Blood & Dust

by Jason Nahrung

  Taipan shrugged. 'Can't tell you that till we get there. If that VS mob finds out where she is, they'll come after her with all guns blazin'. I ain't gonna let that happen.'

  'Wouldn't Mira have sucked that info out of Nigel?'

  'Nah, that surfie didn't know shit. Never did trust him.'

  'And Kala doesn't know either?'

  Taipan studied his cigarette. 'Prob'ly not. Still, another reason for us to get where we're goin'.'

  'Jesus,' Kevin said, leaning against the sign and looking out where the road vanished into night. 'Don't you get tired of never trusting anyone, of always looking over your shoulder?'

  'Sometimes. You get used to it, eh. Best idea is to keep movin', I reckon.'

  'So that's your home, is it? The road.'

  Taipan gestured toward the bitumen. 'Yep, that's me: always happiest on walkabout.' He grinned.

  'You're full of shit, aren't ya.'

  'You figured that out, eh?'

  'How long have you been doing this - been, y'know?'

  Taipan shrugged again. 'You lose count, after a bit. It's all just one day after another.'

  'How do you keep going then? Every day, just more of the same?'

  Taipan laughed. 'Tell me this, fella - who don't? Who don't just live every day, more'a the same?'

  'Where's the point?' Kevin hit the map, making the tin wobble.

  'All I know is somethin' me father told me when I was a young fella, before they came and took me to the mission school. Me old man said to me, you can't go back, you gotta look ahead. If you're lookin' over ya shoulder, you're bound to run into somethin' in front of you.'

  Taipan chuckled and took a drag, making the cigarette glow all the way down almost to his lips. 'He was talkin' 'bout drivin', but it still makes plenny good sense, eh.'

  'Yeah, I spose it does. Where is he now?'

  'Died in a car smash,' Taipan said, tossing his cigarette. 'C'mon, we're burnin' night time.'

  They were a few kilometres down the track before Kevin realised that Taipan had never known his father. He really was full of shit.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Taipan pulled up opposite the airport on the eastern side of Longreach. They were facing the tail end of a jumbo, part of the Qantas museum. The facility seemed to be throwing up as much light as the rest of the town combined. It was about nine o'clock; there was barely any traffic. The airport's car park appeared empty, though at that distance it was hard to tell due to intervening trees.

  'Whaddya think?' Taipan asked.

  'They still got flights this time of night?'

  'Like we was gonna fly. We might play it safe and take the scenic route, eh. Don't wanna fuck it up when we're this close.' He turned off the headlight and took a left off the main drag. They passed the hangar-shaped roofs of the Stockman's Hall of Fame, the oversized jackeroo sculpture out front the only witness to their passing, and then ran out of road, but Taipan didn't stop, just slowed down as they steered onto a gravel track that became little more than wheel ruts in a paddock. They crossed a gully and followed a westerly track till they reconnected with the main road running south out of Longreach. Once out of sight of the town's feeble glow, Taipan turned on the lights and gunned the bike.

  An hour and a half later, just when Kevin thought his arse had been permanently spot welded to the bike seat, a faded, flaking sign loomed near a turn-off and Taipan slowed. The sign's metal surface was peppered with bullet holes. Stonehenge, it announced, population a hundred and a bit. A dangling piece of timber advertised last year's annual rodeo, back in November, and another mentioned the township's other claim to fame - home to a piece of Australia's famed Jindalee over-the-horizon radar. Some disgruntled wag had sprayed the words 'fly in fuck off' over it.

  'Livin' under the radar,' Taipan said with a laugh, and he drove farther south a short way before again slowing, to turn onto a dirt track.

  A timber sign at the fork, the crossbar askew like a rotting gallows, bore the words 'emu farm' in barely legible black paint. They nosed past bare paddocks, the bike bouncing over corrugation, sliding in bulldust. They topped a rise and slowed some more as they approached a farm. The old homestead, with a peaked iron roof that curved over the veranda, sat inside a perimeter of mesh fencing twice as tall as Kevin. Sheds dotted the compound. There was no sign of emus.

  They pulled up outside a wire gate. Two squat dogs trailed dust and sharp yaps as they charged across the yard, stopping only to avoid hitting the fence. Taipan waved a hand and the dogs went quiet.

