by HMC
Angus nodded. ‘We can’t just walk into the police station. Remember what Karl said – they’re everywhere.’ He accelerated around the corners of the bush track and manoeuvred the metal beast like an artist with a paintbrush. The trees scraped the sides of the Mercedes and they soon found themselves turning on to a tarred road.
It looked faintly familiar to Jade. ‘I think I know where we are. This is a good way away from the old man’s house. We’re just off Wattle Creek.’
Angus smiled but his sister didn’t return the favour. He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder to soothe her. ‘We’ll be all right,’ he said.
‘It’s not me I’m worried about.’
The young tracker remained behind, as the older one disappeared up the stairs to Karl’s second floor. While he hoped Jade and Angus were out to the road by now, it couldn’t hurt to give them a little more time.
‘Where are they heading next? If they’re on foot they won’t get too far. Are they out in the bush there, Karl? If so, good. We already have a mate out there keeping an eye.’ Karl kept a straight face, but his heart felt like it stopped in his chest. What had he done? Had he sent them into what was meant to be his own undoing? They were his only chance to save Sam. Karl was a master at hiding his anxieties and spoke without fear in his voice. He moulded it, instead, into anger.
‘Did you break my gate down?’ Karl trundled over to the front door and opened it to take a look out. ‘How unnecessary. It wasn’t locked.’
The young one put his gun up to the back of Karl’s head. He turned around and glared down the barrel. He wasn’t going to let some over-zealous kid terrorise him. Not after everything he’d been through.
‘Do you know what you are fighting for?’ Karl proceeded to walk towards him, ready for a stand-off. The young one had a striking kind of face. It was slightly pointy and slim. Karl thought of himself at that age, driven, serious. Not much different from the lad standing before him.
‘I’m not fighting for anything. I’m doing my job. You’re making me a little impatient now, Doc, and I really feel like pulling this trigger. It’s been a while since I got to shoot someone.’
‘You will be doing me a great favour, son. I no longer want to be associated with the disgusting things that your boss gets up to. You wouldn’t understand just yet, but you will. All this will come back to haunt you. All of it.’
‘I don’t have a boss.’ He pressed the gun into Karl’s forehead.
‘They’re all your superiors, every one of them. Even your friend upstairs owns you. None of them will ever let you out of this, unless you’re a cadaver at the bottom of a lake. You’re theirs now, forevermore. Even trackers are tracked by The Society.’ He paused to drink the remainder of his tea. ‘You think you’re free to come and go as you please, but you belong to them, and you’ll never get out.’
They didn’t hear the gunshots.
Angus put his foot down on the pedal and the V8 engine roared back at him as they drove along the backstreets of Fairholmes. For now, they’d established that their car was probably unknown to their pursuers and it would be prudent to take it slow and steady. This was an extremely difficult notion for Angus.
The only problem was their means of transport was a lot more conspicuous than they could’ve hoped for. Karl would’ve more than likely headed straight out of Fairholmes in it and therefore not been so severely out of place.
‘Where will we find this Constable Travis guy?’ Jade thought for a moment, back to one of her psychology courses – Lifespan Development. Her lecturer explained that if you were to look for someone you would usually find them at one of three places. Humans truly were hopeless creatures of habit.
‘My guesses would be at his home, at the Fairholmes Police Department, or in his patrol car.’
‘Well, we only know the whereabouts of one of those,’ Angus said.
‘Karl said not to trust the police, except for Travis. I don’t know about going to the station.’
A dark Ford Falcon crept up behind them. It veered left and right as if it were trying to pass them, riding right on their bumper.
They were coming to collect Jade and Angus Thatcher.
Her brother took a look in the rear view mirror. ‘Already? They must’ve seen us drive out of the garage.’
‘Step on it.’
‘Roger that.’ Angus put his foot down on the accelerator and the vehicle snarled down the road, filling the air behind them with dust and pebbles.
So much for slow and steady.
The Mercedes rocketed along the country road, landscape blurring as Angus ran through the gears.
The Falcon sped up to give chase, but it had no chance.
Lights flashed and a siren screamed from their pursuers’ vehicle.
‘Oh, god, just what we need. Police in an unmarked car.’
‘I don’t give a shit if it’s the Queen of England. You remember what Karl said. Trust no one.’ Jade didn’t falter. She’d come too far and no longer cared about badges. Once upon a time she was naive enough to think that the police were always on her side.
Angus drilled the machine around the bends. He took an exterior approach, with threshold breaking learned from Gran Turismo Two and paddy bashing in his old 1982 Gemini.
Her brother tensed up, as they both realised the random direction he had chosen was up a treacherous mountain. ‘Great,’ he breathed.
‘You know this road, Angus! You’ve done it a thousand times,’ she called out over the howl of the engine. He was too busy focusing. Jade took out the Remington, having known she’d probably have to use it one day, and that this day was as good as any.
They were not far up the mountain yet, so if the response car behind them rolled off the road, they wouldn’t have far to fall. Angus glanced at her and saw the gun in her hand. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I don’t know, Angus. You think I have any idea? I haven’t read the bloody car chase manual! All I can think of is that Karl said not to trust the police.’
