by Perry, Kyle
Only Eliza could hear Madison’s screams. She smiled as she drove towards the bluffs.
CHAPTER 50
CON
‘Monica’s done a runner,’ said Murphy, returning to the kitchen. ‘I had a look, and she’s taken Tom’s four-wheel drive.’
‘Can’t say I blame her,’ said Con. ‘She’s probably gone to join the search for Wren. Don’t worry, I called Gabby and she’ll —’
There was pounding on the front door.
‘Speak of the Kiwi.’
Gabriella marched in, chest swollen in outrage. She pointed a furious finger at Murphy. ‘You! Dickhead! Steal my car again and I’ll kill you!’
‘Alright, Gab,’ said Con. ‘Listen —’
‘Don’t you start!’ she said, turning her finger on Con. ‘You’re only inviting me back into the club now you’re off the case too. Don’t think I don’t know!’
Murphy stood at the window. ‘Sorry to interrupt your couple’s quarrel, but there’s a kid messing around with your car, Con . . .’
Con swore and ran out the door, Murphy and Gabriella close behind.
‘He’s jumped over that fence,’ said Murphy, pointing.
‘Just leave it,’ said Con. ‘We have other things to worry about.’
‘Look what he’s scratched into your car . . . Kundela . . .’
‘The Kundela Game!’ Gabriella crouched down, running her finger over the scratches. ‘This is the same as on my car . . . K-U-N . . .’ She swore. ‘It was Georgia’s brother, Carl Lenah.’
‘What’s the Kundela Game?’ said Murphy.
‘We need to find out,’ said Gabriella. She ran for the fence. ‘Catch him!’
Cursing, Con ran out onto the street, sprinting along the footpath, trying to cut off the fleeing vandal.
It was Gabriella who caught Carl Lenah, two blocks away, behind a green bus stop shelter. Con and Murphy quickly caught up.
Carl was a short but stocky lad, face as angry as a thunderstorm. He was wearing thongs, which had allowed Gabriella to catch up to him. She pushed him up against the wall of the bus shelter.
‘Stay away from me, pigs,’ said Carl.
‘He’s drunk,’ said Gabriella. ‘You can smell it on him.’
‘I’m not drunk. Piss off.’ He struggled against her.
She pushed his shoulders harder against the wall. ‘Tell us about the Kundela Game.’
‘Piss off,’ said Carl.
‘We need your help, Carl,’ said Con.
‘I’m not telling you shit.’
‘Hold him still, Gabriella,’ said Murphy. He squared up to Carl. ‘Listen to me, kid. My daughter is missing. She’s dead for all I know. What does the Kundela Game have to do with Madison and Jasmine? Tell me.’
‘It has nothing to do with Jasmine,’ said Carl.
‘So what is it to Madison?’ said Murphy. He pulled the Glock from the back of his belt and pressed it up against Carl’s chin. ‘Tell me everything.’
‘Hey, hey, hey!’ shouted Gabriella.
‘What the hell, Murphy,’ said Con. He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless that he hadn’t taken the gun from Murphy after the situation at Eliza’s house.
‘I have nothing else to lose,’ said Murphy without emotion. He peered into Carl’s eyes, who had gone still. ‘I don’t mind going to jail for killing anyone who gets between Jasmine and me.’ He pressed the gun harder against Carl’s chin.
Murphy’s bluffing, Con realised, and he put out a hand to stop Gabriella from disarming him.
Carl hesitated. ‘It was . . . it was Bree who told me about it . . . me and her were a bit of a thing.’
‘You were dating?’ said Gabriella.
‘Shh,’ said Con, ‘let him finish.’
‘Don’t shoosh me, Con. You’re not in charge anymore,’ snapped Gabriella. ‘Relationships are important.’
‘Bree said Madison had some kind of . . . I dunno, freaky spiritual shit going on’, said Carl. ‘Madison reckoned she’d found a spirit guide, “Kundela”, who could show her the way through portals on what she called the Sacred Cliff. The girls started having these weird nightmares and all that. Bree and Denni both came to me. Because I’m Aboriginal they thought I’d know what was going on – but my sister wouldn’t have a bar of it. It’s all bullshit, obviously. There’s the kundela bones, but not bloody portals: there’s nothing Aboriginal in it. At all. But they must have got in my head, because I started getting the nightmares too. I was so pissed off, because this stupid white girl was using our history for her psych hippie shit . . .’
