Butcherbird

by Cassie Hart

  A cloud passed over the sun. Jena shivered and glanced around her. What had felt like a lovely day seemed to feel darker now; the isolation of the environment pressed in on her and she shivered harder, thinking about all the things that could happen in a place like this, where no one could hear it.

  ‘Come on!’ Cade shouted from the water.

  She turned to look at him waving her in. The cloud passed over and Jena wondered if she was letting her memories cloud her present. She stripped down to her underwear, trying not to imagine unseen eyes watching her, and headed for the water. It was cold on her toes, coming straight down off the mountain and without the heat of summer kissing her skin. Still, this had been her idea and she couldn’t chicken out just because it was a little chilly.

  Jena waded in, picking her way over the smooth rocks until the water was up to her knees and she could see where the river deepened. She took a deep breath and dived in, the cold water shocking her body, forcing the air from her lungs. She pushed hard with her arms, back to the surface, bursting through, hair already tangled around her ears and in her eyes.

  Jena pushed it back, wiped the droplets of water from her lashes and looked around, trying to spot Cade. Then he grabbed her from behind, dunking her under the water. She spluttered, waving her arms around to push him off. He was laughing when she surfaced, so she splashed him in the face, laughing in return when he frowned.

  ‘So, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?’ he said, lips curving into a wicked grin.

  Jena squealed and started swimming away, a huge smile on her face. It was nice when he was playful like this, like back when they’d first hooked up, before they’d moved in and they’d struggled with money. He was still fun – that was why they were together – but it was a bit harder to be playful when you were close to having your power shut off and had eaten two-minute noodles or toast for dinner for a month straight.

  Cade caught up, his hands catching her feet, dragging her back towards him. Jena flipped over so that they were face to face and wrapped her legs around Cade’s waist. It pulled them both down so that their chins were barely above water, but they grinned at each other. Cade pulled her closer and she threaded her arms around his neck and kissed him, his lips cold and damp from the river.

  ‘Now that’s what I was hoping for,’ Cade murmured against her lips, kissing her again, dipping into her mouth with his tongue. She kissed back, hungrily, suddenly desperate for his touch. She could feel his cock growing against her.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, her voice husky. She let go of him, pulling him towards a grassy bank. They kept going until it was shallow enough for him to stand and then he pushed her up against it, biting her neck gently, cupping her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple through her soaking bra.

  ‘I need you,’ Jena said. ‘Please?’ She pushed him back, bending down and trying to drag her underwear over her hips, but it was hard, the fabric clinging to her skin. She got one foot free and decided that was good enough. Cade had wrestled his boxers down enough for his cock to spring free and she gripped it in the water, stroking him up and down. His skin was warm even in the cool of the water.

  Cade slipped his fingers inside her and she moaned, pushing her breasts against his chest and hooking a leg around his waist, pulling him closer. ‘Come on, Cade, I want you, now.’

  She gripped the grass on the bank with both hands, arching her body, wrapping her other leg around him too. Cade opened her folds and pushed, heat into heat, the cool water around her body a stark contrast to the warmth inside her. The water splashed as they moved together and she tilted her head back, bracing it against the bank, letting her eyes drift to the sky above, the white clouds scudding across the vibrant blue backdrop, until her muscles clenched around his shaft as her orgasm rolled in and his breath turned ragged and he stiffened, pumping inside her once, twice more.

  ‘Damn, Jena. That was—’

  ‘Great,’ she said, a breathy laugh escaping her as she pulled herself upright, let him slip from her body along with his fluids. ‘And now I’m hungry.’ She gave him a last playful splash and headed for the shore. He followed after her, pulling her to his chest and kissing her neck.

  ‘Didn’t I satisfy you?’

  ‘Oh, you did, but now I need sustenance or you’re going to have to carry me back to the house.’

  He scooped her up, carrying her to the grass, and then dumped her onto her feet. ‘Okay, definitely eat something. You might be skinny, but I’m not strong enough to carry you that far.’

