Like Twigs in a Storm

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Like Twigs in a Storm Page 4

by Ross Richdale


  "So you're awake," Ryland muttered. "That's good. You can help unload."

  "What's happening?" Steve muttered and gazed around. Lavina and Cathy were still slumped unconscious in the back.

  "I gave 'em a needle to keep them out," Ryland said. "Can't have bloody nagging females screaming and bawling, now can we?" Steve stared at the man. Thoughts of retaliation swept into his mind but were immediately discarded. He wasn't a pilot so, like it or not, the three of them were at Grant Ryland's mercy.

  "This is the situation," Ryland ambled on in a voice that was too casual. "I'm a gambling man and, you wouldn't believe it but I like you, young fellow. Bloody great job you've done fixing the old school and letting the locals use the swimming pool was real kind. I guess it's not your fault Lavina here got her hooks into you."

  "Get to the point," Steve growled. Ryland glanced at him and Steve noticed the man's enlarged pupils. Steve had seen pupils like those before, round and dark with a lighter circle around them. He shuddered. Ryland was under the influence of some drug, which could be why the conversation was so casual. Steve wiped his dry lips and contemplated his next action but realized that at the moment all he could do was to try to pacify Ryland.

  "Oh yes," the farmer grunted, "I'm giving you a chance. If you come through, you can have Lavina. Cathy too, if you wish."

  "What chance?" Steve said calmly.

  "I'm dropping you all off on the top tussock. You have supplies for four days and a small tent. If you can make it out, you're home and hosed." He shrugged. "Of course the weather's turning to the worse and I heard snow's on its way in. I'd say you've got about a twenty percent chance of making it out. Normally it would be a three-day hike."

  Steve stared at the man. "That's just cold blooded murder," he whispered. "That's your wife and daughter at the back there. My God, man, just dump me off but take Lavina and Cathy home."

  "She's no wife of mine," Ryland's voice turned hard. "A slut who sleeps around doesn't deserve to live."

  Steve swallowed. "But Cathy!"

  "Yes, I was thinking about that. Sweet kid but she can be a ripe pain."

  Steve was no longer able to remain calm. "You're insane," he burst out, clenching his fists.

  "Would you rather I just tossed you all out? As I said, I'm a gambling man. I'm gambling you won't make it out." He laughed. "If you do, you can keep Lavina. Tell her if she comes to the farm again I'll use my shotgun. They're long odds, though."

  Steve clamped his mouth shut; frightened any comment would aggravate the situation. He watched as the bush and valley below changed to a high plateau of tussock. The flat area moved like an ocean as the brown plants waved in the prevailing wind.

  The pilot pushed the steering column forward, the engine rumble changed to a quieter pitch and Steve saw a narrow strip of stunted grass. A tatty orange windsock shook horizontally on a bent pole at the end.

  "Your new home is an old topdressing strip." Ryland laughed as a small, lethal automatic appeared in his offside hand. "One false move and you get it in the neck, Garnet," he continued, his tone now threatening "Bullet two will be the girlfriend and bullet three her daughter. You have their lives in your hands."

  "Okay," Steve muttered, moving his hands out wide. His eyes blazed with fury as he stared at this monster.

  "Good. I'll miss Lavina in some ways. Great figure."

  Steve gritted his teeth but said nothing as the aircraft's engine cut back, the flaps lowered and wheels touched ground. Moments later they had halted. Under Ryland's direction, backed by the automatic, Steve half dragged and half lifted Lavina and later Cathy out of the back seat and carried them away from the Cessna. It was freezing and an icy wind cut directly into him. He hauled three canvas bags out from behind the back seat and tossed them on the ground.

  "Shut the door," Ryland snapped. His frame was turned and the revolver aimed straight at Steve. "No last heroics. Think of the girls all by themselves."

  "Can I have that first aid kit?" Steve asked and nodded to the small tin container fastened to the fuselage just beside the door he was closing.

  "Sure, why not?"

  Grant Ryland watched as Steve pulled the item off the wall and slammed the door shut. "By the way, there's an old track down, due north. See yah in hell, buddy!"

