by L. A. Larkin
‘Can you hear me? My name’s Jim.’
‘Don’t move her, mate. She might have a broken neck,’ commented another.
Whose are these voices?
‘Call an ambo, and the police.’
The police? No, I don’t want the police.
She opened her eyes and blinked into the back of her hands. Something white and round lay beneath them. The airbag. She had survived. Carefully, she pulled her body backwards and lifted her head. Her neck ached badly.
‘Love, I don’t think you should move. You had a bad accident.’
She looked into an unshaved tanned face.
‘I’m Jim. What’s your name, love?’
‘Serena.’
‘Serena, just stay as you are until the ambos arrive. Best not to move.’
‘No police, no ambulance. I’m fine,’ she mumbled, using her hands to feel her body. Nothing felt broken but her legs were constricted. ‘Please, help me to get out of here.’
Jim leaned forward through the battered doorframe.
‘Aw, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Just wait a few more minutes. They’ll be here soon.’
Serena started to try to wriggle her legs free, but the steering wheel column had dropped on impact and she was trapped. She reached out and tugged at the man’s T-shirt, distorting the lettering, ‘Jim’s building supplies’ printed on it.
‘Can you move my seat back? My legs are trapped. I have to get out of here,’ she said, her voice high-pitched with panic. She banged her hand on the steering wheel in desperation.
‘Hold on, hold on one sec. I’ll help you, but just stop a moment or you’ll hurt yourself some more.’
Jim called over his shoulder, ‘Tony, over here. Help me move her seat.’
Tony, a dark man with a small build, put his face in the car.
‘You sure, mate?’
‘Yeah, she’s panicking, we better get her out,’ he whispered.
Together, they yanked the seat lever up and tried pushing the seat back. It was jammed.
‘What if we lay the back of her seat flat and then she can slide out that way?’ suggested Tony.
‘Good one, mate. Serena, we’re going to flatten your seat so we can slide you out.’
‘Please hurry.’
The seat back moved flat, and then Jim put his muscular arms around her waist and pulled. Her already bruised knees hit the steering column and she cried out.
‘Shit! What if we’re doing the wrong thing?’ exclaimed Tony, shaking his head.
‘I’m fine, really. I’m nearly out.’
His strong arms still around her, she was dragged out of the car and onto the tarmac at the front of the car. Tony had cordoned off the area with two hazard cones and was directing traffic around the accident site. Jim kneeled in front of her.
‘How’re you feeling?’
‘Not bad. Just a bit shaken up.’
‘You’re lucky to be alive. I couldn’t believe it when I saw the truck ram you. I reckon the truckie must’ve fallen asleep, ’cause when I honked on me horn he pulled away.’ He tutted. ‘Wish I’d got his rego.’
‘Jim, thank you for being so wonderful. You saved my life. But I’m not hurt and I desperately need to get to Channel One. Can you drive me there? It’s really important.’
‘You can’t just leave your car here, love; it might cause another accident. And anyways, the police and ambos are on their way. Best wait for them.’
Serena was wasting precious time. And she needed her handbag. The DVD! She struggled to stand up and, as she did, she noticed a tear at the knee of her black pants.
‘Here, let me help you.’
‘My handbag,’ she replied, walking unsteadily towards her smashed car.
‘I’ll get it. Where was it?’
‘On the passenger seat. But it’s probably on the floor somewhere.’
She sat back on the road.
The car bonnet had stopped hissing. Jim kneeled on the driver’s seat and felt around on the floor on the passenger side. Thrown right forward with the impact, her bag was hidden in the darkness under the dashboard. Feeling his way, he found a strap and pulled it: it was her bag. He also found her Tbyte—the face was smashed. Handing the bag and phone to her, he went to join Tony, who was directing the crawling traffic through the tunnel. Serena eagerly checked for the DVD and breathed a sigh of relief when she held it in her hand. It wasn’t damaged. But her smartphone was useless. That was all she needed. The interior of the tunnel was lit up by rotating red and white lights, hypnotically reflecting off the roof, as an ambulance wove its way through the queue of cars. A man and a woman stepped out.
