SHELTER

by Boston, Claire

  “Get in.”

  As long as she was alive, she could escape. Something would come to her. She wasn’t letting this self-entitled asshole ruin her life. She swung her leg over the side of the aluminium boat and sat on the middle seat, on the far side. A man sat by the small outboard motor, a beanie over his head and his face covered with a black scarf. He wore all black like the other man. She faced away from him, wanting to see where they were heading, and helped Annisa aboard. The waves splashed over the sides of the boat, wetting her pants and the wind blew colder. Henk lifted Bethari in and the three women huddled on the seat together as Henk climbed in the front. The man holding the gun pushed the dinghy away from the shore and walked away.

  The motor roared to life and wind throbbed around her ears as the dinghy slowly made its way through the waves and swell. The slower they went the better.

  Annisa clung to her and Zamira patted her knee. The little boat couldn’t travel very far or very fast. By the time they reached the shore again she’d have a plan.

  They headed directly out to sea, past the waves breaking, not turning to hug the coastline. Probably rocks close to shore.

  All along the coastline it was dark, not a single car headlight or house. Henk held the gun loosely in his hand. She twisted, pretending to lean in to say something to Annisa and glanced at the skipper. One hand held the side of the dinghy and the other was on the motor. No gun.

  Which left Henk. How fast could she pounce? Could she get the gun from him?

  Bethari moaned and Annisa hugged her.

  A dark shape coalesced in front of the dinghy. A fishing boat, one of those trawlers that went deep out to sea to catch their livelihood. No lights shone aboard but as they approached, Henk flashed his torch three times.

  An answering flash.

  Her muscles stiffened. Not good. A boat like that could take them further and faster, it could handle the big waves the Southern Ocean threw at them. But she might not survive the swim back to shore, not in these waves and the others wouldn’t either.

  The dinghy pulled alongside the fishing boat and Henk threw out a line. Someone on board caught it and Henk switched his torch on. “Time to get off.” The light illuminated the metal ladder on the side of the boat. He hauled Bethari to her feet. She swayed, moaning again and then vomited all over him.

  Zamira’s smile froze on her face as Henk backhanded Bethari and she fell overboard with a splash. Henk wiped at his jacket. “Looks like it’ll be only two after all.”

  Bethari’s head popped above the waves and she shrieked, splashing hard before going under again.

  No. Zamira couldn’t let her drown.

  She dived in after her. The ice cold hit her, compressing her lungs. Her clothes immediately soaked up the water, weighing her down. She fought to the surface and gasped, a wave filling her mouth with water. Coughing and struggling against the pull of her clothes she scanned frantically for Bethari.

  A hand.

  She swam hard, fighting the swell and took a deep breath as the hand disappeared. She dived after her, reaching, stretching, the water pitch black. Her fingers brushed skin and she kicked again, clasping Bethari’s hand. Her lungs squeezed and demanded air. She changed direction, swimming up to the faint glow from Henk’s torch. Her clothes battled against her, pulling her down.

  With another hard kick, her head breached the water and she gasped, pulling Bethari above with her. Bethari sucked in air and clung to Zamira, mumbling in panic, trying to climb on top of her.

  Zamira fought her, fought to stop going under, but it was no use.

  The water closed over her.

  Chapter 18

  The shrill wail of a siren pierced through the roar of the flames and Jeremy turned as the fire truck pulled to a stop and his colleagues jumped out. That didn’t take long. How long had he been standing here?

  Lawrence strode over while others worked to get the hoses out. “What have we got?”

  “It’s contained. I don’t know what started it, but I smelled petrol.”

  “Deliberately lit?”

  He shook his head and then fear gripped him. Henk! He shoved his hose at Lawrence. “Where’s Zamira?” He scanned his yard. Fetch was in the ute watching proceedings, but Zamira wasn’t with him.

  Surely she wouldn’t have gone back into the house. He ran towards it, burst through the back door. “Zamira!”

  No answer.

  Quickly he searched the rooms. Empty.

  He fumbled in his jacket pocket for his phone. It wasn’t there. He’d given it to Zamira.