  She slapped him playfully on the chest, and then walked to their gear and dug around for something to eat. They ate their snacks and drank the coffee from the flask before Cade went to relieve himself in the bush.

  Jena had just finished dressing when she heard a shout.

  ‘Oi! You! What do you think you’re doing here? You’re trespassing on private property, and if you don’t bugger off immediately, I’ll use this.’

  She turned towards the noise to find an angry-looking man with a shotgun at his side. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Her eyes were fixated on the barrel of the gun, her thoughts spinning backwards in time to when her father had hunted possums and wild goats across the farm. Guns had terrified her then and they still did now.

  ‘Well, get moving!’ the man yelled at her again. He was walking closer, and Jena wanted nothing more than for Cade to come back. Stupid man was probably watching them now, waiting for this to blow over. He’d never been one for confrontation.

  She sucked in a lungful of air and set her shoulders back, steeling herself. ‘Wait, wait. Just. Hang on.’ She raised her hands, palms out. ‘My family owns this land. I don’t know who you are, but I’m not the one trespassing here.’

  ‘What?’ The man stopped his approach and slung the gun over his shoulder. ‘What are you talking about?’ He scrubbed his face with one hand, his frown deepening, and then his mouth dropped open. ‘Oh, shit. Jena?’ He shook his head, his stance relaxing. ‘I’m so sorry, kiddo. I didn’t recognise you. It’s been a long time. I hadn’t heard you were back. You grew up!’ He grinned. ‘Flo is going to want to hear about this. You’ll have to come over for dinner and tell us what you’ve been up to.’

  Flo ….

  It was Jena’s turn to frown. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t … I don’t know you, do I?’

  ‘I guess you were just a wee thing,’ the man said. ‘I own the farm next door to yours. The Mertenses. You used to play with our boy Reggie. Was a long time ago now. Rose leased a lot of her land to us years ago, so when I saw you here, I assumed the worst. I’m real sorry, Jena.’

  ‘Reggie.’ She shook her head, having trouble placing the name, and then she saw him, red hair and freckles, geeky glasses to match. They’d spent a lot of time eeling together, until the fire. ‘How is he?’ She literally hadn’t thought about him in years, relegated him to the past, along with everything else about this place.

  ‘Oh, you know, married a lovely Wellington girl, and they settled there. He’s got a couple of kids now; he’s a lawyer. Can you believe it?’ Mr Mertens shook his head, but his broad grin said he was proud. ‘Country life was never going to be it for him. Jeremy’s taken over most of the work now, I just keep the goat population to a minimum and give him a few pointers here and there.’

  ‘Jeremy.’ The younger brother, friends with Joel. He’d always been covered in mud or dirt. ‘I’m glad they’re doing okay. And you and Flo too. I didn’t know Rose had leased the land. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known. I just ….’ She shrugged, spreading her arms to take in the river. ‘We had such good times here and I wanted to revisit that.’

  ‘Oh hon, I know. I bet.’ He looked like he wanted to hug her, but he kept his distance. ‘Hey, look. You can go anywhere you want, okay? I’ll let Jeremy know you’re here and he won’t give you any bother. I meant what I said, though. Flo would love to have you around for dinner. It’s been a long time.’

  ‘Thanks,
Mr Mertens. I really appreciate that.’ She smiled at him, though she had no idea if she’d actually follow through. Though maybe it would be nice, having a meal with people who knew her as a kid.

  Before.

  ‘John,’ he said with a nod. ‘You’re all grown up now, you can call me John.’

  ‘Thank you, John.’ She gave him a little wave as he turned away, but then he swung back, his face more serious.

  ‘Stay away from the swamp near the back of the property, though.’

  ‘Where the reeds are?’ Jena asked. She’d hoped to go there, had always liked it as a kid, felt like she could be transported to another world through the doorways they’d created in the reeds.

