"Nathan." It sounded like a warning. "One of the cops was crooked, working with them, and the rest of them were still alive. Without you to protect me, I'd have died anyway. You'd promised to help me and that made you important. And you never hurt me. Whatever else you did didn't matter any more, because you were going to make things right. Not just atoning for whatever your sins were, but easing the pain of everyone else's, too. You were a scapegoat. A saint. And my hero."
I snorted. "Some hero. Would you like to see where I dumped your body on the beach, almost gift-wrapping you for the bastard who almost killed you while I was looking for a first aid kit in my car?" I strode toward the track, not waiting for a reply.
"Nathan, wait."
I didn't.
"Oh, fine. But I want to take the beach gear with us. After I'm done with the house, I want to wash off every bit of dust and dirt in the water. I won't want to wait for you to get my stuff out of the car." She tugged at the boot of the car, but it wouldn't budge. "Nathan! Open this damn car or I'll swim naked."
For a moment, I smiled, until I remembered where we were. I lifted the remote and lights flashed as the car unlocked for her. She hefted the heavy bag out of the boot and slammed the lid shut, shouldering her burden with fiery determination.
Ah, shit. I couldn’t let her carry that, the gentleman buried deep inside me protested, and I crossed the car park to help her. I lifted the bag easily onto one shoulder and led the way to the beach.
My pace didn't slow when I hit the sand, grinding it beneath my shoes as if I could turn it into finer powder and obliterate the memories the grains held. I stopped when I was level with the bowed driftwood fence post that haunted my nightmares. "Here. This is where your so-called hero left you to be raped one last time, when he'd promised to protect you. That's what you wanted to see, right?" I glanced at Caitlin.
Tears flooded down her face as she hugged her chest tightly. She didn't make a sound.
Oh shit, I was a callous bastard. I wrapped my arms around her, willing her to cry into my shirt instead. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
A sob escaped, but I caught it before she buried her face in my chest to smother the rest. I felt her shaking and my heart sank further.
Caitlin mumbled something and pushed me away. She sniffed fiercely and said, "This is where Mike raped me for the last time, before he breathed his last. And it's where I first knew you'd never hurt me because you killed for me when I couldn't do it. You killed to protect me. That night you became my hero. Here on this sand." She dropped to her knees and stroked the white drifts left by the last tide, before lifting her sandy fingers to point to the spot I could identify as well as she did. "There's where he stood until you shot him. He didn't believe you'd do it, but I knew better. I begged you to end it and you did." She rose. "You think you're a coward, but you're wrong. You've just seen more than any man should and still you fight. Even when you're scared shitless."
My mouth went dry and I couldn't answer. No. She was wrong – seeing good when there was nothing left. There was no heroism in seeking vengeance – just cold, congealing anger and emptiness inside.
Caitlin grabbed my hand. "Where's the track to the house? Show me. We have more demons to kill. And I can't do this alone."
For all her fierce words, I could feel the terror trembling through her fingers. I nodded and led her along the ghostly sand.
SIXTY-FOUR
I stopped beside the last track before the end of the beach. "It must be this one. It's overgrown and it's a long time since I used it, but this has to be the way. It runs through the national park for a bit, then forks and you can go up to the house or deeper into the park..." I trailed off and began again. "I used to walk the beach at night. I'd go up to where Alanna's body was found and then come back, pacing up and down the beach. Sometimes for hours."
"Can you tell me where she was found? I mean you said it was near the spot where you...where you brought me. How much further along was she?" The fear in Caitlin's eyes surprised me. Almost as if she didn't want an answer to her question.
I died a little inside as I lifted my arm. "Up that way, near the café. There's a good surf break there, right beside the resort. An early morning surfer found her and raised the alarm. It was too dark for him to see much, but he saw enough to call the police. Shit, I can't imagine the shock of finding a corpse where you least expect one to be..."
"Let's try the track. If it's the wrong one, we'll come back and try the next one," Caitlin said calmly and I found myself nodding, plodding along beside her.
