Catch Us the Foxes

by Nicola West

  But it was too late. Someone was already opening the door.

  I immediately unclipped my seatbelt and scrambled out the driver-side door as the fog cleared around me.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Jarrah asked, peering around the front of the car. He was looking at me like I was crazy.

  ‘I know you locked the gate.’

  ‘Uh, yeah? I didn’t want anyone to see it was unlocked and then come up here and find the car while we were out searching.’

  ‘Then why’d you take your bag with you?’ I hissed, fighting back tears.

  ‘What? My bag’s behind my seat. I haven’t touched it since I put it there at the station.’

  I peered through the window to where he was pointing. Sure enough, his satchel was wedged underneath the back of his seat. I had no idea how I’d missed it.

  ‘Are you okay, Lo?’ He was talking to me like I was a wild animal he was trying not to spook. I was getting sick of people treating me like that.

  ‘Why’d you tell me to drive up here, then?’

  ‘Because I heard something?’ It was as if he was unsure why he was answering the question. ‘Seriously, Lo, what the fuck is going on? You’re acting super sketchy.’

  ‘I’m acting sketchy?’

  ‘Uh, yes! Super sketchy!’

  ‘What did you hear?’ I snapped.

  His face contorted in confusion once more. ‘A car, and then a dog barking. Did you seriously not hear it?’

  The hunting hounds, my mind whispered, and I fought back the urge to vomit.

  ‘Are you crying?’ Jarrah asked, walking around the front of the car to get closer to me.

  ‘Stay back!’ I barked, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

  ‘Lo…’

  ‘What kind of dogs?’ I shouted.

  ‘Dog – singular. And I dunno the breed. Little yappy thing, ankle-biter, y’know?’ He bent down and hovered his hand a short distance from the ground.

  The air was too thin. Too cold. I couldn’t get enough of it into my lungs. I felt like I was going to pass out.

  ‘It was there with its owners – an elderly couple,’ Jarrah continued. ‘They parked in the car park and then walked it up to the northern lookout. When I saw them go down the path, I ran back to lock the gate before anyone saw it open.’

  I stared at Jarrah’s face. I believed he was telling the truth. He was too confused. Too scared. And everything he said was entirely logical.

  I rested my head on the LandCruiser’s door. I’d been using it as a type of shield, as well as a way to prop myself up. My legs felt like jelly. I didn’t have the strength to pull myself back into the car so I slumped to the ground.

  Jarrah ran towards me. The grass felt damp against my pants, but I didn’t care. I tried to suck that crisp mountain air into my hyperventilating lungs while Michael’s words echoed in my mind: The night terrors are just the start of it. There’s also the lethargy, the anxiety attacks, the paranoia and the fits of aggression.

  Was he right? Was all of this just the symptoms of PTSD?

  CHAPTER 51

  ‘Are you sure you still want to do this?’ Jarrah asked. ‘Why don’t you stay in the car and I’ll take your camera into the ritual area and take pictures of what I find there?’

  We were both sitting in the LandCruiser in a small clearing just before the fork in Hoddles Track. It was the point of no return where we’d have to ditch the car and take the lower path down onto the Williamses’ property by foot. In the rainforest, somewhere below us, the electric fence and warning signs loomed.

  ‘I said I’m fine. We’re doing this. Both of us.’

  After my legs had buckled, Jarrah had rushed around the front of the LandCruiser. He’d grabbed my backpack from the car and fished out my canteen. He’d then gingerly held the bottle up to my lips and I’d snatched it away. I was furious that he had seen me like that. So weak. So vulnerable.

  In the end though, my rage and embarrassment were a help more than a hindrance. It was the only thing that got my breathing back under control and provided me with the strength to get back into the driver’s seat. I pretended like nothing had happened and, for the most part, Jarrah did too.

  But there was something about the way he looked at me that infuriated me. Like I was broken. Like he was questioning my capabilities, or worse, my sanity. He had lost faith after seeing me like that, and I tried to fight back the thought that maybe it was justified.