‘Hi. I’m Cath and this is Max,’ said the freckle-faced woman kneeling before her. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Serena. Serena Swift.’
‘Are you hurt?’ she asked.
‘No, I’m fine. Just a bit shocked. I’m so sorry Jim called you. There’s no need.’
‘Are you in pain anywhere? Does your neck hurt?’
She hesitated.
‘Best we put a collar around your neck and take you to the hospital to get checked out. Looks like a pretty bad accident,’ said Cath, glancing at Serena’s car.
‘I don’t need to go to hospital. I’m not hurt.’
Cath glanced up at Max, who kneeled down to Serena’s level.
‘Is there anyone else hurt?’
‘No, the truck driver bolted.’
‘Look, we’re here now, so we might as well take you to the hospital, just to be sure you’re okay. It’s just up the road.’
‘How far?’
‘Five minutes.’
If Serena went to the hospital, she could take a taxi from there to Channel One.
‘Let’s go.’
‘Hey, mate!’ Max called to Jim.
Jim jogged over.
‘You happy to wait for the police? We’re taking Serena to the hospital.’
‘No worries,’ he said, winking at Serena and breaking out into a craggy smile.
‘Thanks, Jim,’ Serena replied, as Cath placed a rigid white collar around her neck.
‘Can you walk?’
‘Yes,’ she said, as Max helped her stand.
Cath helped her into the ambulance, where Serena lay down, her bag in her hand. The ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring, and she closed her eyes. Her thoughts turned to John. Was he all right? Where was he? The ambulance swayed marginally as it turned off the freeway, followed closely by a Toyota Corolla, its windows tinted, its driver unidentifiable.
‘Nearly there,’ said Cath. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘No different.’
Serena lifted her arm and stared at her father’s watch. It was 2.15 pm. Too much time was slipping away.
The ambulance stopped. The doors opened and Serena tried to sit up.
‘Serena, just lie down now. We’ll wheel you in.’
She lay still and watched, as the white interior of the ambulance became clear blue sky and then cream corridor ceilings. There was an unmistakable smell of disinfectant. Serena heard Cath talking to a doctor before she came back over to her.
‘Dr Wong will be with you soon. We’re off now,’ said Cath.
Alone in a curtained cubicle, Serena sat up and removed the restrictive collar. It was time to get moving.
She peered through the cubicle’s white curtains and found the corridor was empty, except for a nurse with a bedpan. Serena waited for her to enter another cubicle. Unsure of the location of the exit, she took a punt and turned right, following one of the many coloured lines painted on the shiny floor. A doctor in a white coat, stethoscope round her neck, rushed by; a nurse behind a reception desk glanced at her and then returned to her paperwork.
‘Excuse me, where’s the taxi rank?’ Serena asked the receptionist.
‘You’ll need to call one. Number is over the phone in the corner.’
‘How long do they take to get here?’
‘Depends. Ten, fif
teen minutes.’
At the public phone, she tapped in her Tbyte user ID so the call would be charged to her account, and dialled the number. They told her the taxi would be fifteen or twenty minutes. ‘How far from the hospital to North Rocks?’ Serena asked. ‘About ten kilometres,’ the woman answered.
Serena ordered a taxi, knowing she couldn’t afford to wait that long: it would be a last resort.
She needed to know John was safe. She dialled his mobile. It rang and rang, and then there was a click. She could hear breathing.
‘John?’
She heard a voice but it wasn’t John’s. It hissed at her like a cobra:
‘Who else did you tell, Serena?’
Chapter 56
A sharp intake of breath and all the colour drained from Serena’s face.
‘Where’s John?’ she mouthed, barely audibly.
‘We want the DVD. John’s life for the DVD.’
She knew that her response would dictate whether John survived or not. ‘How do I know he’s alive? Put him on.’
‘Cocky bitch, aren’t you? He ain’t going to be alive much longer if you don’t hand over the disc.’
She heard a thud, like a punching bag being hit, and a low moan.
‘You listening?’ asked the voice.
