Blood Ties

by JD Nixon

  Somehow, Mountain Ted had managed to escape from custody the next day. I’d read the station’s observation book in which the poor constable had noted nothing in his elaborate script that very day but the forlorn words: Bycraft – disappeared again. He’d moved on himself from Little Town soon after, so there was no record of how his marriage had fared. But out of curiosity I’d researched the good constable and his wife on the internet and discovered on a government database that they’d had seven children together after they left town, so I guess they soon made up from her indiscretion.

  Eventually, Mountain Ted was recaptured and hanged for his many crimes in Big Town in 1897. His execution drew the biggest crowd ever documented for a public hanging in these parts. All the contemporary accounts of his death by male journalists not only noted the extraordinary number of weeping women in attendance, but also reluctantly admired him for the sheer cockiness he showed at meeting his death. His final words to the public were allegedly shouted in a loud, ringing voice: I don’t regret one moment of my life and I thank you well for the fine adventures, my good ladies. He’d received a deafening ovation from the crowd as his neck had broken on the hanging rope, but had left a lot of husbands eyeing their wives with unhappy speculation afterwards.

  In a compilation book of bushrangers, I had once seen a photograph of Mountain Ted, taken by an accomplice or family member. He was posed in one of his campsites, feet spread wide, a pistol in each hand ready for action. A self-confident grin showed his white teeth. Framing his beautiful face were the wild waves of his golden hair, complete with mutton-chop sideburns and an impressive moustache. He was wearing well-filled breeches and a homespun vest over a loose cotton shirt that showed an enticing glimpse of his hard chest muscles. I’d noticed with an unnerving jolt the first time I’d seen the photo that he had been the spitting image of his descendent, Red Bycraft.

  And that, Lavinia Knowles, was truly spooky.

  There were some blankets for the beds stored somewhere as well, but we didn’t currently need them in this warm weather. There were no other facilities in the cells. Any toilet breaks the prisoner needed involved one of us escorting them to the station bathroom on the back verandah. There was nowhere for them to bathe except up at the Sarge’s house. Not ideal conditions by any means. I didn’t know if the Sarge had really thought it through, but one of us would have to be present at the station at all times while we had someone in the lockup, to check on them regularly. That cut our crime fighting force in half straight away.

  We pushed Lola up the stairs and he flung her into the nearest cell, slamming the door behind her. She immediately banged on the barred door, screaming obscenities at him in her shrill, raucous voice.

  “She’ll go insane without cigarettes,” I warned him as we walked through the back door of the station.

  “I couldn’t give a fuck,” he said, still angry, kneeling down in front of the safe. “I’m going to transport this money to Big Town. I don’t feel comfortable with it being in this station with no real security. Especially with all these Bycrafts around. You can stay here, do the paperwork and look after her.” We listened for a moment to Lola’s screeching. “And while I’m in Big Town I’ll check to see if Miss Greville has returned yet and then go talk to the principal of the high school about having so many truants.”

  “Sarge, I’m worried about her family. It could get violent. Please don’t leave –” I didn’t get to say anything else.

  “Fuller,” he said unpleasantly, standing up to tower over me in an intimidating way, his eyes flashing, “maybe you got away with disrespecting the orders of your senior officer in the past, but that was then and this is now. You’ll do what I tell you to without contradicting me or talking back. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sarge,” I said, and even to my own ears I sounded every bit as rebellious and sullen as any one of those Bycraft teenagers.

  He continued, his voice growing even colder, his eyes a darker stormy blue as they raked over me critically. “Ever since I arrived here, you’ve been nothing but insubordinate to me. May I remind you that you are not the officer-in-charge and there’s a very good reason for that?”

  Take another cheap shot, you bastard, I dared in my thoughts, staring back at him with hatred.

  He didn’t notice, overwhelmed by his own anger. “I’m the senior officer and you’d do well to remember that in future.”

  “Yes, Sarge.” My voice matched his for frostiness.

