He might come to regret those words. She couldn’t blame him, though. The man was just trying to protect his granddaughter, a situation he wouldn’t even be in if Maggie hadn’t turned up on their doorstep. She tried not to think about that.
The front door opened, just a crack. Maggie raised the gun. Ready for the trap she knew was coming.
The girl pushed the door open a little further. Framed there against the light, she looked especially delicate. She stood there and didn’t move.
‘In,’ Frank said. ‘Now.’
She hurried forwards and shut the door behind her. Her gaze darted from Frank, to Maggie, to Allie then back to Frank, whose gun was half-raised.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ Kate whispered.
‘Bit rich,’ Frank said.
Kate spoke fast. ‘You’ve killed a whole bunch of us.’
‘Because you attacked.’ Frank’s voice was terse. ‘You attacked my fucking home.’
Kate shook her head wildly, like a child. ‘I didn’t want to!’ Her voice was wavering. ‘I didn’t . . . I had nothing to do with any of it, but I had to come along and now they’re making me . . .’ A sob escaped her. She put her hand over her mouth as if trying to hold it back in. She glanced sideways, at the doorway to her immediate right. ‘Can I sit?’
Frank nodded. Shuffling awkwardly, never looking away from Frank, Kate moved up the hall and into the living room, towards the couch. Maggie followed close behind her. Allie lingered back, hovering just beyond the doorway.
Kate sat. She put her head in her hands. ‘I don’t want to be here.’
‘You’re the ones who can walk away from this,’ Frank said. ‘We don’t have much choice.’
‘I can’t walk away from family,’ Kate said.
‘I feel like you can break that rule when your family murder people for fun,’ Maggie said.
Kate lifted her head. She looked at Maggie.
‘We don’t have much time,’ Frank said. ‘What do they want?’
Kate raised one hand and pointed at Maggie.
‘Out of the question,’ Frank said.
‘They’ll leave you and the girl alone if you hand her over,’ Kate said. ‘If you don’t, they’ll burn you.’
‘She acted in self-defence,’ Frank said.
‘She murdered them,’ Kate replied. ‘Kev, Matty, Kayden. Steve.’
‘I escaped,’ Maggie said. ‘They killed Simon. I found your . . .’ The memory still made hot bile rise in her throat. ‘Your shed. Where you keep the bodies.’
Kate was shaking her head again, furiously. ‘I’ve never been in there. Never. I hate . . . I hate what they do.’ She stood.
Frank and Maggie’s guns went up.
Kate raised both palms, slowly.
Frank’s eyes moved to Maggie.
‘They won’t let you live,’ Maggie said. ‘You know that.’
Frank held her gaze for several seconds.
‘You . . . you have to give her up,’ Kate almost wailed. She took a step closer to Frank, then headed for the window, movements faltering and uncertain. ‘I can’t . . . Reg and Mal and the others . . . they’re friends, family, and they’re dead now and that’ll just keep happening if you don’t end it now. Please. Please.’
Neither Maggie nor Frank said a word.
Kate stared at them, imploring. ‘Please. I don’t want anyone else to die.’
‘Except me,’ Maggie said.
‘It’s not up to me,’ Kate said. She backed away from the window, towards the door to the hall. ‘I didn’t want this. I promise. But if you say no, they’ll set the place on fire and . . .’ She was sobbing openly now. ‘Please. I want to go home. I just want to go home.’
‘Tell them to leave,’ Frank said.
‘They won’t.’ Kate was almost in the doorway now. ‘You know they won’t.’
‘I know they’ll kill us as soon as they have Maggie,’ Frank said. ‘I dropped just as many of you as she did.’
‘They’ll keep their word,’ Kate said. ‘I promise.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Frank said. ‘Maggie is going nowhere.’
Maggie felt a flare of warm, surprised gratitude.
‘Then you know how this ends,’ Kate said.
‘I know how your people want it to end,’ Frank said. ‘I don’t plan on giving you that.’
‘But you have to,’ Kate said. ‘Because there’s only one way out now.’
She moved fast. So fast Maggie didn’t have time to get her gun fully up. She sprang into the hallway and grabbed Allie, one hand on her neck, the other gripping her chin, and yanked her into the living room. Frank made an inhuman sound. His gun was raised but he didn’t pull the trigger.
