by Perry, Kyle
The branch gave way and Madison screamed as the vehicle rolled towards the cliff.
CHAPTER 52
MURPHY
Con had huddled behind a snow gum, ready to return Eliza’s gunfire.
Gabriella hid behind another: she didn’t even have a weapon.
Eliza ran towards a ridge where the gums grew thicker, carrying the rifle across her chest, her white dress billowing.
Murphy sprinted towards the girl in the Landcruiser, slowly rolling towards the cliff. He reached it less than ten metres from the edge, slapping his hands on the tailgate. He heaved, digging his heels into the rocky ground, but it was no good. The Landcruiser pulled him forward, boots slipping.
He yelled, forearms bulging, shoulders burning.
Con appeared beside him, adding his strength to Murphy’s. The Landcruiser slowed but didn’t stop, the sound of their sliding feet mixing with crunching tyres and Madison’s screams.
Behind them: gunfire. Con must have given Gabriella his Glock.
‘Madison, is the door locked?’ shouted Con.
‘Yes!’ screamed Madison.
‘We’ve got to chock the tyres!’ shouted Murphy. There was no way to fight the momentum of the Landcruiser.
‘With what? No time!’ shouted Con. ‘Madison, you need to break your thumb and pull your hand out of the cuff!’
‘It’s too tight!’ screamed Madison. ‘Oh, Jesus, help me! Help me!’
Con was red from the strain, patting at his pocket with one hand while he pulled with the other. ‘Where are my handcuff keys!’
And Murphy remembered. Con didn’t have keys to the handcuffs because Murphy had them. He’d used them that morning to release Butch from Eliza’s bed.
The cliff was approaching. Beyond it, the fog and the mountains, swollen clouds and a perfect pastel blue sky.
They had maybe five metres.
Sara.
He remembered the dream. It had been warning of this the whole time . . . This was the moment of his death.
No time to think, then. Bite the bullet and go for it.
‘Hold it steady, mate,’ Murphy said. He pulled himself up onto the tray of the vehicle.
‘What are you doing?’ shouted Con. The Landcruiser lurched forward without Murphy’s strength.
Time slowed down.
He pulled the little key out of his pocket. He pushed it into the cuff attached to Madison’s wrist.
Madison clung to him. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ She was no longer the larger-than-life mastermind: just a terrified teenage girl.
Murphy turned the key in the cuffs and they sprang open. He cradled her like a baby.
You’re out of time.
The Landcruiser tilted, front wheels over the edge. Con’s shout was drowned out by the roar of metal scraping the cliff edge.
Murphy heaved Madison off the back of the tilting tray, throwing her like a haybale, and she grasped onto the very edge of the cliff, one leg dangerously over the precipice until she scrambled all the way up.
The back tyres of the Landcruiser met the brink of the cliff.
Murphy was ready.
This was it.
He was going to see Sara again.
Already the wind of the cliff whipped his plaid shirt, his beard, his tear-filled eyes. Just like he had dreamed.
The tray tipped further.
‘Jump, Murphy!’ Con’s voice broke through his trance. He reached across the back of the tray, raised up on his toes. ‘Jump!’
Murphy ran to the tailgate and jumped towards him.
Time froze.
Wind all around him.
Sky above.
Sharp rocks way below.
The cliffside.
Adrenaline.
The dream.
Madison.
Jasmine.
He hung suspended, afloat, pitching forward – this is it, Murph – and then Con’s sweaty palm grabbed his wrist.
And time sped back up.
Con heaved and Murphy’s whole body slammed against the cliff face, his feet dangling free, the wind knocked out of him.
Con was dragged forward, flat on the ground, his chest digging into the rocks at the edge. He looked down at Murphy, teeth gritted, wind ripping at his hair.
Murphy’s feet scrabbled against the cliff. He couldn’t find purchase. Their sweaty hands were starting to slip. Murphy gripped Con’s forearm with his other hand. Con slid forward another inch.
‘My weight is gonna pull you over,’ shouted Murphy. ‘You have to let me go.’
‘Shove your heroics up your arse!’
