Catch Us the Foxes

by Nicola West

  ‘You never saw the cult’s brandings?’ The question felt like it was caught in my throat.

  ‘No. I never bloody said I did.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Dan mumbled under his breath.

  ‘What?’ Jarrah asked, turning to face him.

  ‘I thought you said you’d seen them. I mean, how else did you know about them?’

  ‘Uh, because Lily told me? What the fuck’s the issue?’

  I could already feel tears forming in my eyes. My breathing had once again grown ragged. I needed to stop the panic attack, but it was already taking over.

  I hadn’t realised it, but I’d wanted to believe Jarrah more than anything in the world. Simply because it was the only thing that could possibly excuse what I had done to Sharon. The appalling words I had spoken that had driven her to attempt to take her own life.

  And yet, in a cruel twist of fate, Jarrah’s words had been true. But so had the things the men at the funeral had said. The men that Jarrah had condemned. They were both telling the truth, but neither realised it. Instead, they assumed the other was at best a liar and at worst a monster.

  But there was a common denominator – the real monster.

  Lily.

  It was her. All of this was her. Or, at least, her mental illness.

  ‘Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?’ Jarrah snapped.

  I looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. ‘They were telling the truth, Jarrah. Lily was sick.’

  ‘No. No, she wasn’t!’

  ‘I mean…’ Dan began.

  ‘She wasn’t!’

  ‘The back incident happened after she went off her medication, right?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, obviously. But that doesn’t m–’

  ‘Doesn’t mean what? That she suffered a psychotic break when she went off her meds and started self-harming?’

  ‘Self-harm’s slitting your bloody wrists and cutting your thighs or some shit. It’s not fucking mutilating a huge patch of skin on your lower back for no apparent reason.’

  ‘Her father said her illness made her believe things that weren’t true.’

  ‘But it was true!’

  ‘The story about her not noticing the markings never made sense, Jarrah. I said as much when you told me. But I believed you because I thought I’d seen them for myself.’

  ‘That’s why I didn’t bloody correct you! Because I knew you’d never believe me and I needed to get you into that clearing so you could see the actual proof.’

  ‘Is it proof though?’

  ‘Of course it’s bloody proof!’

  ‘I dunno, Jarrah. That part never really made sense either. Why would they mark the place like that – leave all that evidence lying around? If anyone stumbled across it, they’d be bound to ask questions.’

  ‘Because it’s the fuckin’ middle of nowhere and they think they’re fuckin’ bulletproof!’

  ‘Maybe. But there’s still something off about those carvings in the trees. Why would there be so many of them? What purpose could they possibly serve?’

  ‘I dunno. Maybe it represents every kid they’ve fucking sacrificed?’

  ‘That symbol’s all throughout Lily’s journals – scribbled over and over again – just like the “Song of Solomon” verses.’

  ‘So, what are you trying to say? That Lily did them?’

  ‘I’m just pointing out that she was clearly displaying obsessive and compulsive tendencies. It could just be another symptom of her going off her meds.’

  ‘No. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t lie to me about it.’

  ‘I’m not saying she lied, Jarrah. Her father said she was delusional. She might not have even known she was the person who had carved them.’

  ‘Michael is the one who’s fucking delusional! He’s a monster, and I know how to prove it. He has the brandings, Lo. Lily was sure of it. I’ll fucking kidnap the piece of shit and show it to the world.’

  ‘I’ve seen Michael’s back, Jarrah. There’s nothing there – no brands, no symbols – nothing. Just like there wasn’t anything on Lily’s back. It was all in her fucking mind.’

  My words rippled around the bower and silenced the two men. They stood, staring at me – a mixture of shock and confusion etched on their faces. They shared a brief glance before turning back to face me.

  ‘Bullshit,’ Jarrah seethed, the slight quiver in his voice betraying his conviction.

  ‘It’s true.’