Allie, wide-eyed and trembling, was between them and Kate.
‘Don’t get fucking trigger happy now,’ Kate breathed. ‘One shot, one sound they reckon is a bit dodgy and whoosh, you’re a barbecue.’ Even through the hair, Frank could see exposed teeth. ‘You move funny, and I break the little bitch’s neck. Just like I did the Pommy slut out there.’
‘Let go of her.’ Frank’s voice was guttural. ‘Please.’
Allie shifted slightly, movements jerky, uncertain. Kate’s grip tightened. Allie’s eyes found Maggie’s.
‘Please,’ Kate said. ‘How many fucking times did I say please? You ignored all of them. Why shouldn’t I do the same? Why shouldn’t I do what I want to this one?’
‘Don’t,’ Frank said. ‘Don’t.’
He moved forwards. Maggie flung out a hand to stop him. She felt Frank look at her, felt the fury and panic in his gaze but ignored it. She returned her hand to the shotgun. Allie was still looking at her. Maggie gave her a tiny, almost imperceptible, nod.
‘I won’t.’ Kate jerked her head towards the front of the house. ‘If Maggie drops that gun and walks outside.’
Allie closed her eyes.
‘Bit fucking different now, eh?’ Kate said. ‘You can be all high and mighty when it’s me on the receiving end of your bullets, but when it’s the little girl, whole other story. Go on, Maggie. Look at the old fella. Look at his face. He’s seconds away from grabbing you and throwing you out the front himself. If we told him to, he’d rip you apart with his bare hands, just to save this one. You can’t walk away from family.’
Maggie didn’t look at Frank, but, almost unconsciously, she felt the shotgun twitch in her hands.
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Kate said. ‘You know I’m not bullshitting. You know how this goes. So what now, Maggie? Gonna shoot him, smash his head in like you did to my Steve? Gonna get everyone killed to avoid turning yourself over for what you know you fucking well deserve?’
Allie’s hand was at her waist. She looked at Maggie again.
‘Let go of the girl, Kate,’ Maggie said.
Kate snorted. ‘Nah. Nah, I’m not gonna do that. I’m gonna hold her nice and tight. Like I used to when Steve and I went bush. When I’d break ’em and he’d cut ’em.’ Her eyes locked on Maggie’s. ‘Sometimes we’d fuck in the blood.’
Maggie kept her face blank. Her voice level. ‘You should let go of the girl, Kate.’
‘That’s your problem, cunt,’ Kate said. ‘You don’t learn. You shoulda known we’d come for you. You shoulda known you couldn’t run. But you tried and now it’s gonna be much fucking worse. So for once, learn your fucking lesson and shut up.’
‘Last chance,’ Maggie said.
Allie seemed to convulse. A glint of metal, brief in the dark then gone. Kate gasped and staggered back. Allie burst out of her loosened grip, ran to Frank, still holding the knife.
Maggie levelled the gun at Kate.
Kate’s hands clutched her stomach. They were already covered in blood. She looked down at the wound, then up. She took a step towards them, crumpled and collapsed.
Allie was frozen to the spot, staring at Kate. Gently, Maggie took the bloodied knife from her hand.
‘Cellar,’ Maggie said. ‘Now.’
‘Y
ou’re gonna burn,’ Kate managed from the floor. ‘You’re all gonna burn.’
‘Maybe,’ Maggie said. ‘But you’ll burn with us.’
Holding Allie, Frank led the way. Maggie hurried to join Frank and Allie, as fast as her leg would allow.
‘She’ll scream,’ Frank said.
‘Not if she wants to live, she won’t,’ Maggie said. ‘Quick.’
They had reached the trapdoor. Frank pulled it open and directed Allie to go down. She didn’t. She looked at Maggie.
Maggie touched her face. ‘You were brilliant. More than brilliant.’
There were tears in Allie’s eyes. She shook her head.
‘Hurry,’ Maggie said.
Allie clambered down into the cellar.
‘You next,’ Frank said.
‘It’s a shit climb with my leg. You go first.’
Frank looked like he wanted to protest.
