to get the lay of the land. And right now, the lay was going all cockeyed.
Movement at the house caught his eye as Gabe, Parker and Amin rushed out of the homestead with what looked to be Amin’s family and a Wheldon brother in tow. So that was good. But his relief was short-lived as the vehicles entered the yard. What could he do from up here? Not much, he decided, and stayed hidden.
His empty stomach tried to climb into his throat as the second ute nearly collided with Amin and then the bus, and almost succeeded as Courtney ploughed past the first ute before screaming through the gate and down the road. He let out a deep breath, swallowing hard as he watched the dust cloud billow behind her. There was just one problem. She was short of five passengers – Darren, and the four others who had just fled around the back of the shed and into the scrub.
He watched on as the three men regathered themselves into a group. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but judging by their gesticulations they weren’t happy. Two kept pointing the way Courtney had gone, the other after Gabe. They had run to where the bikes were parked, and Darren felt a small puff of pride as the group started looking for keys.
The man arguing for Gabe’s direction must’ve won, and the three thugs disappeared behind the shed, undoubtedly hot on Gabe and the others’ heels. Darren waited for what he guessed was five minutes and descended the ladder. His bike was parked a little way back, but he didn’t go to it. Instead, he once again stole across the yard and made his way to what he had dubbed the packing shed.
The door was still open. It had been a mass exodus, that was for sure, and aside from the scattered chairs the shed held one other significant difference from last night. The tables were no longer clear. Four large, plastic-wrapped bundles of what Darren could only assume were drugs were laid out evenly along the tabletops. One bag was open, as though the women had been about to start breaking it down into the smaller sachets. He guessed his little stunt show earlier had put an end to that.
Darren looked around, an idea forming in his head. Whether it was a good idea or not remained to be seen. He found a grey duffle bag on one of the shelves, shoved the bundles into it, threw the bag over his shoulder and left the packing shed, heading for his bike. Insurance, evidence, he wasn’t sure which, but if he had something of theirs, that could only be a good thing.