‘You have to find Jasmine.’ Murphy slowly took his hand off Con’s forearm.
‘You absolute cockhead!’ Con reached down with his other hand and gripped Murphy’s shirt. ‘Don’t let go!’ Murphy let go of him, but Con held tighter. ‘Don’t you bloody dare!’
A strange, detached peace had swollen in Murphy’s chest.
And then Madison was there, hair blowing in the wind, her arms reaching down and pulling on Murphy’s shirt. ‘This is not what Jasmine wants. Jasmine needs you!’
Murphy’s peace grew tattered at the edges, a ripped white flag. The terror of the drop began to fill him. A long fall and a painful end. Never seeing Jasmine again.
Sara wouldn’t ask me to do that, would she?
He scrabbled for purchase again, grabbing Con’s arms, suddenly hooking his boot over a small rocky spike that hadn’t been there before.
Wind and sky, rock and death. Lichen, a feather caught in a spiderweb.
‘Push, Murphy!’ shouted Con.
‘I am bloody pushing!’ shouted Murphy.
His hand landed on another rock, he found more purchase for his boots, and with Con and Madison’s help he scrambled until his forearms were over the edge. His fingers dug into the earth, his strength pulling him up to his armpits.
The wind; the bluffs; the laugh of a kookaburra.
Gunfire in the distance.
Con grabbed one arm, Madison the other, and Murphy slid forward, grazing his belly on the sharp rocks.
He rolled the last little way on his side, away from the fall, pressed down into the ground. Gravity was his comfort again, the red dirt home.
The wind blew past his ear. He looked up.
Con lay on his back, his scraped and bloody arms over his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. Madison was in a ball beside them, bawling, blood running from her nose, bruises down her arms, her black school shoes broken at the strap.
Silence.
Then fury from Con, sitting up. ‘You gave up! We’re this close to finding Jasmine and you were giving up?’
‘I dreamed about falling from a cliff,’ said Murphy. ‘Over and over. I thought it was my time to die.’
‘That’s the thing about dreams, mate,’ said Con, panting, slumping back onto the ground. ‘They’re not bloody real.’
CHAPTER 53
CON
Con let himself have a minute more to relive the terror of all three of them almost dying. Then he pulled himself upright.
Gabriella and Eliza were nowhere to be seen, but the earlier gunshot had come from deep in the trees.
Murphy was on his feet, standing over Madison. ‘Where is Jasmine?’ He looked fierce, blood in his beard, his clothes torn and filthy.
‘I don’t know . . .’ said Madison. ‘But Miss Ellis didn’t know, either. I think that means she’s safe.’
‘You have to find her!’
‘I c-can’t. We have to wait for her to contact us.’
Con came over and kneeled by the girl. ‘What about Cierra? Are they together?’ said Con.
‘They’re supposed to be,’ said Madison. She trembled, and whispered, ‘I want my mum.’
Con looked towards the trees. ‘Okay, Madison. You’re okay.’ She clung to him, weak on her knees, and he helped her to her feet. ‘We’ll get you away from here.’
They walked up the dirt track, back to wh
ere they’d parked the car. Con had called the commander on the drive there, the moment Gabriella had received the directions from Jack Michaels, and he knew she would be waiting for an update.
The screen on Murphy’s phone was cracked, but it still worked.
‘Con! Are you okay?’ said Agatha.
He gave her a brief rundown, adding, ‘I don’t know where Gabriella and Eliza are, but they’re both armed. We’ve heard gunshots. We need the chopper here now. How far away is back-up?’
‘Doble’s thrown a massive spanner in the works. He’s used all his crooked buddies here to run interference: saying you’re unhinged, that I’m out of my depth. I’ve finally managed to get things moving, but the squad cars have only just left. Once I regain the situation, he is finished. What kind of state is Madison in?’
‘She’ll survive.’
‘Be kind to her, Cornelius,’ said Agatha, hearing his tone. ‘She’s still just a child.’
He looked over at Madison walking alongside him, staring straight ahead. She was clearly in shock from the trauma. Despite everything, she had helped to pull Murphy off the edge of the cliff, had probably saved his life.