  Had I lost faith in myself? The thought terrified me.

  We’d driven along the fire trail almost in silence, and watched as the fog grew sparser and sparser the further we drove. It could have been chalked up to the passage of time, and the warming of the sun, but it was just as likely due to our gradual descent down the western face of the mountain. Either way, it felt like a sign – no excuses now.

  ‘Well, as long as you’re sure,’ Jarrah said, shrugging.

  But I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure at all.

  ‘See, we’re here,’ Jarrah said, pointing at a map he’d printed off. ‘Hoddles Track splits here, which is just up there.’ He pointed at the fork on the map and then gestured through the tree line in front of the LandCruiser.

  ‘And that’s where the Williamses’ property starts?’

  ‘Nah, a bit further down. Should be a fence around here.’ He tapped at the map once more.

  I stared at it for a while, trying to get my bearings. ‘Coming in from this angle puts us close to the house and its surrounds.’

  ‘Yeah, but it will be much easier to find the track down to the clearings if we can use the house as a guide.’

  ‘Sound travels differently up here. I think it’s because of the echo off the plateau, but I can remember being all the way down at the waterhole and hearing Lily’s parents talking on the back deck, clear as day.’

  ‘Shit, seriously?’ Jarrah asked, his eyes trailing the distance from the house to the waterhole on the map.

  ‘Yeah. We’re gonna have to be super quiet. I think we can get away with footsteps and twigs breaking and stuff – just because of how much wildlife is up here – but I don’t think we can risk talking at all. At least, not until we get to the clearings. They should be far enough away from the house.’

  ‘Aw, but what about our witty repartee?’

  ‘I’m serious, Jarrah.’

  ‘Ugh. Fiiiiine, I’ll shut up, but you’re the one missing out.’

  I ignored him, but a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. It was hard to believe that only moments earlier I’d thought he was trying to kill me.

  He still could be, my mind whispered.

  I immediately quashed the thought, physically shaking my head as if to dislodge it from my mind. The past few days had taught me what it was like to not be able to trust anyone, but the thought of not being able to trust my own mind was an entirely new concept. Had this been what Lily had felt while the town gaslighted her into submission?

  No. I couldn’t think like that.

  ‘So, we’re good to go?’ Jarrah asked. He was once again looking at me like he thought I might be insane.

  ‘Yeah, I…’ I began. ‘No, actually, wait. Can you please pass me the little bottle of salt from the glove box?’

  His face contorted in confusion, but he opened the compartment.

  ‘Why do you have salt?’ he asked, reaching in and taking out the bottle.

  ‘Because my dad always says the fish and chip shops don’t put enough on.’

  ‘And, what exactly does that have to do with us now?’

  I grabbed the bottle from his hands, checked that the lid was properly closed and placed it in my backpack. I took a deep breath before staring Jarrah straight in the eye.

  ‘Because,’ I began, my voice tinged with embarrassment, ‘I’m going to use it to cast a protection spell.’

  His eyes widened.

  ‘If I sprinkle it behind us as we walk, and say an incantation, then no one who means us harm will be able to follow
us.’

  ‘Really?’ he asked breathlessly.

  ‘No, you fucking idiot. It’s for the bloody leeches. There’s no way they’re gonna get through your skin-tight pants, but the little suckers love attaching themselves to my ankles. There’s something about my blood that they apparently find irresistible.’

  He snorted with laughter. ‘See?’ he said, pointing back and forth between us. ‘How could you possibly want to silence this?’

  I could think of one reason – Michael’s gun.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I replied, secretly wishing that protection spells were real.

  CHAPTER 52

  We broke the tree line and went down Hoddle’s bottom track, where we were almost immediately engulfed by the rainforest. Its canopy was so dense that you couldn’t see the sky, and yet the sun still managed to filter through the leaves in discordant patches. The spattering of pale light cast eerie shadows on the leaf litter covering the ground. The soundscape was mesmerising – like the backing track of a meditation tape – and I was lulled by it.

