End It With A Lie

by Peter M. Atkins

Simon and Sarah had begun their day late, and after breakfast they continued to pack enough of their belongings to travel light. Much of Simon’s gear they’d transported the day before to be stored at Ray’s place in town.

  Now today, there were only the final bits and pieces to be tidied up before they gave the house a clean. The owner would undoubtedly appreciate the work of good tenants. Both Sarah and Simon agreed they may wish to return to the outback again one day.

  Ray had the same intention, and had spent most of the day packing his gear to move it to town. Until with time he thought it safe to return.

  By three o’clock he had most of the work done, and all that remained for him to do was load his horses.

  It had been a long day.

  He’d towed his horse float to the stables and lowered its back door before he twisted the top off a beer bottle. As he sat in the cool shade of the stables resting, he told his horses,

  “There’s plenty of time before sundown.”

  They seemed content with his decision as they crunched on dry feed.

  Simon and Sarah’s belongings were in a loose pile on the back veranda, when Simon decided it time to retrieve the two letters concerning Quinn. Before he left he asked Ray if he needed a hand with anything and then drove into town expecting to be away for a half hour.

  Sarah watched Simon drive away, missing him as soon as he was lost to sight in a swirl of dust, before she turned back inside to find more things to do.

  As she entered the house and walked through the lounge room, she noticed Simon’s yellow address book on the rickety table by the telephone.

  The telephone beckoned her, as did a thought of her Mother. She didn’t feel at all like chatting; just needed to hear her Mother’s voice, which would, as always, no questions asked, offer reassurance.

  A call just before they left this place would suffice. That way she thought, she would be sure to remind Simon to collect his address book.

  As she turned away and walked towards the kitchen, it occurred to her that it had taken a long time for her to decide to make her personal phone call. She had stood looking at the phone for several long minutes, unable to decide, and now in another room of the old house she found herself unable to decide where to start.

  Finally she flopped into the nearest chair, and gazed fixedly through the dusty kitchen window pane at a distant point on the tree lined horizon.

  *****

  Simon drove through the small town and directly to Beth’s office. He was greeted by the sound of a computer keyboard and he asked Lynette if Beth was available.

  “She’s with a client, but they’ve been in there for a while. I expect she shouldn’t be long Simon. If you’d care to wait, I can make you a coffee?”

  Simon looked at his watch deciding he didn’t want to wait, but under the circumstances he had no choice. He declined the offer and thanked the girl for her suggestion.

  There were vacant chairs along the waiting room wall, but his restlessness kept him on his feet, and he paced for some minutes.

  “Lynnette, I might wait outside. Would you let Beth know that my need is urgent please?” Lynette saw Simon’s agitation and nodded as he turned to leave the room. He lit a cigarette as he went and drew smoke deep into his lungs. His hands trembled and his mind was in turmoil.

  He shouldn’t be here he told himself. It was stupid not to have just called Beth on the telephone. Ask her to destroy the two envelopes rather than leave Sarah on her own. The few minutes he waited seemed much longer, until finally a call from Lynette brought him back into the office.

  Beth met him at her door and ushered him in.

  Simon didn’t notice the look in her eyes as she took in the sight of him.

  She hadn’t seen him when he’d delivered the two envelopes, as he had left them in Lynette’s charge to be handed on to her.

  She thought he looked ragged.

  His clothes hung from his body, and he seemed much thinner than she’d ever seen. His skin had a certain pallor that matched the gauntness which showed around his eyes.

  She beckoned him to sit.

  “Simon. What’s wrong?”

  “Everything’s O.K Beth. I just need the two envelopes I left with you please.”

  Beth looked at him incredulously and questioned.

  “Come off it Simon. You’ve lost weight and you look like something the cat just dragged in. Something’s wrong, and I, as your friend would like to know what it is?”

  “Beth, please, there’s no time right now. Believe me. You will know the story in a little while. Trust me now, will you? I’d tell you the story, but there’s no time right now. I need the two envelopes. Please?”

  His hat was wrung in his hands as he continued, “I’ll be leaving town tomorrow morning, maybe earlier and I need the two envelopes. Please.” She listened to him and knew he was on the verge of breaking down, before she opened the safe and handed him the envelopes.

  His hands trembled visibly as he took them from her.

  The pressures of the last month were taking over and he was near the end of his tether.

  The slow build up from Abu’s first letter, until the plan of murder by the second hit man was clearly obvious in Simon’s features. His frame showed a weariness which dulled his every movement. Beth felt sadness in her heart at the sight of him. She feared for him as she watched his restless fidget.

  He turned to leave, but turned toward her in the doorway.

  “Beth I’m sorry. I must hurry, my friends might be in danger and I have to go to be with them. I’m sorry.”

  With that he was gone and the door closed behind him.

  Beth felt helpless as she slowly lowered herself into her office chair. Despondent that Simon believed himself to be beyond her help, and despairing that without his request she was in no position to help.

  Until she knew the truth she couldn’t even begin to help.

  She rubbed her eyes and wished for that knowledge. The knowledge which would help her to bring him back from the nightmare he was obviously in.

