Dead Dry Heart_A psychological thriller

by Toni Pike

  They were probably just a freak of nature, but something even stranger happened. Those lights seemed to be a harbinger sent to foreshadow the arrival of a stranger.

  There was a full moon that illuminated the beach and our campsite, reflecting on the breaking waves. A man appeared at the top of a nearby sand dune, standing still and staring down at us.

  I was afraid that he was the walking dead or an outback serial killer. My mother always said that someone like that would come and get me and chop me into pieces. “Look over there,” I cried, trying to attract my parents’ attention for once.

  With a long and languorous gait, the man walked towards us. He was tall and skinny, with tanned and weathered skin as if he’d been out in the sun for far too long. As he came closer I could see that he was probably in his late thirties, about the same age as my father. All he had with him was a backpack.

  My mother stepped behind Dad as if that would protect her. My father was frozen, too petrified to move a muscle or even blink an eye.

  Chapter 2

  We were in the dark in the middle of nowhere. No wonder my parents stood there trembling, eyes wide and mouths gaping. I ran over and hid behind the rocky outcrop, hoping that the stranger wouldn’t see me and praying he wouldn’t hurt me.

  He called out in a deep voice. “Are you all right – do you need help?”

  “We’re fine,” replied Dad.

  “I thought your van might be broken down. It’s dangerous around here, you know.”

  “Dangerous?”

  He reached the campfire and stood next to it. I cupped my ears so that I could hear every word he said.

  “If you get lost out here then you’re in serious trouble,” he said. “You should always stay with your vehicle, even if it breaks down. Don’t try to walk and search for help, that’s how people die.”

  “We wouldn’t do that, mate,” said Dad. “We’ve been travelling around Australia for quite a while so we know about the risks.”

  The man relaxed his shoulders and put his backpack on the ground. “That’s good to hear. There are so many tourists who don’t understand what can happen. What are you doing out here?”

  “We’re camped for the night and might stay a few days. I reported our plans to the police before we left Broome, just to be on the safe side.”

  That, of course, was a lie. My father never went near a police station – he liked to keep away from them so that he was free to do whatever he wanted.

  “Most people stay in the caravan park, fifty kilometres up the road.”

  “Caravan parks are too expensive for us. We like to camp by ourselves, just follow our own rules.”

  “Me too, but I don’t have a family to look after. I hope I didn’t startle you before.”

  My father leaned on one foot and then the other like a cat about to pounce on its prey. “We might move on tonight and take a look at that caravan park,” he said.

  “Yes, that’s a good idea, Peter,” said Mum, her voice tight as if she was nervous.

  The stranger moved into the full light of the campfire and I could see that he had dark hair. “My name’s Joshua Byrnes,” he said.

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “I’m Peter Thompson and this is my wife, Kylie.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Mum, feigning a smile.

  “And who’s that over there?” he asked, pointing at me. So much for my hiding place.

  “That’s our son,” said Dad. “Get over here, Tyler.” I skulked out from behind the rocks and joined them.

  “Pleased to meet you, Tyler,” said Joshua, shaking my hand. No one had ever done that before.

  “How did you get here – do you have a car?” I asked.

  “Don’t be rude, Tyler, mind your own business,” snapped my father and then turned to the visitor. “Sorry about that - he doesn’t have any manners.”

  “No, it’s a good question,” he said with a kind smile. Suddenly I liked him, or at least I feared him less than my own parents. “I’ve been walking in this area for a few weeks. I saw your fire in the distance and thought you might need help. Normally no one stops along here at night unless they’re stranded.” The moonlight and campfire cast a bright light on all of us and he saw me rubbing my sore hands. “How did you get hurt?” he asked.

  “He had an accident and fell over on some rocks,” said Dad. Then he added some details to make the story more convincing. “A bad fall, earlier today – we told him not to run around.” My father was an expert liar.

  Joshua glared at him. For the briefest moment I thought he understood the truth – but he said nothing, as if he believed his story. People often saw me being treated badly, but they always looked away and never said a word. Sometimes, just like this man, they asked a question but my parents were always able to spin a web of lies and no one ever helped.

  “Where are you staying for the night?” asked Mum.

  “I’ll set up camp further down the beach.”

  He was making no attempt to move.

  My father twitched nervously, not knowing what to do. He was short and thin and once, when I was standing outside a bar, I heard a drunk call him a puny weakling. I laughed to myself for hours after that and thought it was the funniest joke I’d ever heard. He was terrified of fighting another man, and Joshua towered over him.

  I suppose I should have wanted my father to be safe. But deep in my heart I was pleased to see that he looked so scared. “Would you like a beer?” he asked, trying to placate the visitor.

  “Yes, Peter, that would be good,” he replied.

  “One beer coming up,” said Dad, handing him a can.

  Joshua took a gulp and then looked at us as if he was plotting something.

  We settled down beside the fire, but my father scowled at me when I sat next to our guest. Flies darted around our heads and the ocean breeze made the flames dance.

  “This is the life, it’s a lovely night,” said my mother.

  “It’s always a beautiful night around here,” said Joshua.