  ‘No, you’re full of sh–’

  ‘When did you last see Michael’s back?’ Dan asked.

  ‘The day before yesterday.’

  ‘Uh,’ Dan began awkwardly. ‘Do I wanna know how? Or should I just –’

  ‘He showered in the bloody cottage before he got changed for the press conference,’ I snapped. ‘I needed to use the bathroom, so I pounded on the door assuming it was my dad. When he opened it, he was only wearing a towel.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I got a good look at his back – there was nothing there. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘You’re a fucking liar,’ Jarrah growled.

  ‘Why the fuck would I lie?’

  ‘I dunno, Marlowe. Maybe because you’re one of them?’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s –’

  ‘Think about it, Dan,’ Jarrah interrupted, turning to face him.

  ‘Jarrah,’ Dan warned.

  ‘No, seriously. I mean, it all adds up.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t,’ Dan replied. ‘None of it does. You’ve gotta let this shit go. You’re getting paranoid. Lily was obviously sick. And I know you thought you were helping her but – I mean – fuck, man…’

  A flash of rage illuminated Jarrah’s face, and he opened his mouth to say something.

  ‘What?’ Dan barked. ‘You gonna accuse me of being a cult member too?’

  He shook his head. ‘You know what she’s like,’ he said, almost pleadingly.

  ‘Yeah.’ Dan sighed. ‘I do. It’s how I know she’s not in a fucking cult.’

  The dam finally burst as the realisation of what I’d done to Sharon hit me once more. Sobs were choking out of my mouth, and my arms were tightly wrapped around my knees. I couldn’t even bear to look at Jarrah any more. I could see how delusional he seemed and was kicking myself for not recognising it before. I’d been so caught up by his story – by Lily’s story. I had fallen for its allure, just like him. And it had almost killed me.

  Jarrah took a step towards me and crouched down. He pointed a threatening finger right in my face. I refused to meet his eyes.

  ‘Cut the fucking crocodile tears. I know what you’re doing. I’m not fucking stupid, Marlowe. What did they offer you? What could possibly be worth the blood that’s on your hands?’

  He grabbed my wrists, and I tried to yank them away. He held both of my hands up to my face. Dan moved towards us.

  ‘You see it, Marlowe?’ Jarrah hissed. ‘You see the blood?’

  Dan grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. I was finally able to wrestle my hands away, and I held them against my pounding heart. My breaths choked in and out. Tears streamed down my face.

  ‘I’m going to show the world what’s on your hands, Marlowe,’ Jarrah threatened as Dan dragged him away from me. ‘They’re going to know exactly who you are and exactly what you did.’

  ‘Shut the fuck up, Jarrah,’ Dan shouted. ‘Get the fuck off this property or I’ll call the bloody cops. Get the first train back to Sydney and get some fucking help. You’re losing it, man.’

  Dan dragged Jarrah away from the bower and I could still hear him pleading his case. He was screaming about the lyrebird. If he’d still been there, I would have told him the mimicked screams were likely Lily’s – maybe even from the day we were accosted by leeches as kids. I stared down at the palms of my hands – just as Sharon had – they were shaking. Somewhere behind me, the sounds of footsteps echoed.

  I spun around and was shocked to see the figure emerging around the corner.

 
; CHAPTER 72

  ‘You okay, kiddo?’ Owen asked, his face contorted in concern.

  ‘What do you want, Owen? Besides fucking eavesdropping.’

  ‘I saw you come back here and wanted to talk to you,’ he said, walking towards me. ‘But when I saw who you were meeting, I thought I’d better stick around. Y’know, just in case.’

  ‘Well thanks for stepping in, mate. You were a huge help.’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d want me to interfere,’ he said, absentmindedly touching the bruise on his eye. ‘Not after last time. Besides, your attack mutt seemed to have things under control.’

  I rolled my eyes.

  ‘Must be nice to know he chose you over his boyfriend.’

  ‘Don’t fucking start.’