‘And then?’ said Murphy.
‘Madison said Kundela asked her to start the game. There’s this website she made. You put in your details and you send . . . you have to send Madison a nude, and then you get your first dare. They start off simple – going the night without sleep, burning a hundred-dollar note – and then they start getting bigger, like shoplifting, or . . . burning bigger stuff.’ He snuck a glance down at Murphy’s gun.
Con could feel the tingle of new connections, new theories. ‘Keep talking, Carl.’
‘My latest dare was to scratch “KUNDELA” into a cop car and take a photo. But then they said it had to be one of your cars: Badenhorst or Pakinga. Madison sends the tasks, but she reckons she’s getting them from Kundela – which is all bullshit – but when she starts “channelling Kundela” her voice changes and everything. And this Kundela tells us on the other side of the portal we’ll be kings and queens. But before that afterlife, you have to keep proving your worth.’
‘You know it’s bullshit, but you’re doing it anyway?’ said Murphy.
Carl bared his teeth. Murphy clamped the pressure point at the top of his trapezius – as always, shock and adrenaline were the best truth serum. Carl stammered, ‘Madison’s blackmailing me. The day they went missing, up on the trail, I was the one who knocked out Miss Ellis – that was the dare Madison had given me. Now she’s making me keep playing, else she’ll expose me.’
‘You’re the one who hit Eliza?’ said Gabriella.
‘Madison made me! She’s an animal. She’s got all those girls wrapped around her finger. Denni was convinced: she finished all ninety-nine of the tasks Kundela gave her, and then she killed herself on the mountain. Because that’s the way to get through the portal: the hundredth task. I bet that’s why Bree killed herself. I didn’t know what my sister was doing, but there’s no way that’s —’
A police car pulled up beside them, the siren giving a short whoop.
Murphy kept his gun against Carl’s chin. ‘Did Jasmine play the game?’
‘No. Bree said Jasmine didn’t know anything about it,’ said Carl.
Constable Cavanagh stepped out of the police car and Murphy pulled the gun away from Carl’s chin, although he kept a hold of him.
‘Con? Gabriella?’ said Cavanagh. ‘Someone reported a confrontation here. They found your Eliza – she was at the hospital with Wren. Except it was Monica, not Eliza. She was just driving Eliza’s car.’
‘That’s impossible, Monica was with us,’ said Con, turning to Murphy. He saw the realisation dawn in Murphy’s face, just as it occurred to him. ‘We’re idiots.’
Murphy loosened his grip and Carl scrambled away, sprinting off down the road.
‘We let her go,’ said Murphy.
‘That’s not all,’ said Cavanagh. ‘Someone saw Eliza and Madison in Tom’s Landcruiser, headed up to the Tiers. When they heard the report of people chasing Eliza, they called it in.’
Something occurred to Con. ‘Could Eliza know more about the Kundela Game than she told us?’
‘If she knows the Kundela Game is the reason Denni killed herself . . .’ said Gabriella.
‘Then she blames Madison for Denni’s death,’ said Con.
‘Where would she be taking Madison?’ said Gabriella.
‘The cliff from the video,’ said Con, while at the same time, Murphy said, ‘These so-called Sacred Cliffs.’
&nbs
p; ‘How do we find those?’ said Con.
‘Jack Michaels will know,’ said Gabriella, pulling out her phone.
‘Jack Michaels?’ said Con, a prickle of guilt. ‘I forgot all about him.’
‘Well, he’s awake and recovering,’ said Gabriella waspishly. ‘Luckily I remember all the important witnesses. This is why you need a partner who’s a detective, not a drug dealer.’
‘Your civilian pet was Eliza, so I don’t think you can talk,’ said Con.
‘Drop us off at Eliza’s house – I need my car,’ said Gabriella to Cavanagh, climbing into the squad car.
Con held out his hand to Murphy. ‘We’re gonna need that gun, Murphy. I can’t have you walking around with it.’
‘Who do you think I’m gonna shoot: Madison or Eliza?’
Con kept his hand out.
Murphy handed the Glock over.