‘Yeah, but on the other hand, you could be shooting at legitimate cops.’ Angus sped up and the car lurched sideways. Jade hung on to the handle above her head to steady herself.
It was so easy to judge others in terrifying situations – to tell them which way they should’ve gone or ask why they made such stupid choices. When you were in it, truly in it, making decisions was nowhere near as easy as it looked from the outside.
‘I’m doing it.’ She opened her window.
‘Oh fuck.’ Angus was white with panic.
Jade pointed the gun out the window, aimed as best she could, and shot. The sound was deafening and the kickback scared her a little. She had fired a gun plenty of times before, but she could never get used to the thunderous, scorching boom. It made her want to close her eyes and hold her breath. Jade hadn’t been aiming at the car behind them. She was simply sending a message: they were armed and they weren’t going down without a fight.
Just then a voice came over a loud speaker.
‘Cease fire, immediately! Pull over now! This is the police!’
‘Not gonna happen, mate.’ Angus didn’t waver and sped up the mountain. The twists and turns were tight and frequent.
The Ford, no match for the Brabus, vanished behind a bend and didn’t reappear.
They drove on for over half an hour with no one behind them before they let themselves relax a little. They’d driven through a small mountain town called Clapping and turned at three different roundabouts. With each new twist and turn, Jade felt more and more at ease. The Ford didn’t stand a chance of keeping up with her brother. She turned to him.
‘What now?’
‘We spend a bit of time up here I guess. We’ll go and find your friend Travis tonight. Better to find out where he lives and visit in the dark don’t you think?’
‘Ab
solutely.’
Sunlight peeked through the gaps in the canopy. The Australian bushland spread over either side of the road, and above them, like a welcoming arch. The quiet shade and cool air made Jade feel secure. Lawyer vines and creepers twirled around the old gums and paperbarks. The ground was covered in native grasses and layer upon layer of leaf litter.
It was breathtaking and it reminded Jade of her childhood. She remembered the smell of rain as she ventured through the undergrowth with nowhere in particular to be. There was no set time to be home, as long as it was before the sun went down. She would watch, delighted, as Angus would throw rocks into the creek, catch tadpoles and jump from rock to rock. A much simpler time – just like mother and grandmother would profess about their very own childhoods. Were we all doomed to become more and more complex?
This was why she returned to Fairholmes. To try to regain some of that happiness that had been here, just where she’d left it.
Angus spoke, and he had to repeat himself before getting her attention. ‘I think they’ve given up.’
She took a deep breath and let herself float back to reality. The sober look on her brother’s face worried her. He glanced up into the rear view mirror.
‘Balls!’
Screeching tyres ripped along the road, as the Ford Falcon appeared behind them. Angus crunched down hard on the accelerator too fast, as he attempted a straight line through the apex and made his first driver error in more than a decade.
He lost control of the steering wheel.
The Brabus was swirling around in a circle, sliding dangerously along the edge of the cliff road. When the Mercedes finally came to a crashing halt, they landed up against the rocky side of the mountain. The air-bags popped to life and Jade hit it hard. She brought her hand to her forehead.
She looked over at Angus. He was out cold.
Jade reached into her pocket and pulled out her gun. Her side door was ripped open and a curt voice barked at her. ‘Drop your weapon or we’ll shoot.’ Half of her attacker was hidden behind the car door. If she were to continue holding onto her gun, they’d shoot her. She dropped it and put her hands up.
Someone else wrenched open Angus’ door, and a voice called, ‘It’s critical! Why didn’t you just stop, Jade? Damn it.’
She didn’t respond, as two strong hands pulled her upright.
The silenced Beretta 96 went off in his hand before he had even fully realised he was pulling the trigger. One shot would’ve been enough, but Sabatino had always found it difficult to restrain himself.
Dr. Karl Phillips fell to the floor, leaving this world without so much as a whimper, his blood sprayed across the carpet, ancient coffee table, and the little tea set that sat upon a silver tray. Sabatino looked at the body and felt nothing. It was like looking at a sandwich at lunchtime, when you were neither hungry nor full.
The tracker checked Karl’s pulse. The old doctor lying on the floor in front of him made a few sharp twitches – but he was definitely dead.
Sabatino couldn’t fathom why someone hadn’t done it sooner. Karl Phillips had been far more trouble than he’d been worth. Sometimes Sabatino didn’t quite understand the people he worked for and their need to keep certain people alive. Waste of time and resources.
The tracker pulled out his driving gloves and placed a hat over his head. Unfortunately he’d already been in the room for several minutes now and had probably left hair and fibre everywhere. He hadn’t intended to kill anyone today, and so didn’t come fully prepared. Besides, a good percentage of the police in Fairholmes were in their pockets anyway, so, it didn’t matter too much that he’d left trace evidence. They more than likely wouldn’t bother looking. But you could never be too careful.
He moved through the house, searching for any evidence that might incriminate his employers: documents, photos, journals. He found nothing. Frankie would be upstairs doing the same thing and Shanghai would be out searching for the Thatcher pair. If a trio of trackers couldn’t find two civilian idiots, then there was no hope for anyone.