  The engine roared and Steve flung himself to the ground as the pilot made a violent hundred and eighty-degree turn and a wing whizzed over Steve's head. The Cessna accelerated up the grass strip with the motor screaming at full revolutions in the high altitude. Wheels lifted, wings wobbled and it was gone. The engine sound faded and was replaced by the forlorn moan of wind across the tussock.

  Shivering, Steve pulled his jacket close. He had to make a shelter before everyone froze. After finding Lavina and Cathy's condition unchanged, he checked the bags. There was one heavy-duty sleeping bag that he unzipped and used to cover the two unconscious victims while he continued his inspection. Thank God! One bag contained a small tent.

  It took some doing in the freezing wind but Steve found a slight dip and clipped together the aluminium poles, hooked on the guide ropes and had the small tent assembled. He unzipped the front; dragged Lavina and Cathy inside over the blue fabric floor and zipped up the flap. By now, his hands were blue and every breath puffed out huge clouds of condensation. The next bag contained the rations, adequate for five days if rationed. There was a two-litre container of water, and a small gas cooker with a screw-in cylinder of fuel. The third had spare clothes for Lavina and Cathy.

  Grant Ryland was true to his word. Everything was designed to last exactly four days. Whether Lavina's husband was insane, a ruthless killer or reckless gambler, Steve didn't know, but at least they were safe for a while. He blew on his hands and decided to crawl into the tent to restore circulation to his numb limbs. He'd wait until the others woke up and then perhaps light the cooker.

  He wriggled in between Lavina and Cathy, zipped the tent shut and pulled the sleeping bag over them all. With chatting teeth, he lay looking at the orange roof above and held his lover and her daughter in a close embrace so slowly their body heat flowed into him and, for the first time since leaving the plane warmth returned to his aching body. Outside, the wind howled across the bent tussock. A large black cloud blotted out the sun and the temperature dropped.

  *

  Fifteen minutes later Lavina woke up and stared, dumbfounded, at the tiny orange fabric surrounding her.

  "Steve!" she stuttered. "How did you get here?"

  "I'll explain," Steve said, moving slightly so both arms encircled her. He kissed her on the cheek and brought her up to date.

  "Oh my God, Steve!" Lavina's eyes filled with tears. "He was like a mad man. I thought he'd kill me at the farm!"

  "Forget about it," Steve soothed. "We're safe for the moment "

  "Cathy!" Lavina suddenly screamed. "She tried to protect me and he just flung her aside. I've seen him like this before. He could kill her... my God, Steve!" Her whole body shuddered as she buried her face in his chest. Huge sobs came and continued for several moments while Steve just held on, stroked and kissed her hair.

  "Cathy is safe," he whispered in her ear.

  "How do you know?" Lavina snapped. "You don't know! Grant was high on drugs. He could have done anything." Her sobs continued with large tears rolling down her shivering, white face.

  "She's with us, Lavina." Steve arched himself up on one arm so the twelve year old could be seen behind him. "Cathy hasn't woken up yet but her pulse is strong."

  Lavina stared. "Cathy," she whispered as her expression went through a series of emotions. "Oh Steve," she cried and hugged him again. "The bastard's left us here to die. I'm so sorry. I should never have come to your place that day. It's all my fault"

  "We will be okay, Lavina. We're together and have got Cathy. I wouldn't want it any other way." Steve gave a small grin and moved back into a crouch position at the front of the tent. "I'll get us something warm to drink."

  After z
ipping his jacket right up, he opened the flap and crawled out into the freezing air. He found the cooker and secured it in some loose dirt behind a small bank. Time ticked away but it wasn't too long before a small tin of vegetable soup was almost to the boil. As the soup simmered, Steve searched for some bowls or containers, finally finding three plastic mugs. His thoughts were racing, and he didn't hear Cathy stir.

  The girl's shrill voice filled the air. "Mum! It's all your fault! You know what's Dad's like! You didn't have to screw Steve."

  The zip of the front flap was yanked down and Cathy came flying out, her eyes red with tears. Without even glancing at Steve, the girl jumped to her feet clamoured up the small incline to the left and disappeared out of sight.

  Lavina's own tearful face appeared. "She doesn't understand. I tried to explain."

