by Nell Grey
His mouth travelled from her lips towards the neckline of her scooped t-shirt. The little gasp she made set him on fire, and his hands found themselves underneath her top wandering their way upwards towards those wonderful breasts of hers.
Dammit!
He pulled himself reluctantly away from her.
“Sorry, Claire. I can’t stop myself from touching you.”
She leaned her forehead against his chest, her breathing thick with lust too.
God! What he’d like to do right now.
“You heard them? We’re both gonna die anyway.”
Shaun groaned.
“You’re killing me too, you know that? We’ve gotta get out of here, even if it's only so I can make love to you properly.”
Claire whispered into his ear, “I might have found a way.”
Chapter 19
---------✸---------
It was three a.m. and Shaun brushed Claire’s head with his lips as she slept. Her head was lying gently against his chest, their backs propped against the wooden sidewall.
He stroked her hair. This wasn’t how he’d imagined their first night together. And God knows he’d thought about it enough times.
Stirring, she came too.
“It’s time,” he mouthed.
He tried to spy out of the crack in the door but in the darkness, there wasn’t much to see. The door was jammed fast, held firm by the block on the outside.
But Claire had already found another way. Two of the back wall wooden panels were pretty rotten. And with the help of the screwdriver and the penknife that were strapped to Shaun’s leg they’d managed to get enough purchase on the rotten edges to lever them loose. It had been a painstakingly slow task to do quietly without the dogs starting up or the men who’d been walking around hearing them, but he was certain it would work.
Together they worked carefully now, in the dead of night, shifting the two loosened boards free and placing them softly onto the ground.
The tiny noises caused a snuffling next to them, but the dogs had got used to their scratchings and soon settled back down. He could hear the rain drumming down onto the shed roof. It sounded like it was coming down hard.
“You ready?”
She nodded.
Shaun went first, squeezing through the gap and lifting himself up by the side of the shed to check.
After the hot box, the heavy rain on his face felt delicious, although he knew they’d soon be soaked.
The camp was deathly quiet.
Stretching his hand back into the gap, he helped Claire out into the wet, dark night. She took in deep breaths too, cooling herself then moving with him. Gingerly, they crept to the front of the shed.
Discarded on the ground beside the front door was the familiar plastic bag. Inside, the two defrosted trout. Rawiri?
Whoever it was, the fish would do nicely.
Alert to the tiniest sounds, the hounds had already started moving about and he heard the familiar whine of a dog stretching and yawning awake. In a few seconds, they’d start yapping.
Shaun grabbed the slippery trout and using his knife he cut the fish into pieces, tossing them into the cages for the dogs.
“Watch out for wires.”
In the darkness he plotted their course to the polytunnels, stopping and pushing the screwdriver out into the grass in front of them, meticulously checking for wire. He treated it like a minefield. Getting caught meant certain death.
Claire followed close behind in careful, synchronised steps.
At the house they paused. There were no guards to be seen. Everyone appeared to be fast asleep.
Gesturing, Shaun counted them down with his fingers and they sprinted again. Keeping low they moved between the parked-up motorcycles and then ran clear, through the compound, before diving into the irrigation ditch by the gate for cover.
He looked back.
No lights had come on. The house remained in darkness, the dogs silent.
Feeling with his hands through the grass, he located his rucksack. Taking the quad would have been too risky.
“We’re gonna need to leg it from here.”
“How long’ve we got?”.
“Three, four hours head start.”
“That all? You haven’t got any more handy tools taped onto your leg by any chance, have ya?”
“No, sorry. Only a pair of pliers in the rucksack. In case I needed to cut a fence.”
She kissed him on the lips.
“My hero.”
“What you doing? We gotta go.”
But Claire was on her feet already, climbing out of the irrigation ditch. Droplets of rain ran down her arms and her hair and vest top were soaked through.
“Start running.”
“Claire!”
She put her finger to her lips.
“Shh. Your turn to trust me.”
She turned her heels and began heading back towards the house.
Shaun looked torn
Putting his arms through the rucksack, he didn’t want to leave her but what choice did he have after she’d said that to him?
Reluctantly he started a slow, leisurely jog.
In a few short seconds, Claire was back beside the motorbikes.
Soundlessly she went around each one in turn, finding the spark plug on the top of the cylinder head and snipping off the lead. In a few minutes, she’d managed to disable all but three Harleys. They were parked up close to the polytunnels on the other side of the house. Too close to the dogs.
With her pockets full, she spun on her heels and headed off to catch up with Shaun.
“Thank God!” he whispered to himself as he heard the sound of her feet pounding the ground behind him.
She pulled the plastic leads out from her pockets and cast them into the darkness beside her.
“It’ll buy us a bit more time.”
“Where do you learn to do that?”
She moved alongside him, jogging at a steady pace.
“Motor vehicle class. They packed the naughty ones off to college once a week.”
He shot her a quirky look that sent her heart racing.
