Two-Way Cut

Home > Other > Two-Way Cut > Page 2
Two-Way Cut Page 2

by Garry Disher


  She went back to the pharmacist. Its a bit embarrassing, I’m supposed to take a urine sample to the doctor but I left the sample jar at home and…

  The pharmacist glanced at Leah’s backpack and frowned.

  Leah smiled disarmingly. I’m staying at the caravan park.

  The pharmacists face cleared. He sold Leah a sample jar, said, You can use the loo out the back, and turned to an elderly man who had banged his ankle and couldn’t stop it from weeping. The old man was deaf and soon he and the pharmacist were shouting at each other to be understood.

  Leah stepped into the corridor and opened and closed the toilet door without going in and used the din in the front of the shop to cover her exit by the back door.

  She found herself in a weedy yard. A gate at the end opened onto an alley, which led to streets and more alleys and eventually to an oily paved area behind a service station. A proper map, thats what she needed.

  Five minutes later she was strolling out of town as if she had all the time in the world and no criminal intentions that might concern the good citizens of Tiverton. According to the map, there was a state park one kilometre to the east. A secondary road ran through it, and if she was lucky shed catch a ride before it got dark.

  Another tip from her unwritten guide: Remember that in the long shadows and setting sun of late afternoon, drivers may not see you until its too late.

  chapter 3

  It was not Leah but her backpack that caught the full force of the passenger-side bumper of the muscle car. Leah had positioned herself at the far end of a rest stop, her pack at her feet, beyond the rubbish bins and two metres clear of the tarmac, giving motorists plenty of room in which to pull off the road once they’d spotted her. But the sun was low on the horizon and fell in a hard bright band across the raked windshields of the passing cars. Leah saw the drivers squinting against it, unable to see her. She could cross the road and hitch a ride in the opposite direction, but east meant back to the city, and her old strife, so she stood where she was and waited for someone to slow down and pull over. Then that muscle car veered at her suddenly, leaving the sealed surface, all four tyres spewing dust and gravel, tail twitching as the driver sought traction, and then it was upon her. Leah stepped back instinctively and flinched as her pack was flung aside like a… like a body.

  Her heart hammering, Leah stared after the car, which fishtailed past her in the dust and stopped, its brake lights flaring. Other instincts kicked in then and she coolly noted the colour, make and number of the carfire-engine red, latest model Monaro, this years registration and prepared to run.

  But something made her hold back. There had been an element of panic and confusion in the motion of the car, as though it had not been choreographed to kill her. Sure enough, the front doors opened a moment later, a young guy getting out of the passenger side, a young woman out of the drivers side. The young woman spoke first, her voice shaky.

  God, are you okay?

  And the guy said, Jeez, when I heard that thump I was sure wed collected you.

  The girl hurried toward Leah. I’m so sorry, I just didn’t see you, the sun…

  The guy sauntered after her. She wanted to listen to Triple J, I wanted Fox FM, and the next moment—

  I took my eyes off the road for just a second, honest, the girl said.

  She was now standing directly in front of Leah, full of the beat of strong emotions: excitement, relief, curiosity. She wore tight red jeans, slim-line lace-up ankle boots, a white T-shirt that showed the tops of her flushed breasts. She was good-looking in a careless way, as if she sought and found risky distractions in lifelike almost running down hitchhikersbut got bored easily. She removed her dark glasses and clamped the frames on top of her head, revealing grey-green eyes that were more amused than apologetic.

  Your lucky day, she said, barely suppressing her laughter.

  For me, maybe, Leah said, eyeing the backpack, tumbled in the dust.

  Well buy you a new one, no probs, the guy said.

  He stood by his girlfriend and put his arm around her waist until they were joined at the hip and grinning good-naturedly. Leah assessed the guy rapidly: early twenties, dark hair cropped short and dyed purple at the tips, earring, eyebrow stud, jaws chomping away on a stick of gum. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black studded belt, black shoes as chunky as blocks of carved wood.

  There was a moment of silence and then the girl said, Wherere you headed?