Sabatino came upon a hidden door in the kitchen and followed the staircase down to a garage. The tracker examined the tyre-impressions left in the dirt and followed them down the yard to a clearing. He opened his mobile phone and Shanghai answered in half a ring.
‘They’re North, North East into the bush. It links to Harvey Road, near Wattle Creek.’
Shanghai didn’t respond. The phone went dead.
Sabatino found Frankie upstairs, leaning over a box in a closet. The old man had carpenter’s crack as his pants rode down, just a bit, as he bent over. Sabatino smiled. Frankie was Sabatino’s idol. Though old enough to be his father, his mentor was still faster than Sabatino was – perhaps not physically but certainly mentally.
Frankie didn’t look away from his documents as he spoke. ‘You’re on edge. I can feel your anxiety from here. People who are on edge make mistakes.’
Sabatino tried to relax and let his shoulders go limp.
‘You shouldn’t have killed Karl. Our job was to bring in the brother and sister and leave the old man out of this. Our employer has a soft spot for him.’
Damn. So that was why no one had taken him out yet. That would’ve been handy information to have had about twenty minutes ago.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.
‘Don’t ever apologise!’ Frankie looked up. ‘Your face looks like a slapped arse. How many times have I told you this?’
Sabatino bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.
Frankie continued. ‘Not to mention that Fairholmes has already seen more than its share of merda go down in the last few months. It’s too unusual for this town to see so much death and destruction in such a short time. We’re drawing the attention that we, as trackers, are supposed to eliminate. Your blunders began when you drove through the old man’s fence. You won’t survive long if you keep this up.’
Sabatino was used to this type of tongue-lashing and had been told he wouldn’t last long for the past five years. The problem was he had more of a hands-on approach that didn’t sit well with Frankie. But he didn’t mind. Frankie had been like a father to Sabatino for a long time and that was what father’s did – lectured you.
Frankie had first laid eyes on a fourteen-year-old Sabatino, in court, talking himself out of a first-degree murder charge. He’d watched the entire trial as the jury found Sabatino not guilty of killing his father, as they had believed it had been in self-defence.
It hadn’t.
Frankie scouted potential trackers in courtrooms and prisons. He’d read the boy like an open book and had approached Sabatino with a job offer that the fourteen-year-old misfit couldn’t refuse – lots of money and a place in Frankie’s home. The system never saw Sabatino again after that. He was a face on the back of a milk carton.
They travelled the world together, now, working for the Society.
Frankie stood up and stretched his back and Sabatino found a way to reassure him.
‘Shanghai is following them. They escaped into the bush.’
Frankie nodded in approval. ‘Bene. Good. Go start the car now.’
THE LETTER
Jade awoke in an unfamiliar place. The air was warm and heavy, layered over an odour of mildew. She opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkness. She sat up on the edge of the bed and her feet touched not bare, cold floor, but a soft, shaggy carpet that felt lovely on her feet.
Muttering a quick prayer under her breath, she stood wearily, nursing a pounding headache as she searched the walls, looking for a light switch. She found it at last and flicked it on.
She was in an ancient room. Ornate flora twisted itself around the architraves where the walls met the ceiling. The carpet, of no discernible colour, was torn and fraying at every edge and the room was completely empty apart from the fold-out cot on which she’d been slee
ping. Not only that, but some colour-blind art school dropout had painted the walls in what could only be called ‘putrefying lilac.’
Jade had been pulled from the car. No amount of kicking and thrashing had stopped her attackers and she was bruised on her arms from where she’d been grabbed. She’d had no choice but to go with them; they had Angus and they were armed. They’d also tried to tell her they were on her side. With a gun pointed at her, it was hard to believe.
A horrible realisation gripped Jade Thatcher. Maybe she was going to die here. Perhaps her brother was already dead. She’d never save her patients and she’d become buried evidence, telling her story to the worms.
She didn’t understand, in this moment, why she had a particularly soft feeling for George, as well. Maybe it was because she knew his ultra-hard exterior camouflaged a puppy-like vulnerability.
She thought of Morty, his sun-kissed face and perfect smile her rebound fantasy. Without even knowing it, he’d helped her get over her ex-husband. Even if she never got to touch him or hear his whispered endearments, the adoration in his eyes when he had looked at her had been enough to inspire Jade to get a little of her groove back.
The thought that they may have killed him already was too much to bear. It hurt to think about any of them that way. Time was running out and now she was stuck in a poky room again.
‘Open up!’ Jade beat on the door and shook the door handle, rattling it into a hubbub that no one within hearing distance could possibly ignore.
The door opened.
Surprise froze her in place, and it took a moment before she peeked around the doorframe, and took her first step out into this unknown territory.
The hallway was short and there were three doors along it, each opening softly illuminated. Muted murmurs came from one of the rooms and whoever was in there would’ve definitely heard her battering and shouting to be let out.
But no one had come.
There was no guard at her door, and no video cameras stationed overhead. From here, it seemed to be an escapable dwelling.