  Bit of heeler in them, Kevin thought, heeler or kelpie, one a speckled grey and the other black, and both of them all teeth and curiosity. Their eyes glinted blood-red as they switched their attention between Kevin to Taipan, alternately yipping and whining, caught between the want of a pat on the head and the need to rip the stranger's throat out.

  Two guards appeared from a nearby feed shed - a couple of sheets of tin nailed to a simple timber frame - and walked over, guns held loosely by their sides, their eyes flashing crystal green in the bike headlight's dusty glare.

  'It's me,' Taipan said. 'Tell Mother we're here.'

  The men greeted him. 'She's takin' the rays down at the rock pools but shouldn't be too long,' one volunteered. He wore a maroon and gold football T-shirt with a lion on it. His mate sported a Mohawk, possibly dyed in the same team's colours. Both wore loose leather vests. Kevin didn't need to see the logo to know they were Night Riders.

  Mohawk spoke into a two-way radio. 'Taipan's here with a whitefella. I'm openin' up.'

  He grabbed a pole that leaned against the gatepost, and for the first time Kevin noticed the grisly additions - the pole and each fence post was topped by a skull. Cows, dogs, a sheep with curved horns. Mohawk lowered the skull - a bullock with horns draped in feathers, a smear of what had to be old blood on its forehead between the vacant eye sockets. As soon as the skull touched the earth, Kevin felt something in the air - some kind of current or vibration - break. The guy in the Lions jersey unlocked the gate and ushered them through. As he relocked the chain, Mohawk sliced his hand on a knife and swiped blood onto the skull, then lifted it once more.

  'Good to have you back, cuz,' the Lions supporter said, more obviously relaxed, his rifle slung over one shoulder. He clasped hands with Taipan, a kind of high-five with thumbs on top. 'Mother said you had some trouble, eh.'

  'Plenny.' Taipan paused. When he continued, his voice was low. 'Any of me mob make it back?'

  'That Acacia, she came in a coupla nights ago. Surprised you didn't hear Cassie squealing from wherever you were. Kept the rest of us up, that's for sure.'

  'Too right,' Mohawk said. 'So who's that fella there?'

  'A fella I ran into. A mechanic. One of us mob, now.'

  The guards exchanged a glance. 'Go on down, she'll know you're here,' said Mohawk.

  Kevin felt their stares like laser sights on his back as Taipan steered down the slight slope to the main building. The dogs, tails wagging, yapping intermittently, ran beside the bike.

  Acacia, in jeans and singlet, appeared in the doorway of one of the largest sheds. Her face caught between a relieved smile and a mighty yawn, she gestured Taipan over and shooed the dogs away.

  Taipan ran the bike in, finding space between the Rover and a Jeep with its bonnet up; a lamp hung from a hook overhead.

  The bike burbled to silence. Kevin stepped off, gingerly testing his regenerated foot for support. Better. Not a hundred per cent, but at least it could take his weight. No crutch required.

  'We were starting to think that maybe you weren't coming,' Acacia said.

  'Me, too.' Taipan stepped from the bike and stretched. 'Good to see you, 'Cacia.'

  They embraced and Kevin thought he saw tears in her eyes. 'Just you?'

  Taipan nodded, hugged her again.

  She stared at Kevin over Taipan's shoulder. He couldn't read her expression, didn't know if that was good or bad.

  'So who did you kill to get this place?
' he asked.

  She flinched.

  'No one yet,' Taipan said, the threat obvious.

  'You don't have to be afraid,' Acacia said. 'We didn't bring you all this way just to murder you.'

  Way to go, he congratulated himself. How to lose the closest thing to a friend he had, just because he was scared shitless. Would the Night Riders really help the man who'd led to the slaughter of so many?

  A flash of light behind her caught Kevin's eye - a door opening and shutting at the house. A girl walked toward them - late teens with shoulder-length corn-blonde hair, wearing cut-off shorts and a tight T-shirt. A little chubby, definitely cute. She ran the last few steps to give Taipan a rib-cracking hug. 'Cuz, you made it!'

  'Cassie.' Taipan stepped back and the girl stood by Acacia, an arm around the woman's waist. Acacia draped an arm across Cassie's shoulders.

  'This is the new fella.' Taipan indicated Kevin with a jerk of his thumb.