The breeze died as we entered the dunes, in an unearthly stillness that felt like it was waiting for something. We crested a slight rise and the air seemed to move again, bringing with it the smell of smoke as bushland burned. The easterly wind carried a hint of heat with it, too, as if the fire wasn't far away, though the hot desert winds were rarely cool.
Caitlin inhaled deeply, smiling as I stared. "What? It's a prescribed burn – I'm sure the national parks people have this completely under control – and there's something amazing about the smell of Aussie hardwoods burning. It doesn't hurt them – most Aussie trees come back bigger and stronger than ever before. And the heat makes them...frisky. They go a bit nuts and release their seed after the fire. Talk about red-hot sex." The smoke grew thicker as we continued walking. "How much further to the house?"
I nodded. "Over that hill and we should see it."
I wanted to slow down, but Caitlin's pace only sped up. "I want this over with, Nathan. The sooner we sort out this house, the sooner we can sell it. One more demon put to rest."
How could I deny her the chance to banish a demon? To hell with my fears. What she wanted mattered more and if she needed me, I'd be there for her. Always.
SIXTY-FIVE
I reached the top of the hill and stopped dead. "Oh shit." The trees on the ridge were towering orange torches. There was only a paddock full of stubble between them and the house, and the easterly wind to urge them on. "Looks like the controlled burn's definitely not controlled any more."
"We need to get to the beach and the safety of the water," Caitlin said urgently, unable to take her eyes off the orange wall rippling on the horizon.
I shook my head, shouting to be heard over the roar of flames devouring everything in their path. "It's too late. That wind's driving the fire straight toward the dunes. We'll never make it to the beach. There's nowhere to go."
Caitlin turned on me. "You mean we should just sit here and wait to be burned to death? You might be suicidal, Nathan, but there's no way in hell I'm going out without a fight. That forked track goes north into the national park. Maybe it'll take us to the next beach, or at least a clearing where we'll be safe. It's our best shot."
"NO!" Panic rose up in my throat, tasting of bile, but I swallowed it down. "The other track goes to the bunker. The dark pit where you almost died. That's it." I swallowed. "Angel, it's our only chance."
Her eyes widened in fright. "I don't have a torch. We'll be trapped down there in the dark, waiting for the fire to go past and die down. The whole place could collapse and we'd die there. No. There has to be another way...somewhere else..."
Her fingers gripped mine and she dragged me forward, heading back the way we'd come as sparks flew around us, heralding the firestorm behind.
I was going to burn alive, and then I was going to burn in hell. Terrified, I ran with Caitlin, not daring to look behind. I could feel the heat pursuing us.
A deep boom from the direction of the road was followed by an expanding ball of flame behind the house, raining shrapnel around. The sea mine had still been explosive after all.
A flurry of flaming leaves flew past me, scorching my shirt until I slapped the smouldering cotton out.
Caitlin screamed and I forgot my shirt. The remaining leaves had settled on her and her dress was on fire. I sprinted and slammed into her, throwing her to the ground. Stunned, she didn't even fight me as I rolled us across t
he ground to extinguish the flames. When they were out, I pulled her to her feet, but she sagged in my arms.
Oh shit. Her eyes were closed – I must have knocked her out, or she'd passed out from the pain of her burns. I had to get her somewhere safe so I could see how badly she was hurt. Behind me, the wall of flame roared ever closer, cutting off my path to the house. If there was a house left behind that smoke.
Trees crackled as the flaming leaves from previous casualties set them alight before a grass tree flared up like a petrol-fuelled bonfire. The bunker. Oh God, it was the only place left. If the fire didn't kill me, she would. "Wake up, Caitlin, please."
She didn't wake. Déjà vu – for the second time, I carried her unconscious body down the track to the bunker, knowing that when she woke up, she'd be hurt and angry and I'd deserve to burn in hell for what she'd suffer. Better than both of us burning right now in the hell roaring toward us, though.