  He ran back outside to Mai who was manning the pump. “Mai, I need your phone.”

  She handed it to him. “Code’s one three zero seven.”

  He plugged it in and dialled his number. “This phone could not be reached. Please leave a message.”

  He swore. He had reception around his house. Where could she be? He tried again as he checked behind the shed. Nothing.

  “Zamira’s missing,” he reported to Mai.

  “She might be finding another hose.”

  He shook his head. “She’s not answering my phone. The fire was deliberately lit and whoever did it has taken her.”

  Mai scowled and reached into the truck to grab the radio. “We’ve got a missing woman.”

  He needed the number for Agent Franklin. Mai would have Lincoln’s number. He scrolled through the contacts until he found the sergeant’s number and dialled.

  “Mai, do you know what time it is?” Lincoln’s voice was raspy with sleep.

  “Lincoln, it’s Jeremy. Henk torched my shed and he’s taken Zamira. I need Agent Franklin’s number.”

  Lincoln swore. “Repeat that slowly.”

  Jeremy could hear him moving about. “Zamira’s missing. Someone set my shed alight and while I was hosing the fire, she moved my ute out of the way and now I can’t find her.” He took a torch from the back of the fire tanker and strode over to his ute. Fetch wagged a greeting, but Jeremy walked past, scanning the ground for footprints. The gravel provided nothing, but the grasses next to it were flattened. He followed the trail.

  “What makes you think it was Henk?”

  “Someone tried to run her over when she was walking back to my house this evening after helping Border Force. Henk’s the only one with motive.”

  “Has she got a phone on her?”

  “She was using mine to call the fire brigade.” He gave Lincoln his number and continued towards the road. He stopped as he discovered footprints in the grey soil and deep tyre marks as if the car had had trouble getting out of the soft sand. “Lincoln, there’s been a car here.”

  “I’m on my way. I’ll call Agent Franklin and see if we can get a triangulation on your phone.”

  He hung up. Zamira had his phone and he had location tracking enabled on it. He was also connected to an app that linked him to the rest of his fire crew in case they got separated while they were fighting a bush fire. He swiped through Mai’s apps as he strode back towards the house.

  There.

  He clicked on it, held his breath as it came up.

  Six red dots hovered around his house and one red dot east, near the coast. Nothing out there except a couple of fishing spots. Definitely no buildings, no reason for her to be anywhere near there.

  Keys. He patted his pockets. No, Zamira had them. He checked the ute, but they weren’t inside.

  Shit.

  He strode over to the crew. “Lawrence, I need the fast attack.”

  Lawrence glanced at him. “We’re using it.”

  “I need to go after Zamira.”

  Concern crossed his face. “Mate, I can’t let you take it. We’ve got hoses all over the place.”

  Jeremy called Lincoln again. Busy.

  He checked the app. The dot was out over the water. Was the signal dodgy, or had the person who’d taken her put her on a boat? He wasn’t chancing it.

  He scrolled through Mai’s numbers and called her brother, Kim.
r />   “Mai, what the—?”

  “It’s Jeremy. I need Marine Rescue.”

  “Is Mai all right?”

  “She’s fine. She’s at my place putting out my shed fire. Zamira’s been kidnapped and she’s on a boat heading out to sea.”

  Give his friend credit, he didn’t ask stupid questions. “Where?”

  “Around Old Man’s Blowhole.”

  Kim swore. “No boat ramps in that area. We’ll have to launch from town.”

  “I’ll meet you there. Lincoln’s on his way.” He hung up and a car drove into the yard.

  Jeremy ran over, opened the door. “Don’t stop. She’s on a boat.” He showed Lincoln the app. “I’ve called Kim and he’s mobilising Marine Rescue. We’ve got to get to the boat ramp in town.”

  Lincoln handed Jeremy his phone and accelerated away. “Call Franklin back. It’s the last number I called.”

  He dialled and relayed the information.

  “Where’s the boat ramp?” Franklin asked.

  He gave her directions.

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  Lincoln turned onto the main road and put his foot down, accelerating fast. “You think this is payback?”

  “Maybe.” But why take her onto the ocean?