  He held up his hands and eased himself down onto the ground next to me. The scent of his aftershave made me feel sick. He knocked his knee against mine, and I pulled it away.

  ‘I saw what happened at the funeral,’ he said. ‘So, they finally told you everything, huh?’

  ‘Apparently so.’

  ‘I tried to warn you, Lo. The day before yesterday. I said it’d all make sense.’

  ‘What part of this makes sense?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he nodded. ‘Fair call.’

  ‘I just don’t understand why they kept it all a secret,’ I said. ‘I mean, was it Michael? Was he scared it was going to affect his professional reputation if people found out his own daughter was a nutjob?’

  ‘From everything I’ve heard it sounds like it came from your father – and that the rest of the police force backed him up.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because they knew what would have happened if those marks got out there – no matter where they came from. The madness it would have caused. And when Jarrah was cleared, and the cause of death came in, they realised her murder was likely unrelated. They didn’t want it distracting from finding her actual killer. They knew stuff would likely come out during the trial but, until then, they didn’t want the media anywhere near it.’

  ‘Then how the fuck do you know so much?’

  ‘Because of you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The night of the attack on the carnies, I went back to my hotel and called my editor. I told him everything you’d told me.’

  I frowned at him.

  ‘Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him who my source was.’

  I nodded – not that it mattered any more.

  ‘Of course, at the time, I didn’t realise you suspected Michael and the rest of those men. But Paul knew all about Lily’s problems and accusations and knew what I was talking about. In fact, it turns out it was how she got the internship. Her father was convinced that if she got away from the town and had something to focus on she’d go back on her meds and everything would go back to normal.’

  ‘What about Michael and Paul’s hunts in the rainforest?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, in hindsight that was a really fuckin’ unfortunate thing for me to bring up, hey?’

  ‘No shit.’

  ‘I mean, I’ve seen photos.’ He shrugged. ‘Whole bloody office is forced to sit through them when he gets back. It’s mainly deer and roo, but I’ve seen a few rabbits and foxes – real ones. Y’know, bushy tails, pointy ears, whiskers? Cute little buggers. Frankly, I feel sorry for them.’

  I let out a long sigh and stretched my legs out in front of me. The two of us sat there in silence. Both lost in our own thoughts. I closed my eyes and fought the urge to roll up into a little ball and sleep under the shade of the bower’s trees.

  ‘Do you still think the carny’s innocent?’ Owen asked. ‘After everything you now know?’

  My eyes sprang open. I didn’t know the answer any more. Everything told me that Steve had been telling the truth – but I’d been wrong about so many things. About so many people. What I thought didn’t matter. Not any more.

  ‘I honestly don’t know,’ I said, after a while.

  Owen began to nod but was interrupted by someone emerging from behind the school building. Dan.

  Owen leaned in close. ‘I think that’s my cue to leave,’ he whispered, before pointing at his eye. ‘Not keen for another one of these.’

  I nodded, and he quickly got to his feet before retreating in the opposite direction.

  ‘Jarrah’s gone,’ Dan said, addressing me. ‘Hopefully for good, but I’ll walk you back to the cottage or your car just in case.’

  I nodded, and his eyes fell on Owen’s back.

  ‘Oi, pretty boy. Wait up.’

  Owen spun around, and I braced myself for what was to come.

  ‘Sorry about your face, mate,’ Dan said. ‘Absolute dog act on my part.’

  Owen nodded, slightly perplexed. ‘Yeah, well I’m sorry for… I’m just sorry too.’

  ‘Well, at the very least you now know that you’ll never have to pay for another Kilmagoon at the Blue Diamond.’

  That artificial smile was finally back. ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yeah, just ask for a purple punch.’

  Owen laughed. ‘Just might have to take you up on that.’

  He gave a final wave to the two of us and walked away. Dan sat down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me, but I didn’t fight back. I didn’t have the energy to.

  ‘I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Lo.’