  ‘Yeah, that’s the one. It’s not safe these days; things keep getting sucked down. We’ve got stock well away from there now and, well ….’ He pressed his lips together, but then continued. ‘Your family’s seen enough tragedy on this farm, don’t need to go adding to it. Weird place.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.’ Jena would, but that wasn’t going to stop her from going there if she wanted to. ‘I guess Rose has your number? I can just call to let you know when dinner would suit.’

  John’s smile returned. ‘She does. Look forward to it.’ He gave her a wave and then headed back towards the track.

  Jena let out a long breath. That had been … well, all kinds of things. Aside from the name on the letterbox being familiar, and the house, she’d forgotten all about the actual family who lived there. It was like she’d left the farm and forgotten everyone associated with it. Every time a piece of the past came back to her, she felt more complete, but also felt a tide of sorrow at the good things she’d forgotten along with the bad.

  She turned to scan the trees, looking for a sign of Cade. He came out a minute later, looking slightly abashed.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. He sat down to pull his shoes on, so she did the same.

  ‘How long were you watching?’ she asked.

  ‘By the time I saw him, you two seemed to be having an okay conversation. I figured I’d leave you to it.’ He looked over at her. ‘You were okay, right?’

  ‘Yeah, I was fine,’ she said, though ‘fine’ wasn’t quite the right word. Still, she shrugged it off. ‘The neighbours lease this part of the farm and he thought I was trespassing until he worked out who I was. He’s invited me over for dinner sometime.’

  ‘Sweet.’ Cade stood up and grabbed the pack, swinging it onto his back before reaching for her hand. ‘Let’s hit the road.’ He grinned.

  Jena nodded, letting him lead the way through the trees and back to the track. She couldn’t get her mind off the conversation with John, though, and thoughts of the swamp.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  WILL

  Will climbed the ladder to the mezzanine of the barn. The building was probably fifteen years old. He’d found it strange that Rose would have a replica of the old barn built on the exact spot where such a tragedy had occurred, but perhaps it was her way of erasing the past and pretending it hadn’t happened.

  In the few weeks he’d been here, he hadn’t managed to uncover any information about that night. Rose never spoke of the past, even when he tried to open her up by talking about his own stuff; beginning with the fact that his girlfriend of five years had kicked him out and he was homeless. All that had really got him was this space in the loft, where he was keeping his possessions until he had some other place to go.

  Rose had already said he could stay on if he wanted. At least until they sold the farm. The real estate agent had come out that morning to go over some contracts and take information. In all likelihood the neighbouring farmers would absorb this place, leaving the house for Jena.

  If she wanted it.

  And that was a big if. Rose hadn’t made mention of it to her, and from the way Jena had been behaving since she’d got here, he wasn’t sure she’d welcome it. She could always sell. It was none of his business.

  He crossed to his filing cabinet and dragged a drawer open, pulling out a sheaf of folders and taking them to his makeshift office – thankfully the moving guys had helped drag this stuff up here – spreading the folders across the desk set at one end of the mezzanine.

  Benedict. Jones. Sylvester. Young. Charleston. Vincent. All families who’d been involved in strange incidences across the region. It was a longer list than others might have made, but he had a knack for squirrelling information that didn’t make it into the police records; for learning the rumours and gossip, and he wasn’t prepared to toss out any of these just because no one else could see there was something more going on.

  And then there was his file.

  He flipped it open, looking at the photos of his mother, some from when she was younger and happier, and others that he’d taken leading up to the time of her death. The shadows under her eyes, the strange glimmer in them and the way her body had seemed to morph over that last week, shoulders hunching, limbs seeming longer because of all the weight she’d lost.

  Everyone had said that she was just too sad to go on. That losing his father in the car accident had broken her somehow. But he knew that wasn’t it.

  She hadn’t killed herself. At least, not willingly.