  Leah shrugged. Wherever the road takes me.

  If shed read these two correctly, they would heartily approve of an unconventional life. Shed never have given that answer to a straight-looking person. Straight people always had specific destinations.

  Well, get in, the guy said. Hed stopped chewing long enough to absorb Leah’s answer, now was chewing hard again. Least we can do for you.

  The girl grabbed Leah. Yeah, come with us, she said, swinging Leah’s arm as if delighted with her, with herself, with life. For the ride of a lifetime, she said, giggling.

  Leah disengaged, crossed to her pack, and dusted it off. The flap was torn, a buckle snapped in two, but it was otherwise intact. Couldve been worse, she said.

  Great, the guy said. Hop in the front. Ill drive.

  The girl sashayed at her boyfriend, poking him. Yeah, right, put me in the back so I cant listen to Triple J.

  They guy gaped at her in mock dismay. Who, me?

  She waggled herself at him. Thats right, big boy.

  It was all for Leah’s benefit, as if they were in love with being lovers and believed the old saying that the world loves a lover. But all it did was make them look younger, and in ordinary circumstances shed have avoided them like the plague. Right now she needed them.

  A few minutes later they were leaving the state forest and heading into a region of low hills and grazing land. Leah, in the passenger seat, felt insulated from the world and settled back, feeling more secure than she had for days. Then she felt fingers reach around from the back seat and rest on her shoulder, and a soft voice breathed warmly in her ear, I’m Tess, this is Mitch.

  Leah.

  Glad to know ya, Mitch said. Hed stopped chewing for the introductions, now he was chewing again.

  Leah sensed, without turning around, that Tess was perched on the edge of her seat and leaning into the gap between the two front seats as if she couldn’t bear to be left out of anything. Her fingers rubbed up and down on Leah’s upper arm. There was nothing overtly sexual about it: she probably touched everybody. Leah liked it. It was oddly comforting, and she wondered idly if Tess was used to such simple expressions of warmth and friendliness, or was in need of them. Her own upbringing had been loving, but expressed remotely and formally, and she envied Tess’s easy, open sense of comfort with her body and her surroundings.

  What have I become? Leah thought. Wary, watchful and ready to run…

  She shook off the thoughts. Nice wheels, Mitch.

  Yep.

  Mitch snapped forward suddenly and stabbed at the radio. There seemed to be six speakers in the car and it filled with sound, Mitch jerking like a robot at the wheel.

  Not that crap! Tess shouted. Turn it off!

  Leah turned around to grin at Tess, who had flung herself back into the corner, mouth pouting. Tess caught Leah’s gaze and rolled her eyes. She was full of signals and responses, as if her body reflected exactly every thought in her head. It was appealing, and Tess was no doubt accustomed to being seen as cute, but Leah wondered how appealing the cuteness would be after a few days.

  She settled deeper into her seat and looked out at the world in the queer half-light of dusk, thinking about Mitch, Tess, and the car. A lot of car for a young guy. A lot of money. You had to wonder where it all came from. There was something hyper about Mitch. Maybe he was on uppers.

  The road climbed and the motion of the car would have encouraged sleep if not for the head-banging music. A guard rail slipped by Leah’s window and she looked down into a shallow gully and a creek a
nd weeping willows. There was something manicured about the setting, as though people picnicked there, and Leah guessed there was a town nearby. The shadows were long now.

  Then she saw a sign: Prospect 3 km. Theres a town up ahead. If theres a campground or a caravan park Ill

  There was a harsh smack of metal against metal and the big car swerved violently. Leah grabbed the dash with both hands. Beside her Mitch was fighting to keep the car stable. Behind them Tess shrieked and ducked low in her seat. Then another thumping sensation and at once the Monaro jerked again and Leah heard the tyre disintegrate and punch around inside the wheel arch.

  She peered back through the rear window. A Range Rover was hard on them, slightly off to one side, as if preparing to ram them again. A shotgun was trained on them from the passenger seat. Suddenly Mitch lost control and the Monaro tore itself open along the guard rail for a few metres before hitting a stanchion and plunging through the rail. Mitch sat as if paralysed and Leah grabbed at the wheel in an effort to steer down the bank, feeling a jerk that almost snapped her wrist, and then they were tumbling about inside the car as it rolled.