Down the phone, Serena heard a low cry like that of an animal in pain and it chilled her soul. The man’s voice was distorted by his agony but she knew it was John’s.
‘Stop hurting him …’
‘Deal or no deal? But make it quick.’
‘Deal. It’s a deal.’
‘Meet us at Garigal National Park at …’
‘No. In the city, at the crossroads of York and George Streets.’
She wanted lots of people around her. In a busy city street, it would be harder to kill her.
‘Be there at four, alone. Call the cops and he’s dead.’
The line was cut and the phone hummed its dial tone. She had to save John, no matter what. And she needed help. She dialled Baz.
‘Yup?’ he answered. She could hear laughter in the background.
‘Baz, it’s me. I need your help.’
‘Serena, what’s wrong?’ His tone had changed instantly.
‘It’s John. He’s … in trouble.’
‘Wait up. What? Johno’s what?’
‘Baz, please listen. There’s not much time. John told you about my … what happened to me Friday night?’
‘Yes.’
‘The same person who … assaulted me is trying to kill me. Al Bukowski. I stole some documents from him, and John helped me, and now they have him and they’re hurting him …’
‘Wait, Serena, slow down. John hacked Gene-Asis?’
‘No, I did. He gave me the keylogger, so I could steal the file. He’s been helping me. Baz, they have him and I heard them beating him. They’ll kill him if I don’t give them back their DVD. Please, I need your help.’ Her words exploded from her mouth like steam from a geyser.
‘Is this a joke? Cause I’m not laughing,’ said Baz, clearly rattled.
‘No, it’s no joke. Please, Baz, John needs you.’
‘Serena, Johno is fine. I saw him leave for work this morning …’
‘Baz, Gene-Asis is going to kill him unless I get this disc to them by four.’
‘Why? None of this makes sense. What disc?’
‘I’m sorry; I don’t have time to explain. The disc has information that’ll destroy them. It proves their foods are killing people. It proves they caused the hep S outbreak, which killed Kat.’
‘Jesus fucking Christ, and I encouraged him to help you. God, what did I do?’
‘I’m sorry, Baz. Hate me if you want, but please help me get John back. I’m meeting his kidnappers at the junction of York and George Streets.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Baulkham Hills Hospital.’
‘Shit. What are you doing …You’ll barely make it into the city by four.’
‘I’ll get there. Baz, will you help me?’
‘Of course. He’s my brother. I’ll meet you outside the Gloria Jean’s on the corner. And I’m phoning the police.’
‘No police. Not one. If they see a cop, John will die.’ Baz was silent. ‘Baz, promise me, no police,’ she begged. ‘No cops, and I’ll be there.’
Chapter 57
Dropping the phone, Serena nearly collided with a male nurse as she ran towards the entrance and out into the car park. Now for transport—she’d steal a car if she had to. The taxi rank was empty. Shielding her eyes from the glaring sunshine, she surveyed the car park, searching for someone who’d just arrived or was about to leave.
‘Amber? Is that you?’
She recognised the deep and raspy voice. Looking round, she saw Ben Hartstone, wearing a wide-brimmed battered hat, reflective sunglasses, baggy shirt and shorts, and workman’s boots. His face was almost completely obscured except for his ski-slope of a nose.
‘I thought it was you. What are you doing here?’ he said cheerily.
‘I … was in a car accident,’ she replied. ‘And you? I thought you were leaving on Saturday?’
‘My mum got sick, so I stayed a few more days. I was just about to visit her,’ he said.
‘Ben, I need to get to the city really urgently. Someone’s life’s in danger and I have to be there by four. I need your car.’
‘Strewth! What’s happened?’
‘I’ve no time to explain. I’m sorry but I have to take your car. I’ll bring it back in an hour or so. I need your keys.’ She held out her hand.
‘Nah, I’ll drive you. I can see Mum another time. This sounds important.’
He strode off across the car park and Serena kept pace. Spots of tarmac melted under the intense sun, creating an unnerving sensation that the ground was collapsing beneath her.
‘Has this anything to do with Gene-Asis?’ he asked, approaching an old black utility.
‘Everything.’