  "Okay," Steve said. "You look after the soup and I'll go after her."

  Lavina nodded and Steve chased after the girl. Freezing wind hit him as soon as he came over the rise but Cathy was already fifteen meters away on the short mossy airstrip, pounding her legs as if it were a hundred meter track race. She was fit and fast but Steve was faster.

  He caught her with a firm grab of the shoulders and waited for flinging arms and scratching fingernails to assail him, but they didn't. Instead, the youngster just turned and sobbed with uncontrollably into his chest.

  "Your mum loves, you, Cathy," Steve said quietly. "When she woke up, the first thing she asked about was you."

  "I know," Cathy sobbed. "I heard and pretended to be still asleep...but I was right."

  "How?" Steve said kindly.

  "If Mum hadn't sucked up to you, Dad wouldn't have got mad and done this!" She shivered and gazed out at the bleak tussock.

  "And your mum's unhappy life would have continued. I repeat, she loves you Cathy. She told me you were the only reason she'd stayed with your father."

  The youngster looked up. "But why did she go to bed with you?"

  "She was lonely... and so was I, and..." he stumbled over the words. "I love your mother, Cathy. Is that wrong?"

  "What you did was." She pouted but the anger died a little in her voice.

  "Yes it was," Steve admitted. "In a perfect world we wouldn't have sneaked away to be together. But if your father treated your mum with love and respect, she wouldn't have needed to find love elsewhere. Remember, it was you who told me how disgusted you were with your father."

  Cathy nodded and wiped a finger in the corner of each eye. "That's the trouble, Steve. I love Mum and I want her to be happy." She glanced up. "Why couldn't you have been my Dad, Steve instead of that pig of a man."

  "Perhaps if I had met your mum thirteen years ago, I might have been, but look at it this way. If it weren't for your Dad, there wouldn't be an intelligent young lady here with me right now. I'm sure he wasn't always bad."

  "No, only the last few years," admitted the girl, "He was good to me until I went away to school, then he changed. Mum and him would barely talk and when they did it was one big argument about the farm, money or his women. He just ignored me or snapped orders all the time. The more I tried to please him the more critical he became."

  "And your mum was going through that all the time, Cathy. At least you had a break when you went back to school."

  The youngster burst into tears again. "I was so lonely, Steve. I'd cry myself to sleep in the dormitory and the older girls teased me. When I was at school I wished I was home then at home I wished I was back at school."

  "Well that's over now but please don't blame your mum. You're all she has now."

  "No," sniffed Cathy. She stood away from Steve and swished her hair back.

  "What do you mean?" Steve asked.

  "She has you, Steve and I'm glad." A smile appeared through the tears.

  "We all have each other." Steve grinned. "I have no family so, with your permission, I'd like your mum and yourself to be my family, the three of us."

  "But I'm just a nuisance to have around."

  "Never, Cathy." Steve gave Cathy a gentle hug. "Never in a million years. Come on. Let's go back to the tent before we freeze."

  "Right, Steve."

  When she saw Lavina walking towards them, Cathy broke out of Steve's arms and ran into her mother's. "I'm sorry, Mum." She cried and buried her head in her mother's neck. “I love you."

  Lavina held her and glanced over the shuddering shoulders until her eyes found Steve. "Thank you," she mouthed and there was relief in her eyes. "Come on, sweetheart, our soup's getting cold."

  She walked back with an arm around Cathy but reached back with her other hand to find Steve. Cold fingers gripped his hand and squeezed so hard he had to smile. Somehow, he didn't even notice the cold wind buffeting them as they headed back to the warmth of their tiny tent.

  *

  CHAPTER 5

  "We have to get off the tussock before nightfall," Steve warned. "It's cold now but will be far worse after dark."

  Cathy stood shivering until Lavina placed the sleeping bag around her shoulders and told her to sit in the shelter of the bank while she and Steve took the tent down.

  "What way are we going, Steve?" Cathy asked.

  "Your father told me to go north where there's a track."

  "That means we go south," Lavina snapped. "I know Grant well enough to know he would never plan an elaborate abduction like this and volunteer information to make it easier for us."