‘Go,’ Maggie said.
Frank climbed in after his granddaughter. Maggie went to follow, then—
She slammed the trapdoor shut above them.
She fell to her knees, grabbed the key from her pocket, and locked the door. Thumps came from below, but nothing else. They couldn’t risk the sound.
Wincing, Maggie stood, slowly. The pain had ebbed and flowed all night, but now it was fire again. Just like back in the trees. She turned.
Kate had come to and managed to stand. She leaned against the wall at the end of the hall, eyes locked on Maggie. Her clothes were drenched in blood now.
Maggie didn’t move.
Another thump from the trapdoor, then nothing.
Kate lurched forwards.
Greg sat against the side of the ute and waited. He wasn’t scared anymore. He wasn’t anything anymore. Just flattened. He had been so stupid. Stupid to run away from all the good things he had back home. Stupid to think Keith Echolls mattered enough to let everything slip out of his fingers. Stupid. Even if he survived this, home wouldn’t be the same again. Not after what he’d seen. What he’d done.
Nobody else spoke. All eyes were fixed on the house. The only sound was the hum of the engines. Everyone was waiting for gunfire, or else a scream. Anything but this quiet.
In front of him, Trent glanced down at his watch. ‘It’s been almost twenty minutes.’
‘Wait a bit longer,’ Janice said. ‘Kate’s got this.’
Trent shook his head. ‘Nah. I don’t think she fucking does. I think that bitch killed her just like she did Steve and Kev and Reg and the rest. And I’ll be fucked if anyone else is gonna die for her.’
Janice went to grab him, but he shoved her away. He turned and called out. ‘Get the kero. Let’s light this fucking joint up. It’s time we got home.’
‘Trent, please,’ Janice hissed. ‘Just a few more minutes. Just—’
They all heard it. Movement from the house. Silence fell fast and hard as all eyes went to the front door.
It opened slightly.
Greg’s breath caught. He wanted to stand, but his legs wouldn’t comply.
The door swung the rest of the way open. Kate stepped out into the light.
Her hair, red streaked through the blonde, hung in her face. Her clothes were soaked in blood. She was holding a shotgun across her body. For a moment, she swayed on the spot. Then she veered forwards.
Nobody moved for her.
Another step, then another.
‘Kate?’ Janice said.
Kate didn’t reply. She just kept moving. One tilting step after another. She passed the light, moved into the dark between the cars. She stopped, holding herself up on the vehicle across from Greg.
Janice came closer to her. ‘Kate. Katie, love. Did you get her? Did you get the bitch?’
Kate opened the car door and clambered in.
‘Kate, what the fuck?’ Janice bent down and leant in – just as Kate’s knife tore through her throat.
Janice stumbled back, eyes wide, blood spurting from her neck. She fell back. Blood dribbled from her mouth as she tried to speak and her eyes lost focus.
And as she dropped, so did Kate’s scalp.
Greg only caught the briefest glimpse of her face. Slick with blood. Terrible and full of iron rage. Like something out of the worst of nightmares.
Trent howled. Gunfire filled the night. The car reversed fast away from them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
None of it mattered anymore. Not the speed she was going. Not the fact that she could hear the gunshots from behind or that she was covered in the blood of a girl she had killed just minutes ago before cutting away her scalp, easy as skinning a rabbit, and wearing it. None of it mattered because that thing that had woken at the top of that staircase in Melbourne, that thing inside her that she had held at bay until it returned in the bush and then again tonight, was in control. It thrummed through her like the most powerful electricity. She pulsed with it. It wanted them to come for her and it wanted to face them down.
She saw the highway ahead and the burnt-out husk of the roadhouse. She spun the wheel and the car skidded hard until it hit bitumen. She pulled the wheel back and then she was racing along the highway, away from it all, the stars ahead bright and blazing.
In the rear-view mirror, she saw their lights. She saw them and she screamed, but not in fear.
The car vanished into the grass and everyone moved at once. Trent was hunched over Janice’s body. Others fired at the fast disappearing car, now just a gleam in the night.