‘Cavanagh, when you get back to the station, bag this as evidence but . . . keep Murphy’s name out of it.’
They all climbed into Cavanagh’s Stinger, Gabriella calling the hospital to speak to Jack while the sirens blared.
CHAPTER 51
ELIZA
Eliza slowly brought the Landcruiser to a stop. Ahead of them, through gaps in the trees and out over the high cliff, were the ancient Tasmanian mountains, clouded, the deep blue of eucalyptus mist. They were on a downward slope of red dirt and jagged rocks that led right to the cliff’s edge. Eliza pulled the handbrake and switched the engine off.
Madison beat on the top of the cab, screaming. To Eliza, it was a beautiful sound.
The edge of the cliff was perhaps 20 metres away.
Eliza climbed out of the Landcruiser.
‘Please, Miss Ellis,’ said Madison, her make-up ruined by tears and sweat. ‘Please . . .’
Eliza found a thick branch fallen from a snow gum, covered in leaf litter. When Eliza lifted the branch, Madison started shouting, ‘No, no, no, no!’, but Eliza only dug it in deep right in front of the rear wheel.
She opened the back door and retrieved Tom’s hunting rifle from beneath a blanket on the back seat. She slung it around her shoulder and moved around to the front door of the cab, reaching inside to release the handbrake.
She locked the doors and then walked to the edge of the cliff.
‘Please! Miss Ellis, please!’
The mountains. The breeze. The bush and rocks and bluffs. The blue sky and pearl clouds. A wedge-tailed eagle wheeling on the wind.
Eliza threw two sets of keys over the edge of the cliff, the handcuff keys and the Landcruiser keys.
‘Please . . . Oh, God, help me!’ screamed Madison.
Eliza walked back behind the Landcruiser, the slope setting her above Madison, and sat on a rock at the side of the road. She rested the rifle across her lap.
For a short time she watched Madison sobbing, pleading. Then she said, ‘I’d like to leave this town. There’re too many memories here.’
‘Miss Ellis . . .’
‘Let me tell you the best memory. It was my big sister Kiera arriving with Denni. I knew. The moment I saw Denni, I knew. I wanted her – as a child. I wanted to save her, nurture her, give her what I never had. Limestone Creek was supposed to be a fresh start for Denni. A new life.’ Eliza looked Madison in the eye. ‘And then she met you.’
‘Miss Ellis, please —’
‘Before Denni came . . . I didn’t feel lost, exactly,’ Eliza said, her throat bone dry, ‘but I felt like nothing I did mattered. No legacy. A dry womb. I had only my students, my work. But Denni – Denni was a treasure.
‘You took her under your wing, and I thought, “this is perfect”: Madison Mason, the most popular girl in school, the leader of the pack, taking an interest in my Denni. You, Jasmine, Georgia, Cierra, Bree. Good friends, the perfect gang. It was like a cloud had lifted – I can’t imagine what Denni went through under Kiera’s care. Nothing good.’
Madison clung to the cab guard, wretched. ‘Please . . .’
‘But then the clouds came back. She was depressed, angry, emotional, distant. It crept in slowly, along with her new obsession: the Hungry Man. That was when your subscribers boomed. Denni loved telling me all about it, your ghost-tour videos. I’m not sure why, but that’s when Tom started to take an interest in her.
‘You didn’t just know about Tom’s interest in Denni, you wanted her to go for it: you encouraged her. I know, because Bree told me. She told me many things, once Denni died . . . after you murdered her.’
‘You texted me,’ said Madison suddenly, gasping. ‘On Georgia’s phone. You took that phone off Georgia and pretended to be Bree. You pushed Georgia off the cliff?’
Eliza was silent. She held onto the gun.
‘You killed Georgia!’ She yanked at the handcuffs, then began kicking the cab guard.
‘I wanted all of you dead. Eventually.’
‘What else have you done?’ She tried to chew at the links in the chain.
‘You isolated Denni. All of you. Spread rumours. Made her feel worthless. Made her think that all she was good for . . . was to die. To leave this world behind.’
Madison slumped to her knees in the tray of the Landcruiser. ‘Please . . .’ she whimpered.