  Steve frowned. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes," Lavina replied. She glanced out over the tussock where two white-capped mountains rose in the distance. "They would be pretty much to our north. We should go the other way." She smiled and hugged her daughter. "Don't worry. If this was a topdressing strip, the chances are there is a track of some sort to provide access for the service vehicles."

  "That's a point," Steve admitted. "Okay, girls. South it is."

  He handed the tent pack to Cathy and slung the heaviest backpack over his own shoulders. Lavina placed the remaining backpack over her shoulders and they were off. The wind was a westerly and pounded them from the side. The tussock provided only irritation as the sharp thin grass-like leaves hindered every step as they plodded on. After an hour, Steve took Cathy's bag and placed a supporting arm around her shoulders. Lavina slipped her arm through Steve's other arm and glanced up into his eyes. Their cheeks and hands were freezing but momentum kept the rest of their bodies reasonably warm.

  "Are we getting anywhere, Steve?" Cathy asked. Her blue lips contrasted sharply with the red perspiring face and neck.

  "Yes. See that tiny row of trees ahead?"

  Cathy squinted ahead. "Those? "

  "That's right. That's the bush line where we're heading. The trees are much closer than when I spied them half an hour ago." He turned to Lavina. "Do you want to stop for a rest?"

  "No," she panted. "Let's keep going. It's four o'clock. It's less than two hours before the sun goes down."

  Steve felt exhausted but was overwhelmed at the fortitude of his companions. Neither of them complained or slowed him down; in fact it was almost the other way around with him having to increase his own stride to keep pace with them. The straps from the backpacks were beginning to chafe and he was sure the lightweight shoes he was wearing had caused a couple of blisters.

  With infinite slowness, the row of trees grew taller and the tussock changed to spiny bushes. The going was easier now with more room between the vegetation. The tussock petered out; the bushes became overhead height and blocked the view behind. Underfoot, the ground became muddy and they had to squelch along in single file with Steve leading and Lavina supporting her daughter from the rear. It was also warmer with the bushes cutting out the wind.

  Another hour passed and they were in shadows with the sinking sun out of sight. Still they plodded on. Steve felt Cathy's hand tucked into his belt and heard Lavina begin to sing a little tune he remembered from school days. Cathy joined in and soon they were all singing together as they moved forward.

>   "Look!" shouted Cathy when they came to a small rise. "The bush!"

  Steve stood and placed an arm around his companions. They'd reached the edge of the plateau and there was now a steep descent to a tree filled valley. The large trees they had seen earlier lined the opposite hillside and now appeared to be above them.

  "Is that water I hear?" Lavina said. She reached up and kissed Steve on the cheek, flushed and glanced in embarrassment at her daughter.

  "Mum, I don't mind," Cathy replied in a serious voice. "You kiss Steve all you want. We're a family, now."

  Steve smiled and rubbed her hair. "That is water," he said. "Probably the beginning of a stream. You can hear it bubbling over rocks."

  They stopped talking and listened. There was the distinct murmur of a chattering stream and the call of several birds. After the monotonous howl of the wind on the tussock, it sounded positively friendly.

  They reached the stream, a tiny tumble of water splashing over smooth rocks between two grassy banks. With just enough vision in the falling light to erect the tent, the trio set up camp before sitting down to remove smelly socks from aching feet. Steve did have two large blisters but Cathy's feet were in a far worse condition. Her little toes on both feet were swollen and a blotchy red and black. She winced but never complained when Lavina smeared on antiseptic cream and wrapped them with bandages.

  Steve found a torch in the bottom of his pack and placed it by the tent flap for easy access and started the cooker. Water from the stream appeared to be clear of contaminants but Steve still warned against drinking it.

  "There should be some purification tablets in the first aid kit, " he said. "The giardia parasite is in most streams now-a-days." He fumbled through and found a sheet of foil encased tablets and added one to a pot of water. "It'll be fine by morning," he said.

  The darkness crept in, together with insects and night noises, hoots, crackles and the friendly stream cackling. After a small meal, everyone looked better. Steve had no extra clothes to change into so he just joked about walking upwind from everyone in the morning.

 

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