  When he finally pulled away, I could see he’d been crying. He went out of his way to pretend otherwise.

  ‘Remember the bowerbird?’ he asked, way too cheerfully. ‘I was always so jealous that you saw it.’

  I wiped my own tears away and took a deep breath.

  ‘I never saw it, Dan.’

  His brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It wasn’t real. I made it up.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘There was nothing out here, Dan. No woven nest, no collection of blue and gold trinkets, and definitely no beautiful ink-hued bird.’

  ‘But that doesn’t make sense. Why did the teachers never call you out on it?’

  ‘Because doing so would have exposed their lie.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He ran his hands through his hair and stared around the bower in disbelief. It was like the entire area had transformed before his eyes. As if it had lost its magic. He let out a small laugh and shook his head.

  ‘Why’d you do it?’ he asked. ‘What was the point of lying about it?’

  ‘I dunno, man. I guess because it was a better story than the truth?’

  He looked like he’d just found out the tooth fairy wasn’t real.

  ‘I mean, I remember being so disappointed when I saw there was nothing there,’ I continued. ‘Like, I felt so betrayed that we’d all been lied to. And when I came back in, you were sitting on that sickbed nursing your bee sting and looking at me so expectantly. I didn’t want to let you down – to make you feel the way that I had felt. The real story fuckin’ sucked, so I just – I dunno – made up a better one?’

  ‘Fuck, Lo.’

  It was almost as if my childhood lie had been the most shocking reveal of the day.

  We talked for a long time after that. About Jarrah – about Lily – about Owen, and about the ways we’d all been played. Dan said he hadn’t seen Jarrah for years before he randomly showed up at the Blue Diamond the night after Lily’s death – the same day Jarrah had been questioned at Warilla police station, and the same day he’d given me the journals.

  They’d hooked up that night and, in the ensuing days, had spent a lot of time talking on the phone. Dan admitted that he’d been smitten by Jarrah’s attention – it was just like old times. But he grew suspicious when Jarrah became increasingly fixated on me. He was clearly using Dan to gain more information. Combined with my own caginess and odd encounters with Owen, Dan realised that something was up. He was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  He’d stolen the journals. Not for Jarrah, but for himself. Jarrah had already confessed
that he’d given them to me but refused to divulge their contents. So, when the opportunity presented itself, Dan took it. He took them. Needless to say, he regretted it. And he had no idea what to do with the information he’d discovered.

  Ultimately, he decided to wait until after Lily was buried – out of respect for her. But, when he witnessed the argument at the funeral, he finally had the courage to confront Jarrah and find out what the hell had been going on. While I’d so desperately tried to retrieve the packages, Jarrah had told him everything. And – for the most part – Dan had believed him.

  It had been his idea to text me to allow Jarrah to plead his side of the story. But Dan hadn’t told him what he had used to lure me there. He assured me that the journals were still safely tucked away at his house. He also promised that he’d give them back to me straight away. But I no longer cared.

  I mean, why would I? They were just the rantings of a madwoman.

  After apologising for the billionth time, Dan finally walked me back to my car. Thankfully, there was no sign of Jarrah. He offered to escort me to the cottage, but I assured him that I’d be fine. I drove off, struck by the realisation that our friendship would never be the same.

  I was too exhausted to cry.

  CHAPTER 73

  When I returned home, I was shocked to discover my father sitting on the lounge room floor. My packages were strewn around him. One of them was open and he was flipping through the scans of the photos and journal pages. He looked up at me – his face grave – and shook his head.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Lo.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I, I thought –’

  ‘You thought what? That this was real? That we were killing kids? My fucking name is in here.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated, tears streaming from my eyes. ‘I fucked up so bad.’

  ‘How could you think this? I’m your father – I fucking raised you.’

  ‘I didn’t think you killed them. Lily thought you were just helping them to cover it up.’

  ‘That doesn’t make it any fucking better! You still believed that?’