  “Good. Help me repack this money and give me all the paperwork for it,” he ordered. We worked in icy silence until the battered old suitcase was full with cash again. I signed a witness form that there was $104,383 in the suitcase when the Sarge toted it to the patrol car. He drove off with some attitude, spinning the tyres in the gravel.

  I pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and went outside to the lockup to Lola’s cell to hand her the bottle through the bars on the door.

  “Here you go,” I said neutrally, ignoring her cries of complaints. Then she did something that made me sick to my stomach – she tried to be nice to me.

  “Tessie, you know I’ve always thought of you as one of my daughters,” she cajoled.

  “No, Lola, you’re very mistaken about that. What I do know is that you hate me and wished I were dead. You’ve told me so to my face on hundreds of occasions,” I reminded her, matter-of-fact.

  “That’s just my little joke, love, you know that. Now, show me how much you love my Jakey by letting me go. Jakey will be upset when he hears that his mum is in the clink. I know it’s not you who’s put me in here, but that fuckwit of a sergeant you’ve been landed with, and I don’t blame you for it. You would never do that to me, I know. We have an agreement.” She even smiled at me, a hideous rictus grin that did nothing but make me nauseous.

  “No, we don’t, Lola, so you just shut up and be a good girl.” I walked away.

  “Come back here, you pig-faced whore!” she screamed after me.

  So much for the family loving, I thought with resignation. I ignored her cries and went back to the Sarge’s desk to fill in the charge sheet and the lockup observation log, noting the details of when Lola entered the cell and when I took her the water and had a conversation with her. The last entry before today was dated 1997. It had been a while since someone had been locked up in Little Town.

  That done, I turned on the computer and thought I’d spend the time until the Sarge returned trying to catch up on all of the reports I had to write, most of which were overdue. I had the feeling that the Sarge would be a stickler for paperwork. I briefly considered locking the doors, but wasn’t sure I’d hear anyone knocking on the front door if I did. Also, it didn’t seem right to lock out the rest of the Little Town citizens from their own police station just because of the Bycrafts. So I went to work and soon I was engrossed in writing about Dorrie Lebutt and the hit-and-run, blocking out Lola’s screams. After about an hour, I raised my head briefly to realise that she had stopped shouting at some point. That should have made me suspicious straight away, but I was busy pounding the keyboard, getting the facts on to the screen, the prospect of actually finishing some paperwork for once driving me on.

  I had reached the part where Dorrie reversed out of the carpark when the front and back doors to the station flung open simultaneously. Two thumps sounded from the front room as somebody landed on the timber floor after jumping over the counter. I sprang up and spun around quickly, sheltering behind the Sarge’s office chair, to discover that I was encircled by Bycrafts. They’d moved with such speed and stealth that I didn’t have a chance to pull out my gun.

  There were only four of them, but it was the worst four, the older ones. Jake’s brothers, scary Red and the equally evil Karl, had come through the back door. They must have first spent a few minutes letting their mother know that they were here, which was why she had shut up so abruptly. Grae and Al, Jake’s cousins, had come in from the front. Bad news for me – I had history with Red, Karl and A
l. Grae was the only one who hadn’t served some time in the past for assaulting me.

  Red snarled at me, his face distorted with an ugly anger that made his scar stand out starkly pale against the honey-brown skin of his neck. “Get my mum out of that fucking dogbox now or you are going to regret it mightily, piglet whore.”

  I didn’t doubt him for a second about that, but replied with a bravado I wasn’t quite feeling. I pushed my chin out and looked him in the eye. “Not going to happen. Lola’s having a sleepover with us tonight, so you can all just turn around and piss off home.”

  As I spoke though, I backed up against the desk, on high alert. I was trapped and surrounded, my eyes flicking continuously between the four of them. Holding on to the back of my chair, I assessed my situation carefully, my hand inching towards my gun.

  Red shook his head slowly, a cruelly amused smile creeping across his lips. “I don’t think you understood me, lovely bitch.” His fist shot out suddenly and connected hard with the right side of my nose. Instant pain flowered across my face. I put my hand up to my nose in shock, touching the warm wetness of my own blood as it trickled into my mouth. “I meant get her out now!”