  His blood went cold. Had they killed her? Were they dumping the body?

  He checked his phone again. The dot still moved away from shore. “Can’t you drive any faster?”

  Lincoln grunted, but didn’t answer. As they reached the town, Lincoln drove straight past the turn off to the boat ramp. “It’s that way!”

  “I need my gun.” He pulled up in front of the police station and ran inside.

  Jeremy’s foot tapped on the ground. What was taking him so long?

  Lincoln returned, wearing a vest and carrying another. He tossed it at Jeremy. “This is for you.”

  A bullet proof vest. “You think we’ll need it?”

  “I’m not taking any chances. I’d leave you behind if I didn’t think you’d steal the first boat you found.” He drove fast through the quiet streets and pulled up at the Marine Rescue boat ramp. Lights illuminated the area and the boat was in the water, people aboard. Jeremy and Lincoln ran down the jetty. Three Border Force agents were on board and Kim was behind the wheel.

  Lincoln called out, “Kim, you don’t have to come. This isn’t Marine Rescue business.”

  Kim glanced at Jeremy. “I know. But you won’t find a better skipper.”

  Lincoln nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Jeremy handed Mai’s phone to Kim. “Thanks, mate.”

  Kim grinned. “I can’t let you have all the fun.” He turned to Lincoln. “Cast us off.”

  Jeremy shrugged off his heavy fire jacket and fastened up the bullet proof vest to wear beneath it. Kim handed him an inflatable life jacket. “Put this on too.”

  The others already wore them. As he did as he was told, he moved over to where Franklin and Lincoln were speaking.

  “I’ve called it in, but it could be more than an hour before we get air support.” Her voice was raised above the engine and the wind.

  “Why take Zamira?” Lincoln asked.

  Franklin glanced at Jeremy. “Henk might be involved in a trafficking ring as well. Some of the men we interviewed mentioned women often arrived at the property but never stayed long — a month or two at most — and they didn’t see them again.”

  Jeremy froze. “What happens to the women?”

  “Probably sold to brothels. We’ve got some evidence that women are traded, those taken from Australia are sent overseas and they get foreign women in return.”

  His teeth clenched hard enough to shatter and he hit the side of the boat.

  No. He wouldn’t let that happen.

  He would save her.

  Jeremy spun on his heel, returned to Kim. “Can’t you push this thing faster?”

  ***

  Zamira struggled, prying Bethari’s hands away from her shoulders, gritting her teeth and kicking towards the surface. As her head broke through the waves, she yelled, “Don’t panic.”

  Hands grabbed Bethari’s jumper and hauled her aboard the dinghy. Zamira trod water, fighting the drag of her clothes and the swell of the waves. She panted, the chill seeping into her bones and reached for the side of the dinghy, but it shifted in the waves. She wiped the water from her eyes as she met Henk’s gaze. Would he leave her here?

  He only needed two women.

  Her body shook in the cold.

  She lunged for the boat and this time caught the side. Bethari was being helped onto the fishing boat so Zamira pulled herself along the side towards the trawler.

  Henk followed Bethari up the ladder and tossed the rope back.

  Shit. Stay with the dinghy, or go after Annisa? Her arms trembled. She couldn’t pull herself up. The dinghy skipper pried her fingers off the edge of the boat. She lunged for the trawler ladder, her fingers closing around the cold metal. She panted as the engines next to her roared to life. She had to move. Reaching up, she found the next rung and lifted her feet. Slowly she climbed as the trawler motored forward.

  Her foot slipped on the ladder, her shin crashing into a lower rung and pain bursting through her. She gritted her teeth and hauled herself up and onto the fishy-smelling deck. She lay there panting and Henk smiled down at her. “Well done. Now come with me.”

  Where were Annisa and Bethari?

  As the boat motored through the waves, Zamira followed Henk below deck. The lights were on and for anyone paying attention it appeared to be a fishing boat going to work.

  There must be a radio on board.

  A cramped bunk room off the corridor contained Annisa and a wet, bedraggled Bethari. Annisa threw herself at Zamira, hugging her.

  “I’m OK.”