  I touched my feet and spasms of pain made me grit my teeth.

  “Stop that, Tyler!” said Dad. “Don’t play with your feet or you’ll go to bed with a clip around the ear.” He took another swig of beer.

  Joshua narrowed his eyes. “What have you done to them, Tyler?” he asked.

  “I burnt them on the sand.”

  “I’ll take a look, I know about stuff like that,” he said. My parents didn’t know what to say and I could tell they were fuming. He examined the soles of my feet and locked eyes with me. “I might have some ointment that will help to soothe them a bit.”

  “Thank you, that would be good,” I said.

  He fumbled for quite a while in his bag until he found an old jar of balm that he gently rubbed into my skin. “I don’t know what’s in this stuff, but it usually helps to ease the pain.”

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” asked Dad. “That’s my son you’re dealing with.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, desperately hoping that he wasn’t about to start a fight. “Thank you, Mr Byrnes.”

  “You can call me Joshua.”

  “Okay.” I flinched as he touched the most painful spot.

  “You’re very brave, you know that?”

  “I am?” That was the first time anyone ever said anything good about me.

  “You sure are. You shouldn’t walk around on the sand here without shoes, it’s very dangerous.”

  “He’s an idiot,” said Dad.

  I saw Joshua frown but he said nothing. Did he understand that I needed help? I heard once that everybody had an angel who looked after them. I decided to ask some questions, in a whisper so that my father wouldn’t hear and tell me to shut up. “Why are you walking around out here?” I asked.

  “I’m an outback wanderer,” he replied, also in a whisper.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m all by myself, and I’ve been walking around the outback for years. I don’t wan
t to be near the big cities.”

  “You’re not a bad man, are you? Do you hurt people?”

  “No, never – you should never hurt anyone.”

  “Tyler, what did you say?” snapped my father.

  “Nothing, Dad.”

  “Don’t be rude, haven’t I told you that?”

  For the next hour, my parents continued drinking as if they wanted to break a world record. Then he asked me to get some more beers from the van. I ran to the vehicle and returned as fast I could. When I handed the six-pack to him, I felt a flash of pain as he stubbed his cigarette on my arm.

  “Don’t you dare do that,” said Joshua with a shocked look.

  “It was an accident,” he replied, but then he roared at me. “Stand over there and hold that rock again, right now.”

  I knew better than to argue. I ran over and picked it up.

  “You’re a cruel bastard,” said Joshua to my father. I could tell he was angry, but wasn’t expecting what he said next. “Put that down, Tyler – come over here.”

  “It doesn’t hurt him,” said my mother, slurring her speech. “He needs discipline.”

  Joshua exploded like a bomb. “I’m taking him and reporting you to the police!”

  Dad went red in the face. “Are you out of your mind? Are you crazy? Get out of here!”

  “You people are monsters,” said Joshua.

  “Monsters? You should look at yourself,” shrieked my mother.

  “He’s eleven years old, he’s not a baby,” said Dad, taking a step back.

  “He’s a child and under your control.”

  My mother grabbed the barbecue tongs, the nearest weapon she could find.

  My father took hold of a beer can and held it like a hand grenade. “Get out of here!” he roared.

  Joshua picked up his backpack and ran over to me.

  My father then spoke in the nicest voice I had ever heard him use. “Come over here, Tyler.” Did he really think I’d be convinced by a sudden show of sweetness?

  Joshua took the rock in my hands and put it on the ground. Then he spoke to me softly. “Come with me now, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

  I realised then that he was my guardian angel come to rescue me. Here was a chance to escape with someone to protect me. I looked up at him and wanted to say yes. But what if my father stopped him? Then I’d be punished a million times more than ever before. And Joshua might be a dangerous man after all – a serial killer or child kidnapper.

  I almost said yes, wanted to say yes.

  “I can’t,” I replied.

  “Please, Tyler, you need help,” he said with an imploring look.

  “No, I have to stay. I’m fine.” That was the most difficult thing I ever said and it changed my whole life.

  “What are you doing with that boy, you pervert?” yelled my father. “Get away from him before I call the police.”

  Joshua hesitated and looked at me one last time, but I turned my head away.

  He ran off into the night, heading over the sand dune and disappeared from sight.

  My sense of hope vanished with him.

  ***

  “Has he gone – have we got rid of him?” asked Dad. He scanned the scene then broke into a smug smile. “Hey, I scared him off.”

  “I thought he might be about to kill us,” said Mum. “He was definitely one of those crazy psychos you hear about.”

  Dad glared at me, stabbing his finger in the air. “We’re leaving first thing in the morning. This is your fault, Tyler. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, Dad,” I said, regretting my decision to stay.

  “Go and stand in that water.” He pointed towards the beach where the moonlight reflected on the breaking waves.

  An icy chill curled down my spine. “No, the sharks come close to the beach at night.”

  “Do you want me to come in with you – is that what you want?”

  That scared me more than any shark. “No, please.”

  “Get into that water up to your waist - and I mean now.”