“Clever bad girl.”
Quietly, they jogged the track, moving fluidly. Claire had been running most days and she was keeping up easily. The adrenaline and their fate, if caught, spurred them both on deeper into the forest.
“Want a breather?”
The rain had eased off and they’d passed three of his five markers, making good time although the dawn was starting to break now.
Claire bent over and took her breath.
“Let’s carry on, I never want to go back there. And I don’t fancy being cut up and turned into sausages.”
Shaun agreed.
Jogging gently and steadily they found the final marker, turning them across the last much rougher section towards the main road.
“Oww!”
Shaun heard Claire’s gasp and then an expletive behind him.
He turned around. She was flat, face-planted to the forest floor.
“It’s alright.”
She got back up and started walking, but Shaun could see she was in pain.
“Let’s rest up for a minute or two.”
“No bloody way. Come on.”
She kept on walking determinedly through the pain, but he could see their progress was slowing up. She was hardly putting any weight on her foot and when he wasn’t watching she was limping quite badly.
He checked his watch. It was after six. They’d be awake soon and then all Hell would break loose.
“Claire, we’re nearly at the main road. We’re gonna find a spot there and hide in the bushes.”
Her ankle must have hurt because she didn’t look like she was going to argue with him.
The main road loomed up on them before they knew it. Shaun saw the bend in the road a hundred metres in front of them. Behind them lay a good open stretch of road heading up towards the north.
“We’re going to hide
over there,” he pointed.
At the side of the road, as was common in these parts, a deep irrigation ditch ran parallel to the road. Dense clumps of wild lily of the valley growing along it filled the air with a heady, heavenly perfume.
“Okay, this’ll do.”
It was deep, and with some branches to cover them, they’d be hidden from the road.
Taking her hand, Shaun carefully helped her down.
She sat and rested her ankle as he crossed the road back into the forest.
“Bushcraft.”
With his penknife, he’d cut down an armful of large tree fern branches. He then built them a rudimentary hide.
Claire sat beneath their fern shelter slowly drying out whilst Shaun lay against the ditch, keeping a watch out for vehicles through his binoculars.
“Hey, there’s one coming now.”
A wagon was moving along the highway. As it neared closer, he could see that it was a massive articulated truck loaded up with timber.
He waved his arms and thumbed for a lift, but the driver didn’t slow and it sailed past them towards the bend.
“Want me to try next time?”
Shaun shook his head, but deep down he suspected she’d have more luck. Who’d stop for a dodgy looking man coming out of the ditch?
They sat for another hour. The road was deserted. It was a Saturday, but still, they could sure do with some luck.
‘What’s that?... Shaun!”
The unmistakable popping of a Harley Davidson engine punctured the still air.
“Get down.”
Shaun scooted under the fern hide with Claire, not daring to peek out.
The popping soon turned into a rumbling.
His ears tried to differentiate the sounds.
One, two, three bikes?
Claire had slowed them down, but they were out and about now, searching for them.
He felt Claire’s heart beating fast as he held her close against his chest. The sound of the motorbikes was louder now but they’d slowed and their engines were ticking over. They’d stopped as they reached the road.
He held his breath and waited. Would they see the fern shelter across the road from them?
Then, a moment later came a roar as the bikers twisted their throttles and three big engines opened out accelerating around the bend and away.
Shaun let out a jagged breath and Claire gazed into his eyes.
“They’re heading to the lodge, aren’t they?”
She’d read his mind.
“Probably.”
“We going there too?”
Shaun smirked.
“You ever play hide and seek as a kid?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Did ya ever go back to where you’d looked before?”
“So we’re heading to the lodge too,” she said, carefully studying her swollen ankle.
“It’s not too bad, but I’m definitely gonna need a ride.”
◆◆◆
“Straight up, Boss. They’re pakaru. Totally munted. Gonna need some new leads from town.”
“Bugger!”
Cobra King studied the motorcycles coolly. So simple. And everyone one of them so far as he could tell had been rendered useless. Never mind this Irish dude’s beef, Sion Edwards was starting to piss him off too.
“Ah, Boss? Come take a squizz at this.”
He followed the voice back into the front room. On the laptop, the camera they’d recently installed on the front of the property had picked up a shadow. The recording showed that it was definitely the girl. She was the one who’d sabotaged the bikes.
The younger biker chuckled as he watched her in action.
“She’s as mean as, that one.”
King raised an eyebrow too. He liked this girl. She sure had some balls to not shoot through. To come back and do that. The scar he’d seen on her neck was no accident. This one was a warrior. And with Māori blood, no question about that.
“She from town?”
Nik, his right-hand man pulled a face.
“Not whanau, that’s for sure.”
“She been hangin’ around Dargarei? Find out who she is, yeah? Make some calls.”
His thoughts were disrupted by a mobile phone ringing out.
He gave Nik a look, and taking the hint his young, trusted henchman took the phone out of the room to answer the call.