  Henk threw a couple of towels at them. “Make yourselves comfortable. You’ll be in there awhile.” He shut the door.

  Zamira reached for the handle… nothing. The door sat flush against the wall and was the width of one of the panels. If she hadn’t seen it open, she would have thought the room had no exits. It was probably invisible from the other side — the perfect smuggler’s room.

  Shit. What other options did they have?

  Two bunk beds had rugs on them, but there were no windows and only a tiny vent in the floor.

  She shivered. First they needed to get dry. She stumbled as the waves rocked the boat side-to-side. Bethari moaned, her face pale.

  Then she vomited all over the floor.

  ***

  Salt water and vomit was all Zamira could smell. Bethari had thrown up until she had nothing left and now the vomit moved over the floor with the crash of the waves. Annisa sat on the bottom bunk with her knees hugged to her chest.

  Zamira used one of the towels to wipe Bethari’s mouth. Bethari shivered, her skin pale and goosebumps on her arms. She had to warm them both up, otherwise they could freeze to death.

  She ignored the vomit and squeezed Bethari’s arm. “You need to take off your clothes.”

  Bethari glanced at the door and shook her head.

  “If you don’t, you could die.” She unzipped her rain jacket and hung it on the bunk ladder and then stripped off her wool jumper. She hadn’t taken the time to put on a bra or a shirt. She squeezed out the wool and Annisa helped, taking one side and twisting it in the opposite direction.

  Zamira dried her top half quickly and ran the towel through her hair. To really warm up she should get under the bedsheets naked, but she wasn’t willing to risk being so vulnerable. She dressed again, her teeth chattering so hard together they might break. She had to get warm. Quickly she slid off her shoes, taking off her pants and socks and wringing them out. Her hands shook as she dressed, her skin like ice. Bethari watched, still shivering.

  “Your turn.” This time Bethari raised her arms so Zamira could pull her jumper off. They repeated the process, squeezing as much water as they could out of Bethari’s clothing before she dress
ed again and lay down under the sheets on one bed. Zamira dragged the rugs off the top bunk and piled them on top of her as well.

  She wanted to join her but they had to escape. She held a hand against her stomach. The bump of the hull against the waves rattled her teeth further and the sway made her nauseous. She breathed deeply, and then retched at the vomit stench. She clenched her teeth. Now wasn’t the time to be weak.

  What else was in the room?

  The bunks were made of sturdy wood. She lifted the mattress on the top bunk, looking for anything that might help. A couple of pillows, sheets and a rug. Nothing sharp, no kind of weapon.

  The cotton pillowcases were probably too breathable to suffocate Henk even if she managed to hold it over his head for long enough.

  Bethari moaned and retched over the side of the bunk.

  Zamira winced and checked her temperature. Warmer. Her skin was no longer covered in goosebumps.

  “Zamira!” Annisa waved Jeremy’s phone at her.

  Her heart leapt. It had a signal. She hit the emergency link and dialled triple zero.

  It rang.

  “Do you need police, fire or ambulance?”

  Her heart racing, she said, “Police.”

  Chapter 19

  Jeremy scanned the ocean around him, but he couldn’t see any lights, any boats, anything at all.

  They had to be somewhere.

  Kim touched his shoulder. “The sea’s rough tonight. It’s easy to miss a light in the waves, but we’ll find her.”

  A radio crackled behind him and Lincoln moved forward into the cockpit. “Can you repeat that?”

  “We’ve had an emergency call. A woman says she’s been kidnapped and is on a fishing boat with two other women.”

  Jeremy’s heart leapt. “Did she give a name?”

  “Zamira Musa.”

  She was alive. Thank God.

  Lincoln flashed him a smile. “Roger that. Do you have a location?”

  Coordinates came through and Kim adjusted the direction they were heading. “How far are we?” Jeremy demanded.

  “About ten nautical miles,” Kim answered. “But this boat can move faster than a trawler.”

  Lincoln went to relay the news to the team of Border Force officers while Jeremy continued to scan the ocean. Ten nautical miles was still a big distance. How far out before they hit international waters? Would they be forced to turn back?