Just a child. What a world we live in now, that a child with a camera can cause all of this carnage.
‘I assume I’m back on this case now?’
‘Don’t be smart with me, detective, it doesn’t suit you. Wait for back-up.’
‘Okay.’
The commander sighed expansively. ‘Cornelius, I know you’re not really listening and are likely going to go and give back-up to Gabriella the moment I hang up. Please make sure Madison is safe first, and get Murphy to stay put too. We can’t afford any more civilian casualties in all of this.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘I’ll be in touch.’
Con hung up the phone and handed it back to Murphy. Madison had gone quiet, retreating into herself.
Gunshots in the trees. Shouting.
Con and Murphy were running back down the track instantly, but Con stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t leave Madison behind, but with Eliza about, nowhere was safe for her, not even the car.
‘Come with us: you can’t stay here alone!’
Madison had gone pale – she didn’t look well – but she nodded, racing up beside him, and the two of them ran into the bush after Murphy.
Immediately they were enveloped by cider gums, their sap filling the air with a scent like honey, their leaves casting mottled shadows on the undergrowth of ferns and fallen branches.
Deeper in the trees, a scream of pain.
Con ran beyond Murphy, dodging branches and massive dolomite rocks. They were now in a grove of gnarled, ancient pencil pines. The buzzing of flies filled the air. The Great Western Tiers, an impenetrable maze of trees, scrub and stone.
Con’s partner was in there somewhere, with a murderer.
‘Gabby!’ shouted Con. He set off into the bush in the direction he thought the cry had come from, Madison and Murphy following close behind.
‘Gabby!’
‘Con!’ Gabriella sounded distant. He beat his way towards the sound of her voice, his shirt getting caught and tearing on branches.
Gabriella burst out of the trees ahead. Her face was covered in scrapes, her hair a mess of cobwebs and pine needles. ‘I think I hit Eliza in the shoulder,’ she said, panting, eyes bright. ‘I winged her, but then she lost me. She’s somewhere that way.’ Gabriella pointed in the direction she had come from. ‘I need your help, before she disappears for good.’
‘We can’t take Madison into a firefight,’ said Con.
‘Okay, you stay with her, then,’ said Murphy, sprinting off in the direction Gabriella had pointed.
‘You don’t even have a gun, idiot!’ said Gabriella, chasing after him.
Within seconds Con lost sight of the two of them in the trees, before he could even say a word.
He looked across at Madison, frustrated to be the one burdened with her. ‘Let’s head back to the trail and wait for the squad cars.’
Madison looked up at him, a glimmer of boldness back in her eyes. ‘And which way is that, detective?’
Con looked around him – an instant thrill of panic. He had no idea. He didn’t even have Murphy’s phone.
There were no markers anywhere, just endless ancient pencil pines, keeping watch.
CHAPTER 54
MURPHY
Murphy and Gabriella crashed through scrub and over fallen logs, startling wallabies into the undergrowth, each thump from their jumps bringing terror: was it Eliza’s rifle? Something else?
‘Stay close to me,’ said Gabriella, her forehead bleeding from a long scrape. ‘She’s desperate now.’
‘You sound like you’re enjoying this,’ said Murphy.
‘It’s the end of the chase. Of course I am. Plus, if I catch Eliza, I’ll be able to hold it over the commander and the whole department for the rest of my life. They kicked me off the case.’ She glanced across at Murphy. ‘But I need to do it without anyone else getting hurt. Seriously, stay behind me.’
‘I don’t care if she shoots me. Hell, I’ll be bait. Just find Jasmine.’
‘Don’t give me that horseshit. Jasmine needs you alive, she needs her dad.’
Murphy grunted.
‘Is your head in the right place for this?’ said Gabriella. ‘What if Eliza tells us Jasmine is already dead?’
‘Then I’ll kill her.’
‘You know I can’t let —’ began Gabriella, but Murphy had abruptly stopped. She slowed down. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘Eliza’s been shot . . .’ he said slowly. ‘For all she knows she’s dying.’ He looked back. ‘All she cares about right now is killing the person responsible for Denni’s death. She’s gonna go back for Madison.’