  *****

  Sarah heard at the same time as Ray the black cockatoos which congregated in the River Red Gums down by the river. They suddenly began to screech, and like Ray she wondered what it could be that disturbed them.

  Ray looked in the direction of the river and felt a little edgy, remembering the surprise visitors they’d had here in the recent past.

  He stroked his favourite mare. Whistling softly into its ear as it became agitated, and he wondered if there might be a brown snake around.

  Turning away from the horse, he walked from the stables at the rear of the building.

  Stepped through the low doorway, and turned left towards the lean-to, to replace a bridle. Suddenly he stopped in mid stride as he found himself face to face with Horton. Ray was absorbed by the size of the knife which was waving about in front of his face.

  The words, “Are you Simon West?” seemed to echo in his ears, and as he had difficulty forming any words himself, Ray slowly shook his head.

  “What is your name?”

  Ray heard his own speech, and it sounded feeble.

  “Ray.”

  “Where is Simon West?”

  “He’s not here.”

  Ray was getting over the shock of the unexpected meeting. His heart pumped hard in his chest, as he thought that this was probably not a good time to have a heart attack, but then again on the other hand. A slight smile crept to the corners of his mouth at the thought.

  Horton mistook the smile as some sign of rebellion and he hit Ray in the mouth with the fist that held the knife handle.

  Horton wrenched Ray by the shirt front so their two faces were only some inches apart. The tone of his voice raised and some spittle left his lips as he hissed.

  “If you want to stay alive you will tell me where is Simon West is.”

  Ray had a fleeting thought that he was a dead man whatever he said.

 
“I do want to stay alive, but not on your terms.”

  Even Ray was surprised at his few words of defiance, but there was no time for regrets. His mind suddenly registered the sound of his name, as Sarah’s voice called to him from the direction of the house. The red eyed man cocked his ear to listen as Ray took his chance. He swung the horse bridle and relished momentarily at the sound of the steel bit striking the red eyed man in the ear. Even as it did Ray knew that it was only a glancing blow, and he was going to need a miracle.

  None came.

  Horton grabbed at the bridle with his left hand and held it fast as he pulled Ray towards him.

  Ray wanted to let go of the bridle, but it was looped around his wrist and as he was drawn towards the red eyed man he heard his coarse whisper. “Nothing personal mate, it’s just business.”

  He looked into the red rimmed eyes of the mercenary and realized in that instant, with no time for sadness that his life was finally over. Ray saw the man’s right arm swing out to the man’s left. Then felt the heavy bladed knife cut a deep wound which started at the corner of his right eye and travelled across his face to the left eye.

  It cut through gristle and bone, and left his face wide open as the liquid from his eye balls and mucus and blood from his nose spewed down his face.

  In the same movement the knife came around in a graceful arc. It thrust up under his ribs, slicing through his soft belly and pushing up into his chest cavity until at last his heart was divided in two.

  Ray was dying where he stood.

  He would have fallen, but he was hooked on the knife. Horton held him up and twisted the blade savagely in his chest, until tiring of his over kill he let Ray drop in a heap to the ground.

  Horton licked his lips, and unknowingly some blood that had splashed onto them as he stepped over Ray’s body and walked towards the house.

  He stared as with seemingly sightless eyes.

  Windows to a soul filled with intent.

  *****

  Simon started his car, turned onto the highway and drove towards the outskirts of town. He was near the town’s edge when he heard a siren and saw a blue flashing light in his rear vision mirror.

  Its intensity was lost for a moment by a plume of dust which arose from the shoulder of the road as he pulled over. Then another plume enveloped the old Ford when the police car came to a halt behind him.

  Simon watched as the blue uniform approached his car door.

  “I see you have a brake light not working, and you didn’t use your indicator on the last turn you made,” the officer observed.

  Simon felt tethered.

  “I’m sorry officer. The brake light I didn’t know about until you mentioned it, and you are right about the indicator.” Simon admitted to everything in the hope the policeman would just write him a ticket and let him get on his way.

  “You appeared to be in a bit of a hurry too.” Typical police humour to a captive audience Simon thought, and he felt nervous that the man might hold him up forever with his boring talk.

  “I have to get back to my friends.”

  “Well, they will have to wait a little longer then won’t they?” The officer said with a show of teeth.

  The policeman walked around the car checking the tyres before he came back to Simon’s window.

  “I’d like to see your driver’s license and registration papers please?” As Simon pulled his wallet and handed the papers to the man, his heart pumped anxiously for Sarah and Ray. He didn’t think it possible that Sudovich could have another killer here already, but the possibility existed, and because of that possibility there was potential for panic in Simon’s mind.

  *****

  Sarah had heard the horses shy away with fear and their hoofs as they struck loudly against the walls of the stables. From her vantage point at the window the repulsive sight before her eyes made her shiver to the bone. She witnessed, numb with pity, Ray as he dropped to the ground, and then from pure terror as the bloodied being began to walk in her direction.

  Its face swivelled from side to side, as if searching with eyes that were immobile in a head that glistened wet red in the light of the setting sun.