Eliza stood up and pushed against the ute with her foot. She felt the resistance of the branch against the tyre, the only thing holding the car in place on the gentle slope. She saw the terror in Madison’s eyes, and it went some way towards soothing her. Denni had suffered for months at Madison’s hands. It was only right that she suffer too. Eliza wanted her to know not just what awaited her but why this was happening. That it was Eliza who was the one doing it; she was in control, like she always had been.
‘You killed Denni,’ she said simply.
‘I didn’t,’ wailed Madison. ‘She told me she saw him! She saw the Hungry Man! She killed herself because of the ritual!’
‘And you invented the ritual.’
‘I didn’t! Kundela told me! He told me about the ritual!’
The girl really should have chosen a better lie.
Eliza pushed on the ute again, harder. The branch creaked. ‘You know, Bree and Denni were closer than you realised. Everything you told Denni, Denni told Bree.’
‘Yes, Denni was convinced she met the Hungry Man, one night in the bush, and barely escaped with her life. You convinced Denni that the Hungry Man would never stop hunting her, that killing herself was the only way to escape. If you see the Hungry Man’s face, he’ll never allow you to escape.
‘Bree told me she was going to be your second victim – that you’d arranged for her to kill herself, too. I didn’t want her getting cold feet once they found Georgia’s body – she would realise what I’d done – so I spoke to her and simply brought forward the day . . .’ She sighed. ‘If only Georgia hadn’t been the one you gave the phone to, I might not have had to . . . but Bree’s death needed to work right. She told me all about your plan . . . you’d kept her intentions secret from the other girls: she would die on the Hanging Tree on the third day of the disappearances, like some anti-Christ, for all to see her pain and to cement the mythology you were creating . . . to bring you even more followers.
‘I arrived at the Hanging Tree just in time to watch her do it, you know.’ She scowled, waving a hand beside her ear, swatting away the discomfort that memory brought. ‘Once she died, I had to climb up after her. I dragged her body higher, using the rope to hide her in a crook of the tree, up high where no one would see. It wasn’t time, yet, for everyone to see her: I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by taking it further than you had planned, especially if the police realised she’d been using my key to hide in the school.’
Madison’s face was a sheen of sweat, stark with the horror of understanding what Eliza was truly capable of.
‘She’d already written a message on the wall at the school, so I wrote some more to throw them off further. A few days later, the day they released me from custody, I went home to get Denni’s Hu
ngry Man warding dolls – the statues you’d made her carve – and I took one to your house, another to Bree’s body. And then I texted you, pretending that Bree had taken the phone instead of Georgia. Letting you know the deed had been done.’
Silence. Madison quaked, weeping, and looked off over Eliza’s head and into the distance in vain hope of rescue. Her eyes widened briefly, and then she brought them back down to meet Eliza’s. She could hardly believe it: there was new fire in the girl’s eyes. She straightened, brushing dirt off her school dress.
‘I didn’t kill anyone,’ said Madison. ‘You hear me? Denni killed herself, you stupid bitch. Denni was messed up: she was always going to kill herself. She wanted to kill herself the moment she got to Limestone Creek. You should be thanking me for keeping her alive as long as I did. She finally decided she couldn’t do it anymore and I helped her find peace. I helped her find purpose.’
Eliza dug her fingernails into the stock of the rifle. Madison lifted her chin in defiance. ‘My online presence is the greatest tool anyone from this nowhere town is ever gonna have: the amount of good I can do is more than you could even understand. Denni was already dead, you just refused to accept it. But you . . . you killed Georgia. In cold blood. You’re the real murderer.’
Eliza stood close now, resting her foot on the tailgate of the Landcruiser.
‘And Jasmine and Cierra? Did you kill them too?’ said Madison.
‘Don’t act dumb. You’re in contact with them, somehow. And now you’re going to tell me where they are, or I’m going to kill you.’
‘Go to hell, Miss Ellis.’ She put her head back and screamed. ‘Just shoot her already!’
What?
Eliza spun.
There, in the middle of the track, stood Con, Gabriella and Murphy.
Con’s pistol was aimed at her.
Eliza swung the rifle up and shot at them. It went wide.
The trio split into three directions.
Eliza turned and pushed the Landcruiser with all her strength, a savage grimace on her face as she caught Madison’s eyes.