  I didn’t have much faith that Jarrah would be able to keep quiet for long, which was why I was so surprised when we finally stumbled upon the border of the Williamses’ property. The clearly marked electric fence appeared exactly how it had in the photo on the hiking forum, but there was a new addition to the sign threatening trespassers – a well-placed bullet hole.

  It was impossible to hide my shock.

  In contrast, Jarrah casually strode over to the sign and stuck his pinkie finger through the hole before turning to face me and raising his eyebrows. I pointed at the small yellow sign warning of the electrical current, and he nodded before lifting his index finger – seemingly signalling me to wait. It was at that moment that I realised I had no idea how we could navigate the fence. The hiker on the forum had said that there were ways around it but had never actually elaborated.

  I gritted my teeth, furious that even with all my planning I hadn’t considered that we’d need a solution to getting over the fence. How could I have been so stupid? Or did it just prove that, deep down, I never actually thought I’d be standing there?

  While I was busy berating myself, Jarrah had kneeled down in a plant thicket that resembled a cross between palm fronds and tall grass. He plucked one of the long green tendrils and walked back towards the fence, before squatting in front of it. Before I had a chance to protest, he carefully looped the greenery around the fence’s wire and gently held each end in his fingertips.

  I walked towards him as he delicately pulled the loop so that the plant came into contact with the wire. I held my breath, but he remained completely still. After a few seconds, he turned to face me and smiled.

  ‘What the fuck?’ I mouthed, crouching down beside him.

  ‘It’s not on,’ he mouthed back.

  I stared at the fence then turned back to face him. ‘Are you sure?’

  He nodded and gestured for me to touch the plant. I shook my head, and he shrugged before dropping it onto the ground.

  ‘Watch this,’ he whispered, and I stared in horror as he gently placed the back of his hand on the wire.

  It was too late to stop him – his entire body had already gone rigid.

  I clasped my hands to my mouth, trying to stifle the gasp that had escaped my lungs. Jarrah’s eyes had rolled into the back of his head, and his entire body was shuddering. I went to touch him but immediately stopped myself. I stared helplessly at his twitching face as his mouth contorted into…

  A smile?

  He winked at me, that shit-eating grin spreading further over his face, and I slapped the back of his head – hard.

  ‘You fucking prick,’ I hissed, my heart still pounding.

  He raised his index finger to his lips while trying to stifle his own laughter. I punched him firmly on his arm, and he fell into the fence.

  There was nothing funny about his actions. What if I’d screamed? The entire mountainside would have heard me.

  Part of me wished we would come face-to-face with Michael and his gun – just so I could take it off him and put a bullet between Jarrah’s eyes. What was all of this to him? Fun? A fucking adventure? How could he claim to care about Lily, and bringing her killer to justice, while pulling stunts like that?

  I left him on the ground, still trying to control his laughter, and carefully climbed over the fence. Tears were beginning to pool in my eyes, and I felt my breath growing ragged. I was on the brink of another anxiety attack – I could feel it – but one that was also fuelled by rage. I was genuinely scared of what I was capable of.

  When we reached the perimeter of the homestead’s cleared land, I was surprised that Jarrah didn’t even pause to look at the property. Instead, he turned ninety degrees and began heading south, just inside the tree line. I suppose there was no need for nostalgia if you’d never been there before.

  In contrast, I noted that if we continued along the track, we’d eventually end up on the Williamses’ driveway. Right outside their front door – like we were just popping in for tea. As I scanned the familiar landscape, I felt an overwhelming urge to do exactly that.

  Let’s go and see Lily, my brain seemed to think. Just like old times.

  It felt like a cruel trick, and I tried to push the thought away, but it all came flooding back. Lily and I had been so close as kids. I’d spent so many hours on this property. When did that stop? Why did it stop? When did she go from being my best friend in the world to being someone I deigned to tolerate?

  I’d loved it here. I’d loved her family and I’d loved her.