  In the hiss and ticking and awful stillness a minute later, Leah thought fire, and unstrapped her seatbelt. The Monaro was on its side and she couldn’t avoid trampling Mitch as she freed herself. The car groaned and settled at a crazier angle. Mitch was clearly dead, his neck broken. Tess was sobbing. Leah reached through, released the younger womans seatbelt and pulled her into the front before kicking out the windscreen, which peeled away like stiff cardboard. The Monaro protested again. Leah pushed Tess through the gap and slipped out after her, then grabbed her arm to haul her a safe distance from the car. She could smell fuel. She could smell heat rising, seeking the fumes and ignition.

  But Tess broke away from her and ran back to the car.

  Tess, don’t!

  Tess ignored her, ran sobbing for the boot, which had sprung open during the crash. There was a soft whump of superheated petrol. Leah began to dash toward the car, just as Tess recoiled from it and ran back toward her, lugging a leather daypack and a small weekender bag on a strap.

  In the lick of the flames then, Leah saw Tess grin, as if she were filled with a lust for life again, her tears forgotten. But beyond her, high above the burning car, the Range Rover was stationary, the driver and passenger watching. Then both men got out and began to ease purposefully through the twisted guardrail and down the slope.

  How did they find me? Leah thought, running with Tess at full tilt through the long grass and tricky shadows.

  chapter 4

  Leah needed a refuge, a safe place where she could rest and do something about changing her face again. Somewhere with a radio, so she could monitor the news. Somewhere big enough to hide Tess, too, for the girl was caught up in this awful mess now.

  But the country towns shed passed through today had been too small to provide that sort of cover. Nervy, suspicious places, wary of strangers. Would Prospect be any different? Would she encounter a cop like Drew in this town? Had Drew seen her in Tiverton and passed the word on?

  She ran with Tess along the edge of the creek and they arrived at Prospect just as the streetlights were coming on. The first indications were favourable: motels, small businesses and flashing neon along the main street, with a sprawl of ugly new houses and flats at either end. There was even a mall. The town hall was as big as any shed seen in the suburbs of Melbourne.

  When she saw the Range Rover prowling along the main street she pulled Tess into the shadows and watched until it had gone, and only then did she notice Tess’s condition. The younger woman was listless, unfocused, and Leah felt a pang of guilt and pity. Look, I’m really sorry about your friend, but we couldn’t stick around back there.

  Tess made an effort, blinking, throwing off her vagueness. I know.

  Those men were

  They would have killed us, Tess said vehemently. I’m sorry I got you into this mess.

  Got me into it? I got you into it.

  Tess shook her head. A teenager skated past, drifting in lazy S shapes along the footpath, trailing the odours of fish and chips after him. I knew they’d catch up to us.

  I don’t understand. Those men

  It doesn’t matter, Tess said, her face and body shutting down. Lets just get away from here.

  Ill take you to the police station if you like, but I wont go in.

  Tess shuddered. No. God no.

  It seems we both have reasons not to bring in the cops, Leah thought.

  I’m sorry about Mitch, she said again.

  Tess choked down a couple of sobs, then heaved a sigh. I knew it couldn’t last, but it was exciting while it did, she said, as if putting the very recent past behind her. Leah didn’t pursue it. Tess had maybe seen too many made-for-TV movies and had cast herself in this one, inventing the dialogue as she went along. She was seeing everything that happened as her story, her drama, when Leah knew damn well that the men in the Range Rover were not interested in a couple of drippy teenage lovers. Those men were after revenge.

  It was dark before Leah found somewhere for them to spend the night. She didn’t want to stay in a house a house would mean curious neighbours. There are also neighbours in blocks of flats, but they tend to come and go and expect others to come and go. She didn’t expect anyone to ask her what her business was in this row of down-at-heel flats in a back street behind the town mall.