  'Kevin, isn't it?' Cassie said. 'You two look totally knackered. I'll take you up to the house, hey. Get you something to eat.'

  'I'll finish off here.' Acacia gave Cassie a peck on the cheek. 'Be up soon.'

  'You betta get that truck sorted out,' Taipan said. 'We might need to move in a hurry.'

  Acacia swore, and the sound of metal on metal followed them as they left.

  Cassie led them up the few stairs onto the veranda. They took off their boots, Kevin favouring his healing foot. The two heelers lay on either side of the door, reminding Kevin of the lion statues that some fancy folks put on either side of their front gate. The dogs raised their muzzles from their forepaws in tandem, sniffed, then resettled.

  'Good boy, Byely,' Taipan said, kneeling to pat the white dog, and then having to reach over to do the same for its whimpering companion. 'You too, Cherny.'

  Cassie ushered them inside. 'C'mon, I got a brew on.'

  They went down a hallway, the walls marked with bright rectangles of paint. Music played softly behind a closed door, a radio announcer blared behind another.

  Cassie heated mugs in the kitchen. 'The good stuff.'

  Kevin took one gratefully and let the decanted human blood calm his nerves. It went down way too fast; he swayed as the infusion flowed through him, setting his foot to tingling and leaving him craving more.

  Dogs barked, answered by a whinny outside the kitchen. Cassie went outside, closing the back door behind her. Kevin glimpsed a caravan, dented and dusty, and someone leading a horse, the two heelers panting at its hoofs.

  'Mother's back,' Taipan said, and finished his drink. 'You better show some manners. She don't hafta take you in, y'know.'

  'Do I get a say in that?'

  'You said plenny already. Just shut up and maybe learn somethin', eh.'

  Cassie returned soon after. 'I'll take you to the study. Mother's on her way.'

  Kevin rinsed his mug - Kala would've approved, he thought with a twinge - and followed the girl and Taipan up the hallway. He felt like a duckling flopping around at the end of the queue. Tail-end Charlie was always the first one to go, right?

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The study felt cooler than the rest of the house, snug, the walls draped in dark cloth and smelling of incense. Soft carpet. The only furniture was a crammed bookshelf along one wall and a large wooden chest against another. Kevin glimpsed words like The Final Solution, World War and Supernatural. Cassie lit candles around the room, then gestured for them to sit on the square cushions on the floor. They sat, facing the wall and its shuttered window. Crystals hanging from the ceiling caught the light like a broken mirror ball. A shadow passed across the doorway. Kevin turned. A middle-aged woman entered, hugged Cassie, then shut the door after Cassie left with a promise to be close by if she needed anything. The newcomer stank of horse; under that, some kind of herb, thyme perhaps.

  The spice rack in the kitchen, his mother sorting through, lamenting her latest failure to grow cardamom from a seed; his father saying a bit of salt 'n' pepper was all it needed; and his mother saying, 'You aren't that spicy, Mr Matheson'; and the bolognaise being so bloody good, flecks of mince and sauce splattering the table where the spaghetti got out of control; and him muttering and his mother shaking her head, that gentle, gentle smile.

  'Mother,' Taipan began, but he fell silent as the woman stood next to him and nursed his head against her thigh. Her hair hung in two dark braids, as dark and glossy as a crow's wing, her features somewhere between Russia and China, the eyes slightly almond shaped, the brows heavy, cheeks severe. But her expression was pure compassion as she said, 'I heard; felt. A sad day.' She sighed. 'I wish you could let her go.'

  'She's my sister.'

  'Willa hasn't been your sister since Turner sank her fangs into her.'

  'And what about me? She did me, too.'

  A hand in his hair. 'That she did. And yet, here you are.' She glanced at Kevin. 'And this one?'

  'Somewhere between makin' and wakin', Mira got her fangs into him. I thought maybe we could use him to track her down. Get even.'

  Did her face harden, just then, when Taipan said Mira's name? Kevin couldn't be sure. But clearly Mira was not in the woman's good books. Or perhaps scared her.

  What chance did Kevin have if the Night Riders' grand guru was afraid?

  'And still you think of revenge,' Mother continued.

  'What else is there?'

  'Survival.'

  'What makes you think they're different?'

  'Ask Penny and the rest.'

  Taipan pulled away, and the woman hugged herself as though suddenly cold.