Greg stared at the matted, bloodied fan of blonde hair lying in the grass. Unbidden, the image of a knife sawing into Kate’s head filled his mind. It didn’t make him feel sick. It didn’t make him feel anything. He remembered the snap of Delilah’s neck.
Trent was standing now. If there had been violence in those sunken eyes before, it was nothing compared to now. He pointed at Greg, then to the tray of his ute. For a second Greg was ready to refuse. Ready to invite the bullet so this could be over. But Trent had already moved on, opening the door, barking orders as he did.
‘Gus, Zack, with me. Joe, torch the place. Stay here until it’s gone.’
Greg was frogmarched to the tray by a gaunt, bald young man with a rifle over his shoulder. He clambered in, hunching beside a pile of bricks. Others got in around him, guns at the ready. Greg looked towards the house. In the harsh light, he could see people moving, cans of kerosene in hand.
Then the lights pulled away as the car reversed and Greg held on tight. The ute swung around and then it was barrelling after Maggie, thrown up and down by the bumpy ground. The fear wasn’t there anymore. Not really. He looked back. Past the others in the tray with him. Past the cars following in their wake. To where, around the base of the house, a fire had started.
In the dark of the basement, Frank pulled Allie close to him. The gunshots continued outside, along with the shouts. They seemed to echo in his head. How much blood had he lost?
‘What did she do?’ Allie whispered.
Frank shook his head. He didn’t know.
‘Why did she . . . why did she lock us in? What’s she doing?’
It was impossible to see the other exit in the dark and he wasn’t about to risk turning on the torch. ‘Either something very stupid or something very clever.’ He let go of Allie and walked over to the external cellar doors. He moved up the smaller staircase and put an ear to the cobwebbed wood. The shouts were receding now, along with the gunshots. He could still hear a low buzz of indiscernible voices, then slowly they started to quieten until it was eerily silent. Frank looked back at Allie. She was just a shape in the dark, but he knew she was staring at him.
‘Did they . . . Are they gone?’ Allie asked.
Frank didn’t reply. It could have been a trick to lure them out. His eyes tracked over to the entry Maggie had locked. He couldn’t hear footsteps inside the house, but that didn’t mean much. Something in his chest loosened, very slightly.
‘They’re gone,’ Allie said. Her voice was high, relieved.
‘They’re gone, aren’t they?’
‘I don’t know,’ Frank said. ‘For now we have to stay put. We have to . . .’ He trailed off. Something was wrong. It took him a moment to realise what it was.
He smelt smoke.
A bullet shattered her driver-side mirror. Maggie pulled the steering wheel hard. The car swerved. Bitumen exploded upwards as it was hit, pieces slamming off the side of the car. She checked the rear-view mirror. Six lights. Three cars chasing her. She estimated they were under two hundred metres behind. She couldn’t afford to be more exact than that.
She glanced to the passenger seat. Her shotgun was still there, along with a bottle of kerosene.
A bullet went through the glass behind her, flew so close to her ear she felt the heat, then out the windscreen with a crack, magnified to deafening in the enclosed space. The windscreen held. A hole and the web of cracks growing from it was in the dead centre. If the glass gave, she was fucked. The wind would be too much, she wouldn’t be able to drive – not to mention what the shower of glass would do. She looked sideways again, at the bottle of kerosene. Clocked the screwed-on lid, the size of the thing.
She heard bullets whistle past her, centimetres from the car.
The accelerator couldn’t go down any further. She pressed it anyway.
Frank saw the realisation strike Allie. She stepped back, looking around wildly as she did. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No, no, no . . .’
As fast as he could with his left arm still bound to his body, Frank ran, crossing the room to the larger staircase, the one that exited into the house. He started up it just as he saw the first dark fingers of smoke coming through the gaps. Through the wood he could hear the crackling of fire. ‘Bastards,’ he said. ‘Fucking bastards.’
‘We have to leave,’ Allie was behind him, tugging at his right arm. ‘Please, we have to leave.’
Frank looked back at the other exit. His heart was getting faster and faster by the second. He breathed in and tasted smoke. The pain in his shoulder pulsed. He felt like he was about to collapse.
‘Let’s go,’ Allie shouted.
‘They might still be outside,’ Frank replied. ‘If they are . . .’
The Hunted Page 19