‘No surprises there,’ replied Ben.
He dived into the ute’s cabin and, turning on the ignition, revved up the air conditioning to cool the suffocating interior. The back of the ute was open and a number of white sacks lay there, together with a shovel and a red can of petrol. She saw the Gene-Asis logo on the sacks. Serena’s step faltered. She glanced at the writing on them and saw the words ‘fertiliser’ and ‘ammonium nitrate’. Why would an IT guy be driving a ute full of Gene-Asis fertiliser? And, come to think of it, why was he dressed like a gardener? Uneasy, Serena leaned into the cabin. She didn’t get in.
‘Ben, what are you doing with Gene-Asis’ fertiliser?’
‘It’s not mine. It’s my brother’s. He’s a landscaper and I’ve been helping him out. Come on, get in.’
Serena could always tell if people were lying by looking at their eyes. But Ben was still wearing his shades, so she couldn’t see them. Desperate, she got in.
‘So, where we going?’ Ben asked.
‘The city. Can you drop me near the corner of York and George?’
‘Sure. But what’s going on, Amber? Whose life’s in danger?’
Serena hesitated.
‘Amber, you can trust me. I know Gene-Asis do bad shit, remember,’ he said, giving her a sideways glance over the top of his shades. He took a slip road onto the freeway and she saw a sign for Sydney. Reluctantly, she took the plunge.
‘It’s my flatmate, John. I’ve copied some confidential Gene-Asis files. I made the mistake of showing them to him and now they’re going to kill him unless I hand over the disc.’
‘Fucking oath! I knew you were up to something. Your mate’s in deep shit.’
‘I know. We’re doing a swap: John for the disc. I may need you to watch me and call the police if it goes wrong. Will you do that?’
‘Of course. Have you called the police yet?’
‘No. They said if I called the police, John was a dead man. I’m meeting his brother there.’
‘Very wise. And you�
�ve picked a good place to meet them. Nice and public. Leave the police to me. I’ll call them if they’re needed.’
Had she said that she’d picked the rendezvous location? Serena frowned. He must have assumed she suggested it. They were approaching the junction with Highway 3 and she checked out the signs. They said Pymble and St Ives.
‘Ben, we’re going the wrong way. The city’s the other exit’
‘I know a quicker way.’
He sped up and moved into the fast lane. An icy tingle ran up her spine. Something was wrong, very wrong. Outside her window, parched trees, their bark peeling from their trunks, barely moved in the blistering breeze. The carcass of a cat, its guts strewn at the side of the road, rotted in the heat.
‘Ben, I have to be there by four.’
It was nearly 3.00 pm.
‘We’ll be there.’
Serena rubbed her temples, trying to grapple with her increasing feeling of disquiet.
‘So, what’s wrong with your mum?’ she asked, as casually as possible.
‘Er … appendix.’
The same hospital. It can’t have been a coincidence, can it?
‘How did the accident happen?’ Ben asked.
‘I was rammed off the road,’ replied Serena, not keen to discuss it.
‘That’s terrible. Did you see the guy?’
‘No, tinted windows.’
‘I was hit by a truck once. Sent me ploughing into a ditch. Couldn’t believe I walked out alive. Those semitrailers can be lethal.’
Serena’s stomach plunged. She stared straight ahead, frozen, as her mind raced, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She hadn’t said that a semitrailer had hit her. There was only one way he could know that: he was working for Bukowski. He must have been all along. Ben had been spying on the spy, reporting back to Bukowski.
This time they wouldn’t hesitate. Ben was going to kill her.
Chapter 58
Ben cast a sideways glance at her, moving his sunglasses down his nose to get a better look.
‘What’s up, Amber?’
She stared out through the windscreen, trying not to betray her terrifying realisation. She had to let him think she trusted him.
Either side of Highway 3, the bush was charred and black from a recent fire. Only the very tops of the tallest trees clung, desperately, to a few green leaves, the undergrowth still smoking. The sun was low and shining straight at them, which made it hard to see, but in the distance she spotted a service station. Looking at Ben, she forced a weak smile.