  Something else had happened, and maybe one day he’d know what. The skin on his neck crawled and he turned, but there was no one there. Nothing. The place was as empty as it had been since he’d arrived on the farm.

  Yet he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was going on. Something that was crawling around the edges of his vision.

  Something that had stirred when Jena got back.

  He’d chosen this spot to set up his gear because it was where the fire had been. As soon as he’d stepped inside this place, he could feel it. A thrum of energy in the ground. A sinister vibe, a holdover from that night. It was warmer than it should be, like residual heat was held in this place.

  Either that, or he was just obsessed and desperate to pretend this was all real. That’s what his ex, Rebecca, would have said.

  Sometimes he wondered if she was right, but he could never quite convince himself to stop looking.

  He’d set up some equipment in case there was any paranormal activity – an EMF meter, digital thermometer, EVP devices, and of course video and audio recorders set to trigger at the first sign of movement. But nothing had happened so far. Not a trace of a ghost or dark energy. Nothing to suggest anything weird had happened here. The only footage he’d captured was of himself coming and going, and the occasional bird getting through a gap and flitting around the rafters.

  He grabbed the Benedict file and spread the pages out on the table, staring at the faces of Jena’s family even though he saw them every day in the hallways and on the mantles in the house. He pulled out Mark, Rose’s son-in-law, and pushed the rest of the images away. It had to be him. Didn’t it? Or was it something to do with Jena?

  Or both.

  The files said that there had been blood on Jena’s clothing, but they didn’t identify whose it was. She’d been attacked by birds, so it could very well have been her own. There were traces of soot on her hands and feet too.

  He riffled through the papers to find the photo taken of her after the incident; she looked dishevelled, exhausted. Empty. But not in the dead, soulless way his mother had; in a way that said she’d been stripped of everything she cared about. Jena had just been a kid, and he didn’t think it could have been her. In fact, Rose had said that morning that it wasn’t Jena’s fault.

  He knew this, because he’d left a recording device in Rose’s room, set to start whenever someone spoke. But that was all Rose had revealed. Jena only had more questions, no resolution, and there was nothing he could do to help her with that. Not without giving himself away, and if he did that now he’d never find out what had happened.

  He skimmed over the rest of the notes; the police had done a shoddy job, putting it down to an accidental fire caused by an electrical
fault or something. The only reason Rose gave for them being in the barn in the first place was that they were having a campout, which wasn’t unreasonable. Camping in a barn sounded like something he would have got a kick out of as a kid too.

  But the blood ….

  And why was Jena not in the barn? And how come no one else had managed to make it out alive?

  It bugged him so much that no one had bothered to dig deeper. Rose had put up a barrier, sending Jena away so that she was out of it, refusing to comment on that night herself, effectively shutting down the investigation. It was a terrible accident. A family tragedy, and anyone who tried to pry deeper only found a well of sadness. He knew Rose was sad, but why wouldn’t she tell anyone what had happened?

  He shoved the papers into a pile and tapped them against the table to line them up before putting them back in the folder, more annoyed with himself than anyone else. He was here. Right where it happened. Rose was getting on in years, and between the pain medication and the return of Jena, he’d thought she’d be letting things slip by now. But her mind was a steel trap.

  And Jena. The elusive Jena, she was here too, and he’d barely managed a single meaningful conversation with her.

  He had to do better. He had to find something or Rebecca would be right – he was just throwing his life away on the spooky stories of his childhood. Looking at the files again, here in the barn where it had happened, he wondered what it was that had so sparked his imagination as a kid. Why had he been sure something more had gone on here?

  He put the files back into the box, so frustrated that he didn’t even bother to arrange them in alphabetical order. And then he did the rounds of his equipment, checking to make sure that everything was still operating and the extension cords hadn’t crapped out again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JENA

  The barn loomed ahead of them, demanding her attention. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. The clouds had come over, banishing the sun, and she was pretty sure it would rain in the not-too-distant future.