  The hurting gave me the impetus I needed to act. But I didn’t do what they expected.

  Instead, without a word or any warning, I pushed the chair violently towards Grae, the smallest of the four. It recklessly rolled across the floorboards before colliding painfully with his knees making him stagger. I took advantage of his momentary inattention and barged through the semi-circle they’d made around me, between Grae and Al. I pushed Grae off balance as I did, and kicked out at Al at the same time.

  My goal was the front door and I was climbing over the counter when Red hauled me back by the waistband of my cargo pants. I kicked out behind me furiously, my boot hitting his chin as I scrabbled to hold on to the counter with my fingers. He grunted in pain and yanked me backwards, three of my fingernails breaking as I flailed desperately on the battered surface for purchase. I fell to the floor in a heap on the wrong side, scrambling to my feet straight away.

  Before I could reach for my spray, his fist smashed into my nose again. My head flung backwards and pain crossed my vision like fireworks, multicoloured dizzying explosions. The trickle of blood became a spurt.

  “Get my mother out of there,” he hissed, voice as cold as a frozen hell. “Now!” He dragged me into the back room by the scruff of my shirt and I kicked out at him furiously until he let me go.

  I loosely crossed my arms up in front of me in defence, ninja style, no desk to hide behind anymore, ready to lash out left or right. My eyes shifted from one man to the next, trying to watch their movements while I considered my options.

  “The Sarge will be back in a second,” I bluffed, trying not to panic, turning to spit out some blood that had run into my mouth. I edged to one side, lifting my right knee up suddenly to block Al from trying to remove my utility belt. Over my dead body would they get their hands on my gun. And that’s what I’d be too – a dead body – if they ever did.

  “Bullshit! We saw him drive off towards Big Town. He’ll be hours,” said Red viciously, moving to backhand me across the face. I raised my arm to deflect and he whacked into my forearm instead. But as I did that there was another punch from the left, Grae I thought, that caught me in the eye, sending me reeling. As I righted myself, Al’s fist also shot out from the left hitting me in my mouth, splitting my lip. I could taste nothing but the metallic tang of my own blood.

  I stood before the four men, panting hard, my face burning with pain. There was no way I was going to hand over the keys to the lockup, thinking of them safely secured in one of the multitude of pockets in my cargo pants. But I didn’t really know how far they’d go to get their hands on those keys, although a brutal frenzy that ended in my agonising death after a sadistic gang rape would not surprise me. I needed help. Abe sprang instantly to mind. He could easily assemble a group of local men to drive the Bycrafts away. I needed to escape the station so I could ring him. I eyed my mobile phone, sitting on the Sarge’s desk, plugged into the wall, charging. If only it was in my pocket, I thought with bitter regret.

  “I am simply loving this, Tessie Fuller,” Red said with a pitiless laugh, running a finger painfully across the blood on my lip. He brought it to his own lips, licking it off with orgasmic relish. He grabbed my hand and pressed it firmly against his crotch. “Can you feel what a hard-on I’ve got for hurting you?”

  He wasn’t lying. I snatched my hand away in disgust, and as I did I turned it into a fist and drove it straight back into Red’s face, smashing into his nose. Then I swiftly raised my left leg to the other side and kicked Grae’s already injured kneecap as hard as I could, making him stumble. Lifting my arm in front of my face, elbow out, I rammed through the four of them again, elbowing Red in his injured face, fleeing for the back door this time.

  I didn’t really know what I was thinking. I had no plan at all. Perhaps I could reach my Land Rover, except I didn’t have the keys on me, I realised. They were sitting in the top drawer of my desk. Maybe I should head for the Sarge’s house where I could barricade myself and ring Abe, except I didn’t have any keys to get inside. I’d just have to head to the street and run until I found someone willing to shelter me and ring Abe for me, except I was too sore to run anywhere at the moment.

  Karl brought me down to the floor of the station with a tackle. He was a quiet man who never said much, letting Red do all the talking, but that didn’t make him any less of a monster. I hit my head above the right eye on the station’s old metal doorstopper, nearly knocking myself out cold. An immediate warm gush of blood into my right eye reduced my vision.