  There had been lights showing in most of the flats in the first block, and all had empty letterboxes. Shed hurried Tess along to the next block. Flats 2 and 6 had not claimed their letters yet. She rejected Flat 2 when she heard raised voices behind the door. They climbed the stairs to Flat 6, where she listened for half a minute, knocked on the door and listened again. Silence.

  How are we going to get in?

  Key, I hope, Leah said.

  She ran her hand along the top of the door surround, finding dust. She glanced around. There was a wrought-iron potplant stand nearby. The key was under a white stone at the base of a dying fern. She opened the door and they slipped inside.

  There was no one home but the place felt lived in. Then she saw a movement in the corner. It was a cat, stretching awake in a basket on the floor.

  They let themselves out quickly and walked down the stairs and along to a single-storey block of four flats in the next street. These Leah rejected immediately. According to a sign by the driveway entrance, the building was let to elderly parishioners of the Uniting Church, who were more likely than not to be at home.

  Their luck improved at the next block of flats. The letterbox for Flat 4 was crammed with junk mail. Leah led the way up to the second landing and tried the door. When no one answered her knock, she searched for the key, finding it on top of a fuse box in the hallway. She opened the door and they went in. This time there were no pets or signs that people had been there recently. The place felt as if it had been empty for several days. The rooms were tidy. The refrigerator had been switched off and the door left ajar. The kitchen tidy was empty and clean.

  She examined the bedroom and the bathroom. The clothing, jewelery and cosmetics indicated that a youngish man and woman lived there.

  Good. My pack was burnt up in the car. All Ive got is my mobile phone and the clothes I’m wearing. She also had her $5000, but wasn’t about to tell Tess that.

  Ive got spare undies and T-shirts if you need them, Tess said, dropping her weekender bag to the carpet but continuing to clutch her leather daypack in one hand. Were about the same size.

  Thanks.

  Excuse me, Tess said, pushing past Leah to the bathroom. She looked weepy, agitated, her face streaked with misery, her jeans grimy.

  Leah made a second sweep of the flat, concentrating on the kitchen. There was a calendar pinned to a cabinet door above the sink. Notes had been scribbled in the blank spaces under some of the dates. Leave for Noosa had been written under a date at the beginning of the month and a bold red line cancelled the next two weeks. At
the end were the words arrive home.

  Tess reappeared, calmer now, visibly making an effort. She was faintly water-splashed and had combed her hair. How long are we staying?

  Leah showed her the calendar. We’ve got the place for a week if we want it. She hoped that a spare key hadn’t been given to friends or relatives. She hoped the weather was fine in Queensland. But we have to be super quiet and unobtrusive, and ready to quit the place at a moments notice. We don’t want curious neighbours knocking on the door. If they do, we act as if we belong here; were friends looking after the place for a few days. Okay?

  You’re the boss.

  Leah wanted Tess to be more alert than that, but let it go. You can have the bed. Ill sleep on the sofa.

  Can we eat? I’m starving.

  This is weird, Leah thought. Mitch has just been murdered, killers are after us, and Tess is starving. I feel as if I could jump out of my skin, and this girl has made a remarkable recovery. Clearly her bond with Mitch hadn’t been that strong, but still…

  First things first, Leah said.

  There was a radio next to the toaster on the kitchen bench. She tuned it to a regional station of the ABC, the volume low, and they listened to the news. Mitch was on last, just before sport and weather, and the item took less than ten seconds: a young man killed in a single-vehicle accident when his car had run off the road near Prospect and caught fire. Police were appealing for witnesses.

  Leah glanced keenly at Tess, who stared at the floor. You okay?

  Tess nodded.

  Its none of my business but

  Youre right, its not.

  Fair enough, Leah said, searching the cupboards for something to eat.

  She opened a tin of spaghetti, spooned it onto two plates and ate hers cold with a spoon. It had the consistency of glue. Tess gave her an appalled look and wrinkled her nose. If we heat anything, Leah explained, well release cooking smells that might alert the neighbours, and we don’t want that.

 

‹ Prev