My feet carried me down the steps of their own volition. I wouldn't save my own skin, but caring for Caitlin was automatic. I couldn't not do it. And I knew the bloody bunker could save us.
When I reached the cool darkness at the bottom, I leaned against the wall, letting it take some of Caitlin's weight as I yanked my phone out of my pocket and tapped the screen to give me some light. I needed a clear patch with no rubble where I could lie her down. Oh God, what I needed was the mattress that'd been here while we were holding her captive. The one she stabbed when she should've stuck that blade into me.
The room where they'd held her. There'd been a clear space there, surely – one I'd cleared the first time I set foot in there.
I kicked broken bricks out of my way as I carried my precious burden into her former prison. The door lay on the ground now, where it couldn't shut her in. I laid her on that, figuring it was probably the cleanest place in the whole bunker – the only place that I knew hadn't drunk her blood or Alanna's.
I shone my phone around, looking for a mattress or anything else suitable, but this room held only rocks and nightmares. There were others, though.
Swallowing, I headed back into the main room that held the stairs to the surface. A shower of burning debris landed on the concrete steps, chasing the darkness away until it was extinguished as its fuel turned to ash. My eyes had caught a second doorway in the concrete wall, one I'd never seen before. Like I'd ever wanted to explore this place properly.
I stumbled across the rubble-strewn floor and held up my phone to illuminate the mystery chamber. A pile of broken jarrah in the corner marked it as the twin to the sleeping quarters where I'd left Caitlin. And resting against the wall was a mattress. Ominous dark stains on it marked it as the same one I'd carried down here for her comfort before, and now it would help her again. Or at least, I hoped it would. As I dragged it across the concrete, I scanned it for signs of mould or inhabitants. I didn't want her sleeping on a nest of venomous snakes. Caitlin's life had been poisoned enough by her experiences between these cursed walls.
I wondered if there was any ammunition left over from the war, when this bunker had been built. Maybe a bomb or two to blast it into oblivion if we survived this, seeing as the sea mine was gone. So no one would ever suffer here as Caitlin had. Hell, if there were explosives hidden in the rubble and we didn't survive, maybe the fire would ignite them anyway, lighting a fitting pyre.
No. Don't think of that. Caitlin had to survive. No matter what I'd done, she didn't deserve to burn.
SIXTY-SIX
Clenching my phone in my teeth, I lifted up her ruined dress to see the damage to the skin underneath. Would the flashbacks ever cease? Here I was, undressing her after knocking her unconscious. This time I'd done it by accident instead of tricking her into taking sleeping pills, but the similarities were just too numerous to name.
I pawed through the beach bag, praying she'd packed a first aid kit. Or anything I could use to help her, really. Shit, what I'd give for the first aid kit I kept in the car. I'd have killed to be able to run back and get it, just as I had that fateful night, but I couldn't leave her this time. Trapped by fire, I'd have to use what I had and hope we'd survive.
I found a bottle of water and some towels. Better than nothing, I told myself, laying one towel on the mattress and leaving the other for later.
The dress had to come off, along with her singed bra. Her knickers seemed to be fine, but I slid them off her, too, so I wouldn't wet them when I poured the bottled water over her to wash away the soot and soothe her burns.
I ripped a chunk of cloth from her dress and doused it with water, carefully cleaning away the dark patches on her skin as I examined her. Some places appeared an angry red – like a particularly bad sunburn – but the absence of blood and blisters gave me hope. Maybe I'd saved her in time.
Next, I examined her head. Blood matted her hair and I cautiously probed her scalp, looking for the source of it. I found a lump which was oozing blood, but it had almost clotted already. She wasn't going to bleed to death, either. Her pulse and breathing were strong enough to reassure me that she was okay, for the moment. Until she woke up, of course, and tried to kill me for dragging her down here and stealing her clothes. Well, it wouldn't be the first time...
At least I could make her comfortable. I poured the water over the pink patches of skin, hoping it would give her some relief, then shifted her onto the mattress so she could rest somewhere softer than the door that had kept her prisoner.