  'Sorry,' she offered. 'That was petty of me. "I told you so" won't bring them back.'

  Taipan rubbed his face with both hands as though waking from a nightmare. 'But you're right. I made this fella and somehow that bloodhag got her hooks in him.' He hit his leg in frustration. 'I shoulda checked. I shoulda bin more careful; maybe I shouldn't'a gone at all. It's my fault so many have bit the dust.'

  'It was their choice to follow you. Be careful you don't weigh yourself down with guilt that isn't yours to bear.'

  She studied Kevin, appraising but sympathetic, a vet diagnosing a sick pet.

  'Now, what's this about Mira riding this boy?' she asked Taipan.

  'His old man and me, we done a deal. Only, this fella ain't sleepin' so good.'

  'Bad dreams?' She squinted, as though she could see through Kevin's clothes, and Kevin fidgeted, not knowing what he should say, if anything. Her expression softened. 'My name is Danica, though most of this bunch of miscreants call me Mother.'

  Dan-ee-tza: the way she drew out that ee, twirled her tongue around the last syllable, sounded far too exotic to be out here in this isolated dust bowl. She should've been a pole dancer or a circus performer - trapeze maybe, with her slender, tightly muscled build.

  'Kevin,' he replied finally, his name sounding brutally common and sadly insufficient.

  The scuffed toes of riding boots poked out from the bell-bottomed hems of her trousers. The front laces of her puffy shirt hung loose as though to show off the numerous pendants she wore. She reminded Kevin of a sideshow fortune-teller with her big hooped earrings and wrists jingling with bracelets. What the hell was she going to do - read some tea leaves? They'd come all this way for this?

  She kneeled beside Kevin. 'Yours has been a difficult journey and I fear it's far from over.'

  He wanted to say 'no shit', but the woman's presence didn't encourage rudeness. He winced when his addled mind came up with, 'Um, Taipan's told me all about you.'

  'Really?' She settled in a cushion facing them, then lit a small brazier; the flame cast an orange glow on her dusky skin. Her dark eyes caught the light. Pungent incense wafted into the room. She smiled, full lips parting to reveal perfect white teeth. Such dainty hands, flashing with rings.

  'There,' she said. 'That's nicer, isn't it. Now, let's have a look at you.' She held out her hand.

  Kevin didn't move, confused.

  'Give it over,'
Taipan told him, pointing, and Kevin belatedly extended a hand.

  Danica sliced his wrist with a fingernail, her grip holding him firm as he jerked under the sudden pain, and bent to draw a mouthful of his blood from the wound. She sat back, eyes closed, and began to rock ever so slightly.

  Kevin glanced at Taipan but the biker's gaze was fixed on Danica's face, his features set in a mask of adoration. The wound on his wrist throbbed but the bleeding had stopped; he held it in his lap as Danica zoned out. The beginning of a headache beat behind his temples. The room heated up, closed in around him. His heart pounded. What the hell was she doing to him?

  Then the sensations ceased as though someone had snapped their fingers.

  Danica opened her eyes, revealing irises of liquid violet.

  Her voice sounded husky, almost echoing, as she told him, 'You've been marked, Kevin. Marked with blood.'

  'What does that mean?'

  'It means Mira has traded blood with you. She uses the link to invade your dreams and possibly even your waking thoughts. The risk is real.' She frowned, causing a sense of unaccountable unease to sweep over him. 'But we're a long way from her and the power fades with distance.'

  Her brow smoothed as she nodded to herself, licked her lip as though tasting the last of his blood. She held his gaze. 'You will never be truly free from her while she possesses a sample of your blood.'

  'I don't think she took any,' Kevin said. 'Not like in a bottle or something.'

  Got you. But you, you do not have me.

  'She has her ways,' Danica said, staring at him; into him.

  'I did what I could to keep her out,' Taipan said, fingering his pendant.

  'You did well,' Danica said. 'And this place has its own protections. From what I can see, the immediate threat to us is small.'

  'Still, they might'a captured one of me pack. Kala, maybe, or one of them others. We oughta do somethin'.'

  'What would you suggest?'

  He paused, then said in a rush, 'We got the firepower. Let's take 'em out, once and for all.'

  She shook her head. 'You know that's not my way.'

  'Damn it, Mother, all this slinkin' and runnin'-'