  Karl held my ankles tightly, so I twisted around, rolling over, managing to wriggle one foot free of his grip. He reached for my ankle again and I kicked him in the face with my boot. He let go of me, screaming in pain. And then for good measure, I kicked him again, possibly breaking his nose from the sound of his cries and the amount of blood that flowed from his nostrils. I jumped to my feet and stood watching the others warily, arms up in defence again, desperately trying to hide the fact that I was woozy from the hit to the head. Impatiently, I wiped blood from my eye with the back of my hand, smearing it across my cheek and hair, blinking furiously to clear my vision.

  My back was pressed to the rear door and I was breathing heavily from fear, pain and adrenaline. My mind was desperately racing through every scenario I could think of to get away from them. Karl was out of the picture for a while, moaning on the floor, clutching his nose, but the other three were now incensed and sickly excited as well by the thought of overpowering, humiliating and hurting me.

  “You are one hot little pussy,” grinned Red, blood from his nose dripping down off his chin on to the floor. He flicked his tongue out to lick at it. “Is this what Jakey has to go through every time he wants to fuck you? God knows I love a bitch that puts up a fight, but I am looking forward to teaching you some manners, lovely. I’m planning on finishing the job that Uncle Bobby and Craig left undone.” He laughed, his snake eyes wide and glinting in anticipation. “The things I’m going to do to you today, Tessie Fuller.”

  The very mention of Bobby and Craig Bycraft shoved steel into my spine. “The only thing you’re going to do to me today, Red Bycraft, is kiss my arse,” I said defiantly but awkwardly through my busted lip, blood spraying everywhere when I spoke.

  Al lurched forward to claw at my uniform shirt. I grabbed him by his throat and dug my surviving nails into his Adam’s apple until he started gagging and at the same time, kicked up and out ferociously towards Grae who advanced from the other side, catching him solidly in the chest and knocking him flying across the Sarge’s desk. Abe’s computer crashed to the floor at the impact. I managed to pull out my OC spray and squirted Al at close quarters, then also cracked him across his nose with my elbow in a cruel backwards move, just to be sure. He dropped to the floor howling in pain.

  I turned a
nd squirted Karl in the eyes as well to subdue him and keep him down and out, before Red chopped at my arm to send the spray flying out of my hand. It rolled under the fridge, out of the reach of both of us.

  Grae stirred to my left and stood up groggily, staggering towards me. I kicked up at him blindly while I kept my eye on Red. I hit Grae in the chin, slamming his bottom jaw against the other, his teeth pushing into his upper lip. Blood flowed from his mouth and he fell backwards, crying in agony.

  That left Red and me facing each other. I fumbled at my utility belt and pulled out my gun, pointing it at him.

  “You better piss off and take your relatives with you before I shoot you,” I warned, only a small tremor in my voice betraying my fear. I raised my left hand to wipe the blood free of my right eye again.

  “You think I’m scared of your little girl cop gun, Tessie?” he laughed, advancing on me. “You couldn’t shoot Jakey’s favourite brother, could you, lovely?”

  “You’re right,” I said, shoulders sinking, the life sucked out of me. “What was I thinking?”

  I made as if to re-holster my gun, then quickly raised it again and deliberately shot him in the upper left arm. He screamed in pain, clutching the bleeding wound, and without another word, I charged him, elbow out in front, head down. I knocked him backwards but not over, and he smashed into the filing cabinets, forcing the end one, which had already been leaning precariously, to tumble sideways crashing into the wall. He launched back at me and thumped the gun from my hand where it hit the wall and landed in the corner, behind the fallen cabinet. We both tried to stop the other one going for it, grasping each other’s upper arms and struggling desperately back and forth. I let go with one hand briefly to reach for my baton, but he knocked it out of my hand with his fist the second I freed it from my belt.

  We might have scuffled like that together for the rest of the day, eyes locked in battle. I let go of one of his arms to free my hand to viciously poke my index finger into the bullet wound on his upper left arm. He screamed in agony and reached for my throat with his free hand. I choked while he screamed.