I shrugged out of my shirt and folded it into the beach bag. She'd need it to cover herself if and when we left here, as all she had left was a pair of undies.
Watching her, I debated whether to try going to find help or even my first aid kit. It's not like it mattered if anything happened to me.
But if I did get caught in the fire, no one would ever know Caitlin was here, needing help. And if she woke up in the dark alone...
Shit, no. I settled down to watch her sleep, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not the beautiful body that had first tempted me all those years ago. Of all the times for my dick to consider resurrection...
I swore and reached for the other beach towel, flicking it out of its neat folds until it covered her completely. There. Now I wasn't perving on the girl I couldn't have.
As if to bolster my self-control, my phone emitted a warning beep that said the battery was dying. I should've charged it last night, but who'd have guessed I'd be using it as a torch in a bushfire today? Not me. I sighed as the faint phone light faded, leaving us in darkness.
Now I couldn't even watch her. And if she woke up in the dark and thought she was alone...there'd be screaming for sure.
I felt for her body, my fingers encountering the thick flannel of her beach towel coverlet. I tucked it around her and stretched out on the edge of the mattress, resting my arm on top of the towel. If she woke up, at least she'd know she wasn't alone.
SIXTY-SEVEN
"Where are my clothes?" Caitlin shrieked. "I'll fucking kill you!" She lurched to her feet, a hunched shadow staggering toward the doorway and the light outside. The inferno outside.
"NO!" I shouted, striding across the rubble to tackle her before she could walk to her death. She struggled in my grasp and I tightened my hold. "There's a fire outside, remember? It's not safe. We have to stay here until it's burned out."
"I can't stay here in the dark," she whimpered. "Turn some light on. Your phone. A torch. Something. I can't. I can't. Not in the dark." She slumped against me, sobbing, and I guided her back to the mattress.
I didn't dare loosen my grip on her, though. "The battery died about an hour ago. There's no mobile access underground and all that trying to connect must have flattened it. Yours, too. I checked. We just have to hold on until it's safe."
"Hold on to me. Don't you let go, Nathan. I'll go crazy in here alone. I need you close to me." As if to illustrate her point, she squirmed closer to me, pressing her face into my chest.
Oh God, I felt her bare nipples harden against my chest and that wa
sn't all that was hardening either. Shit, no. Of all the times to magically recover from impotence, this had to be the worst timing in the history of fucked-up timing...
"Yes," she whispered. Her hands slid down my sides, dragging the waistband of my shorts with them. My shorts and my undies slid down to my knees, my dick rising from the dead like a zombie before swelling harder still against the soft skin of her belly.
I groaned as her fingers stroked me, hesitantly at first and then firmly, decisively. "Angel, no. We can't do this here. In the bunker where you nearly died, on a mattress stained with your blood, with a fire raging above that might still kill us..."
"Sure we can. With death so close, how can you think about anything but sex?" The way her hands were squeezing me, I couldn’t think of anything else. She continued, "Make love to me, Nathan. Chase the terrors away and make me forget where we are and I'll do the same for you. Stop overthinking this."
"I almost raped you here. In this room. I can't. I can't!" I wailed. I was lying through my teeth. If her hands continued their delicate ministrations, I was going to explode.
"You wanted to sleep with me. That's normal, Nathan. You want to do it now – I can feel it." Another squeeze that made me moan. "It's not rape if I'm willing. If I'm begging you for it, and I will. Please, Nathan."
I shook my head. "You don't beg. You're too strong and too proud to beg."
Her lips touched my cheek. "No one else, maybe, but I'll beg and plead with you. When I lose to my own weakness, your strength shines through. It did then and it will now. Be my hero again, Nathan. Please." She wiggled against me, driving me mad. "Drive every memory out of my head so all I can think of is you and what your body is doing to mine. And how I want more." She pushed me onto my back, her soft curves still pressed against me. And one was softer and hotter and wetter and...
Afterlife of Alanna Miller Page 21