Five minutes later, he came back in. Like his boss, Nik wore a swirling tribal tattoo across his face and neck.
“Flight come in on time?” King asked.
“He’ll be in Dargarei this arvo.”
“Did ya stall him till tomorrow without it looking too suss?”
“Yeah. He’s psyched though, I can tell. Asked me about the meat plant again.”
“What did ya say?”
“Told him to rack off. That we’d let him put a bullet in their skulls and that was it.”
King nodded contemplatively.
“He’ll wait. And he’s not to touch the girl.”
They couldn’t have gone far, but the longer time went on the less chance they had of finding them.
“The boys check the compound again?”
“Ah yeah. They’re on it King, but they’re sure to be gone by now. They could be lost in the forest, but? Up one of them false tracks, eh?”
King agreed.
“They’ll be trying to head back to the lake for their gear and some wheels to get outta here.”
“Hey, boss?”
An older biker, bald with a long beard came rushing in, stumbling a little uncertainly as King stared at him meanly for intruding.
“Uhh, sorry to break in, King. The Harleys at the back. She missed ‘em.”
Chapter 20
---------✸---------
Three more trucks and one ute have passed without stopping.
I can feel my ankle swelling up but I keep schtum about it. It’s not too bad, only a twist. Anyway, we’ve enough to think about without Shaun worrying about that.
“My turn.”
“No way.”
His voice is full of concern.
“What if the gang come back up the road? You can’t move fast enough on that ankle.”
“Watch me.”
I pull myself up from the hide and smoothing out my jeans and t-shirt, I stand waiting for a lift.
Time is ticking by. It’s well after midday and the early summer sun is scorching. A milk tanker gives me hope when it slows down, but it carries on around the bend in front of us.
Another one, this time a delivery van. I smile sweetly and stick out my thumb, but no joy either.
My stomach’s growling and my throat’s parched but the only thing we can do is wait. And hide if we hear the bikes.
“What’s that?”
Shaun lifts the binoculars to his eyes but I can see it clearly. It’s an old hatchback car.
“I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” I tell him, willing it to come true.
“How about we try together?”
“Alright.”
Shaun puts the rucksack onto his back and I smooth down my hair.
As the car approaches, we stick out our thumbs and I take the weight off my bad ankle. It’s throbbing but I’ve no time to feel sorry for myself.
Shaun shoots me a grin.
“It’s slowing down.”
I hold onto his shoulder and hobble with him towards the hatchback that has stopped in front of us.
“You two alright there?”
An elderly gentleman in a checked shirt and jeans that come halfway up his middle is at the wheel.
“Yeah, we’ve been for a hike but my girlfriend’s sprained her ankle. Don’t s’pose we could hitch a lift with ya?”
“Trampin’ eh? Yeah, no worries. Hop in.”
I try to hide the relief flooding through me and send up a silent prayer. Thank you.
“I’m Joe.”
We introduce ourselves quickly.
“Brits, eh? On ya
hols?”
“No, we’ve moved out here.”
“Ah yeah. Wanna ride into town?”
“We’re living out at the lake. Can ya drop us by the road off to it?”
“And have you limping back? No bloody way. I’ll take you.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Good as gold.”
From the back seat, I give Shaun an anxious nudge with my good foot into the back of his seat. I don’t want this nice old chap getting caught up in anything.
“We wouldn’t wanna be puttin’ you out, Joe.”
“Hey! It’s what we do around here. ‘Sides which, if you’re stayin’ at Jake’s Place, I reckon we’re neighbours. I’ve got the section of land next to yours.”
I lean back. There’s nothing more to be said about it.
“Uh, Claire?”
Shaun leans over at me hastily and ducks his head down passing me the rucksack onto the back well of the car.
“Check in my bag for my inhaler, will ya?”
I stretch down to it at the precise moment three Harley Davidson’s scream past us. We’re both bent over. It’s unlikely we’ve been seen.
Shit! That was close.
I pull out a few bits and pieces in the rucksack and look longingly at the muesli bar I’ve discovered.
“Sorry, Shaun, you must have left it at the lodge.”
“You alright, son?”
“Yeah,”
He turns back around and leans back into the front seat, faking it, focusing on his breaths.
“It’s the dust on the roads,” I bullshit, “Makes him wheezy sometimes.”
The old farmer looks at him, worried.
“I’ll turn down the air.”
“Thanks, Joe. He’ll be alright. He’s been doing this breathing technique. It helps him get through it most of the time.”
Shaun recovers miraculously after a couple of minutes and I can see the lake as we take the bend. We’re nearly at the lodge.
“We’ll be good from here. Save your car.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, my ankle’s fine now,” I lie.
“Well, alright.”
He pulls up at the main beach area alongside another van. The hot weather’s drawn a few families here today.
“Can I take your phone number?” I ask gratefully. “Get you over for something to eat one evening.”