The blood drained from Gabriella’s face. She looked down at her Glock. ‘Con’s unarmed.’
CHAPTER 55
CON
Con bounced on the balls of his feet, looking in the direction Gabriella and Murphy had gone. He was terrified for them, feeling useless, lost among the pines, no idea how to reach the path. He usually had an excellent sense of direction, but this bush was labyrinthine.
Madison lay down on a fallen tree, her arm over her eyes.
Con heard the crack of a twig right behind him and then the butt of a rifle crashed into his head.
He fell to his knees, but fought to stay upright.
He turned, vision blurry, to see Eliza standing over him, her white dress bloody and torn. The rifle was trained on Con’s chest, held in the crook of her elbow, even as her other arm hung limp at her side, blood dripping from her fingers.
A strange anxiety filled him. The anxiety of impending, inevitable death.
But still, Con crawled towards Madison, who looked at Eliza in horror.
‘Come here, Madison,’ said Con, voice shaking.
‘Don’t move, either of you,’ said Eliza.
He clawed his way forward, the world lurching in a swirl. He reached out a hand and Madison helped him to his feet, her terrified gaze never leaving Eliza.
‘I don’t want to kill you, Con,’ said Eliza. ‘Just her.’
‘Eliza, listen to me,’ Con called, throwing his voice as far as he could, letting it echo through the trees. His head pounded from the effort.
‘There’s no point shouting. Madison will be dead long before they find us.’
‘I won’t beg anymore . . .’ Madison clutched Con’s side. ‘Now everyone will know it was you.’
‘And you’ll be dead,’ said Eliza.
Con pushed Madison behind himself, sucking in shallow, nauseating breaths.
‘You have every right to be angry,’ said Con. ‘Every right to blame Madison.’
‘Shut up, Con,’ said Eliza. ‘I know you’re stalling.’
‘She’s the monster who convinced Denni to kill herself.’
‘And Bree,’ said Eliza. Her grip on the rifle wavered as she stepped closer.
‘It’s not your fault,’ he said. ‘I feel it too. The guilt.’
‘What are you talking about?’ She was close enough now that he could see her chalky white face, her bloodless lips.
‘There was a case in Sydney. A man led a group . . . they tortured and killed young girls. It was my job to save them, but I was too late. I was too late.’ He stepped towards her, losing his balance, but Madison grabbed his waist from behind, supporting him.
‘What are you playing at, Con?’ she said, the rifle now aimed at his head.
‘More guilt now . . . If I found you sooner, I could have saved Madison.’ He stepped closer again.
‘It’s not your fault,’ said Eliza. ‘It’s hers.’
‘I wasn’t good enough. I was too late. I’m the reason they’re dead.’
Eliza breathed heavily. ‘Stop stalling and move, Con!’
‘Every word is true.’ He was close enough now. He pressed his forehead against the muzzle of the rifle. ‘It’s okay to feel guilty. It’s all okay.’ He screwed his eyes shut, fighting the wave of dizziness. ‘But it’s not your fault,’ he whispered.
He felt the rifle trembling in her arm.
Then it steadied.
‘I won’t let you talk me out of this. I’ve come too far.’
She struck his face with the barrel of the rifle. Hard. His nose broke and blood flooded his mouth, but he remained standing. With the last of his strength he turned and embraced Madison, smothering her body with his. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered in her ear. His blood ran onto her schooldress.
‘I don’t want you holding her when she dies, Con,’ called Eliza. ‘I want her to die alone.’
His vision turned black at the edges. ‘Don’t do this, Eliza.’
‘Fine. Then you’ll both die.’
The sound of the shot cracked through the trees, stirring a nest of flame robins into the air.
‘No!’ shouted Con. Madison whimpered below him.
But no pain came. He could feel Madison’s heart pounding in her chest.
He turned, bleary eyed. Eliza had fallen to her knees. A ray of sunlight fell through the canopy, lighting up her face. Blood ran out of her chest, a red flower blooming on the front of her dress. The rifle lay on the ground beside her in the pine needles.