  I headed into the water, struggling against the force of the waves and terrified of what could be circling me in the darkness.

  My father headed towards me and I wondered if a shark might grab him before he reached me.

  “Get out of there, both of you!” yelled Mum.

  My father took hold of my upper arms and dragged me out. He stopped when we reached the dry sand and I lay there hugging my knees.

  “Bring me a smoke,” he shouted.

  Mum strode over, lit a cigarette and handed it to him. “There you are, now stay out of the water.”

  He coughed loudly. “Come over here, Tyler.”

  I stood up and walked over to him, determined not to show my fear.

  “What are you going to do, Peter?” asked Mum as if she was having a conversation about a pleasant day.

  “Stand up straight,” he said to me. Once, when I was very small, we had a stamp pad and it was fun to stamp designs on a piece of paper. Now I knew that he was about to stamp me with his cigarette. Petrified, I swung around and ran back into the water just to escape.

  My father ran straight after me, though in his drunken state he stumbled a couple of times. He managed to reach out and grab hold of my arms, then held my head and forced me under the water.

  I thought my life was ending. Finally, he hoisted me up and my whole body heaved as I gasped for air.

  His face was twisted. “Why do you make me so mad, Tyler? Why can’t you behave yourself?” He held my arm and led me back to the beach. “What did you say to that man?”

  “Nothing, Dad.”

  “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not lying. We didn’t talk about anything.”

  “Get my stick for me please, Kylie.”

  “Okay, Peter, I think that’s what he needs.”

  My mother walked over to the van and emerged with a stick covered in gnarls that my father found in the bush a few months earlier.

  “Please don’t, Dad. I’ll do anything you say,” I begged, knowing from experience what was about to happen.

  “You don’t know how to do anything I say. You never do what you’re told.”

  He stood beside me and raised the stick high in the air. My body stiffened in terror.

  A man’s voice cut through the darkness. “Put that down, you evil bastard!”

  Joshua ran down the sand dune, coming to my rescue.

  My father dropped the stick and turned around just as Joshua reached him. My mother screamed as he punched Dad in the jaw.

  He fell to the ground, seemingly knocked out cold.

  Joshua gently cupped his hands around my face. “Are you all right, Tyler?” he asked.

  I nodded in reply and felt dizzy as if my head was spinning.

  My mother ran over and jumped on him, hitting him with her skinny arms in a furious volley. “You animal!” she shrieked.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” said Joshua as he tried to deflect her blows. She stumbled back but then picked up the stick and charged towards him as if she was coming in for the kill. He raised both arms to fend her off and push her away, but accidentally punched her in the face.

  She lost her balance but Joshua caught her as she fell. Then he laid her gently on the ground, rolling her onto her side.

  I watched this in a state of frozen shock. Mum made a soft moaning sound, so I guessed that she was probably okay.

  “We have to go, Tyler,” he said. “This is really serious – you can’t stay here. We have to find the police.”

  It struck me then that Joshua had saved me. The police would come and take my parents away. They would be sent to jail for a hundred years and I wouldn’t see them any more.

  But then I recalled how my parents loved to tell lies. They would say that Joshua hurt me and pretend to be the most loving parents in the world. There would be no escape for me. The police would hand me back to them, and Joshua would be d
ragged off to prison. My parents would smile at me in front of the police, give me a hug and tell me I’m a good boy. When they drove away, everything would return to normal.

  Me, Mum and Dad – and I knew they would punish me like never before.

  I decided to take the only chance I had to escape and wanted to make sure that I never saw my parents again.

  Joshua was leaning over my mother, trying to see if she was all right. He had his back to me.

  Peter Thompson was spread out on the ground near me, knocked out cold as if he was dead drunk. I reached out and picked up the rock that I’d been forced to hold.

  Racing over to my father, I raised it in the air and smashed it on his head with all my might. The bones of his skull caved in and I knew that he wouldn’t hurt me any more. I hit him again and the rock was splattered with blood.

  Joshua spun around and jumped to his feet. “No Tyler - what are you doing?” he cried in a voice that didn’t sound human.

  I stepped back in alarm as he ran over. Falling to his knees, he bent over my father’s body and made a strange whimpering sound.

  The rock was still in my hands, so I walked over to my mother. She was stirring as if she was waking up. Without pausing to think, I smashed the rock against her head three times then let it drop to the ground.

  Joshua looked up and let out a scream that still echoes through my brain.

  He rushed over and stared at her, his face contorted in horror.

  “They’re both dead, Tyler,” he said, repeating the same words over and over. “You’ve killed your parents.”

  ***

  The present day

  Canberra

  My memories are blurred by a fog of confusion and fear, but I know what happened.

  Even now, I can still hear him say those words as if he was right here with me in this room. After being forced to reveal the truth at last, I’m still waiting to discover if my family are safe. I’m not fabricating a story just to secure their release - my confession is the truth, if there is such a thing.

  Joshua Byrnes had nothing to do with the murder of Peter and Kylie Thompson. He’s as innocent of that crime as a newborn baby. No one should have the least suspicion that he was responsible or that somehow he might have been complicit.