  Sarah snapped out of her trance and ran to the rifle rack, where she grappled with the first gun she could lay her hands upon. She knew nothing of weapons, and didn’t realize she had taken the smallest caliber, a .22.

  She ran back to the window. Where every conviction she’d ever known, every belief she’d ever held about the preciousness of human life came into question. She loaded the gun and aimed to halt the approaching menace.

  The bullet brought a splash of blood from Horton’s shoulder. He broke his pace, but in effect the sound of gunfire spurred him on.

  Sarah was trying frantically to reload, and through her mind’s eye she saw that her knowledge of weapons was greater than her hope of survival. As the gun jammed again, she heard the sound of footfall on the veranda floor boards.

  The sound entered the house and padded across the wooden floorboards toward her. It beckoned, and she looked up from the useless rifle to stare into the gaping hole in the end of the pistol aimed at her. Cursing the man she lifted the rifle, and with all her effort she cast the useless weapon at his demented face.

  As she turned to run to grasp at the second rifle, a gunshot sounded loud in the confines of the room. A split second later she felt pain as her leg buckled under her and she crashed to the floor.

  She fell heavily onto her side, and saw momentarily the sharpened end of her thigh bone protruding through her skin. It advertized a severed artery which offered small spurts of red blood a heartbeat at a time.

  Sarah’s eyes were blind as her tears came in a torrent. The contortions of hopelessness and pain on her face screwed her eyes closed, as her heart felt the coldness of reality.

  Her mind was closed to sorrow, and she clenched her eyes shut against a new pain as a fist bound her hair and dragged her across the room. It was there she struggled, as time was stolen from her by weird Henry, who cursed his luck in damaging her artery.

  *****

  Simon gripped the steering wheel with both hands. He tried to stay calm, but the nerves in his brain cried out to him to drive away and protect Sarah.

  His fingers showed white as they held the steering wheel, and an ache began to spread across his shoulders.

  Panic suddenly took over as he lost his self-control and as if with a mind of its own, his hand left the steering wheel and turned the ignition key.

  He had the car in gear as the engine sprang into life.

  It revved loudly until he lifted his foot from the clutch and the rear tyres spewed pebbles and dust from the road side.

  The pebbles struck the officers legs as he stood inspecting the rear number plate, while the dust collected quickly in his nostrils and mouth as he cursed loudly.

  The blue Ford fishtailed onto the bitumen road until Simon gained control and sped out of town. The car’s engine howled as he raced through each of its gears, until he was at last in the open and hurtling down the road to his destiny.

  The blue flashing light announced its existence in the distance behind him. It gathered momentum and was closer as Simon spun off onto the dirt track which led to the farm.

  With dust spiralling and signalling his direction, Simon made it to the gate. As he left it broken behind him he saw that the highway patrol car was less than fifty metres away.

  It was quickly swallowed up in the swirling dust raised by his churning tyres as he sped ahead.

  Simon rushed through the bush recklessly, until finally amidst a cloud of dust he braked heavily outside the farm house.

  The patrol car slewed to a stop immediately behind him.

  Simon left the car and was about to run to the house when a gunshot rang out. He looked up to see a half-naked man run across the front veranda and leap out onto the lawn.

  The man’s right hand raised a pistol in his direction, and as it
fired, Simon saw also, something carried in his left hand.

  A brief glimpse of a small, blood smeared yellow object was given to him before a second shot forced him to retreat.

  The blue Ford’s windshield shattered as he ducked behind its open door. Another bullet left its mark by gashing the bonnet.

  Simon screamed.

  “Sarah.”

  More gunfire bellowed from behind him as the policeman opened up on the man who ran away. The fleeing man flashed red in the late afternoon sun. His blood covered body moving quickly toward the stables, from where he could make a frantic dash to the river.

  Simon stared bewildered as the figure ran on. Firing its pistol as it went, but showing no sign of faltering under the blaze of fire that followed from the policeman’s gun.

  A second policeman had come from the patrol car. He too opened fire, but to no avail, until finally the two of them gave chase, loading their weapons as they ran.

  The noise of the gunfire exploded in Simon’s ears, and each new explosion, as they echoed in his brain heightened his fears.

  He turned toward the house hoping Sarah would run to his arms. Show him she was alright, but she did not appear, and as tears of despair watered his eyes he ran to the house.

  Quickly crossing the veranda, he entered the old building. Where slowly his eyes grew accustomed to the subdued light of its interior, and through his tears he saw her as she lay. Like some wet red puppet which had been discarded to lie crumpled on the floor.

  His first glance assured him that she was lost, there was too much blood.

  Her head lolled to one side, and she stared through Simon with sightless eyes. Every memory he had of her suddenly blemished by this single second in time.

  He turned away to retch.

  While the vision disappeared from his eyes, it stayed stained firmly on his mind. He gurgled, and a moaning sound came from deep within his chest as he dropped to his knees and bowed as if in prayer.

  With the coolness of the wooden floorboards on his forehead, he rocked softly as his sobbing slowly steadied to a whimper and he finally broke down.

  END OF PART ONE

  PART TWO