  What the hell had happened?

  We continued down the edge of the rainforest in silence, while Jarrah munched on a muesli bar. We were hidden by the tree line but always kept the homestead in sight. Jarrah marched on, never pausing or slowing his speed. I assumed that he could hear my footsteps because he never turned around to check if I were still there. Maybe he didn’t care.

  When he finished his muesli bar, he dropped the wrapper on the ground. I picked it up and shoved it into my pocket. It wasn’t just litter – it was evidence, and I found myself once again growing frustrated by Jarrah’s flippancy. This wasn’t real to him – not like it was real to me – it was just random scribblings and doodles in a diary. He hadn’t had to come face-to-face with the perpetrators. He hadn’t feared for his life.

  He was a tourist here. Like all the others who descended on the town for brief holidays before returning to their normal lives. At the end of the day, he would get on that train, go back to Sydney, and everything would go back to normal. He didn’t have to live with a person whose name was on that list. Or come home and find a gaggle of them gathered in his lounge room. And he certainly hadn’t had to find her body – to see what they had done to her – those angry marks carved into that flawless flesh.

  He didn’t have to lie to them. He didn’t have to be threatened by them. He didn’t have to wonder if he was next.

  What a luxury that must be.

  As the forest began to curve, the waterhole and the back of the house came into view. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the pool or on the back deck, but there was no telling if Michael or Sharon were behind those sprawling windows. I’d brought a small pair of binoculars but there was no point in looking. After all, the tinted glaze kept both the sun and prying eyes at bay.

  Once again, Jarrah barely glanced at the house. Instead, he kept his eyes trained in front of him as he navigated the uneven terrain. His gait and pace were still languid – like he had all the time in the world. His head never turned when a branch snapped somewhere in the distance, or a bird let out a particularly piercing cry. He seemed utterly at home in that rainforest. I tried not to think of the implications.

  But, as I watched the back of the pool slowly align with our position, he finally reduced his pace. He turned to face me.

  ‘Told you,’ he smugly mouthed, before pointing at the thin, snaking path to our right.

  We followed it for
a short while, but neither of us could have anticipated what we’d find at the end.

  ‘Fuck,’ Jarrah mumbled.

  He had entered the ritual area first. There wasn’t enough room on the makeshift path for us to stand side by side, so I had to crane my neck to see what he’d spotted. I hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped dead, so I walked straight into his back. It pushed him further into the clearing. He stepped out of my way, and I could finally see what he meant.

  ‘No…’ I said. My voice sounded small and brittle.

  ‘Fuck,’ he repeated – louder this time.

  We should have been well out of earshot of anyone on the Williamses’ homestead but I still winced at the sound.

  ‘What did you even think would be here?’ I asked, staring at the clearing.

  It was precisely that, nothing more than an empty void in the rainforest. There was absolutely nothing of note or significance. The area seemed entirely untouched by human hands.

  ‘Fuck!’ Jarrah shouted, running his hands over his head.

  There was a log, not far from where we were standing – an old tree that had fallen at some point in the past. I walked over to it and sat down. I removed my canteen from my backpack and took a long drink. Jarrah remained frozen in place, his eyes frantically scanning the clearing as if some nefarious clue would present itself.

  ‘But why would there be a path from the house to here?’ he asked.

  ‘I dunno, man.’ I unbuttoned my shirt, frowning at the sweat-soaked singlet underneath.

  He walked over to me and dropped his satchel onto the ground but didn’t sit down. He kept scanning the clearing, growing more frustrated by the second.

  ‘I really thought…’

  ‘What?’ I snapped. ‘That there was going to be some satanic temple here? Goat heads impaled on spears? A bloody portal to hell in an old volcanic vent?’

  ‘This doesn’t mean that nothing happened here, Lo!’

  ‘But it might as fucking well have. We needed this, Jarrah – she needed this. Without corroborating evidence, this is her word against theirs. The journals mean nothing if there isn’t anything to back them up.’