by Anna Willett
Paige shrieked, scuttling backward on her hands and knees. She could feel the sludge on her palm, sticky and wet. Leaning back on her knees, she rubbed her hand on the fallen leaves. Finally daring to look, her palm was stained brown and smelt thick with decay. Her stomach lurched and she spent the next few minutes heaving up a mixture of water and chunks of bread.
When she managed to stop gagging, she spat and wiped her arm across her mouth. The smell of her hand set off another wave of nausea. Her stomach clenched and her eyes watered, but mercifully the vomiting subsided. Paige sat back, ignoring the crunching leaves under her weight, and tried not to think about whatever insects might be crawling just out of sight.
She closed her eyes and took three, deep, shuddering breaths. She had to keep it together, stay calm, even though her skin crawled and she had the urge to run screaming back to the house. It’s just a dead bird for Christ’s sake. Trying to stand, the movement set off waves of dizziness that made her head spin. She knew she couldn’t afford to risk another fall, if she hadn’t caught herself and landed on her hands and knees, her stomach would’ve hit the ground. What then? I’d have hurt my baby.
She drew her knees up as far as her belly would allow and lowered her head. Paige knew she should be moving, keeping her momentum going, but her body felt tired and sluggish. If she pushed any harder the baby would be the one to suffer. Trying to sort out the possibilities in her mind, she gave her head a shake. If she didn’t hurry, Lizzy would notice her absence and … Her thinking faltered. What would Lizzy do? Take it out on Hal. Hadn’t she known all along that’s what might happen?
It seemed crazy, but she pictured Lizzy smashing that egg on Soona’s forehead. The action so sudden and cruel, it was scary. Scary. That’s the word that best described Lizzy. You saw it the minute she stopped the car, a small voice in her head whispered. Yes, Paige had seen it, but that little spark of recognition, the feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you you’re in danger, was no match for panic and desperation. So she’d pushed the warning voice aside and grasped onto the offer of help. She thought of a line from an old movie, something about relying on the kindness of strangers. Whoever thought of that never met Lizzy Hatcher.
A bird squawked above. Paige lifted her head to a lone galah sitting in the low branches of a silver gum. It ruffled its grey and pink feathers and let out another cry. She wondered if it called to its dead mate. Her vision blurred with tears until the bird became no more than a fuzzy pink blob. The mournful sound of its cry touched her soul, and all the frustration and fear tumbled out in jagged sobs.
Eventually the tears subsided and Paige climbed to her feet. Hal depended on her to bring help, and she would do it if she had to walk all day. She checked left and could still see the edge of the road. Up ahead, the bush appeared dense and impenetrable, she’d have to go farther away from the road if she hoped to get through. Shrugging deeper into her jacket, Paige veered to the right.
Within minutes she came to a clearing, thick yellowish grass and wild flowers blanketed the ground, but the spikey shrubs and crouching trees were less tightly packed. The sun lit up the area like a spotlight, and for a moment, Paige paused and drank it in. Walking seemed blessedly easier now and the way was more direct. A tendril of worry crept into her mind, what if I’ve strayed too far from the road? The thought of being in the bush, in the dark, sent a flutter of panic through her. She decided to walk until she reached a cluster of grass trees that looked to be a few hundred metres ahead, and then she’d head back to the left.
When Paige approached the trees, she noticed something grey just beyond them. Not the washed-out grey of dead branches, but something metallic winking in the light. She pushed on past the grass trees and caught a whiff of peppermint. Her heart beat a little faster and she tried to pick up her pace. Wattle trees blocked her path so she pushed around to the right where she found a gap in the scrub. She had to lift her knees up and hop over some low hanging fronds. As she stumbled free, she found the metallic object that had caught her attention – the rim of a sagging cyclone wire-fence, and behind it what she knew must be the back of the cheese factory.
Paige grabbed the edge of the fence and squeezed, just to make sure it was real. She gave a little cry of triumph and then laughed at her own delight. I made it, I got here. The nightmare’s nearly over. If she’d had the energy, she would’ve danced. Instead she clambered over the fence that now sagged to knee-level, and headed around the building.
Her pulse raced, she felt breathless, but energised. Paige wiped her forehead with her sleeve and followed the line of the building. The smell of peppermint was stronger now. She pictured the Ford standing under the trees with the doors open, their suitcases piled around the gaping hatch. For a split second she actually saw it. The burnt orange paintwork glittering under the sun’s rays. The blue Esky with the white top sitting on the ground, beads of moisture rolling down the plastic sides.
But the image in her mind became a trick of her imagination, the ghost of what should’ve been. She rounded the corner of the building and stared, mouth open, at the empty carpark. The car and everything in it were gone. The cluster of peppermint trees with their branches rustling in the wind stood sentry over a vacant lot.
“You fucking bitch,” Paige whispered and sunk to her knees.
Chapter Nine
“You’re only taking my lower leg,” Hal repeated and laughed, it caught in his throat and turned into a shriek.
He tried to sit up, but the restraints held his chest against the stretcher. He raised his head as high as his neck would allow and saw Lizzy draping restraints over his thighs. Before she had the chance to fasten them, Hal jack-knifed his unbroken leg and his knee hit her in the temple.
He heard the air puff out of her mouth before she stumbled and her hands flopped across his groin. He moved his wrist under the restraints and managed to grab a swatch of her hair. Lizzy made a guttural sound and stabbed her elbow down on his nuts. Pain seared up as if a live wire had been inserted in his abdomen. He gritted his teeth but held on.
He brought his knee up again and gave her another whack, this time on her cheek. He heard her grunt, the sound reminding him of an angry bull. All the while he was aware of a high pitched bleating and his panicked mind wondered if a whole farmyard was loose in the house. The thought seemed so crazy, he almost laughed.
The struggle felt like it lasted for hours when, in fact, not even a minute passed. Lizzy put to bed any fight Hal had left when she raised her fist and slammed it down on his broken leg. He actually heard the bones crunch, it was a queer sound, like seashells rattling in a bucket. His vision blackened and his back arched. He let go of her hair as his whole body enveloped in a cold shaft of pain almost exquisite in its intensity.
He felt a vague awareness. First of restraints being pulled tight over his thighs and then his unbroken leg. Then, something hard being slid under his lower body. A thin leather strap was fastened around his thigh and pulled tight enough to cut into his flesh. He wanted to struggle, but the waves of pain still battered his lower body.
“Don’t,” he heard himself beg. “Don’t cut me, please. Lizzy, please don’t.”
She made a clucking sound with her tongue and turned her back. He could still hear the bleating and then his gaze found the big, dark woman. She was flapping her hands near her head and staring at his legs.
“Please,” he croaked. “Don’t let her hurt me.”
Soona’s eyes flicked up and locked with his for less than a second before they drifted to the side. Hal saw the fear he felt reflected back at him.
Lizzy turned back holding a syringe. She must have a life time supply of those things. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“Now, you’re lucky I’m still going to give you this,” she said and waved the needle. “After the way you attacked me, I should just do without the pain relief.”
I bet you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? You crazy bitch. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, but d
on’t cut me. I’m begging you Lizzy, don’t do this.” He tried to sound calm and reasonable around his sobs.
“You’ll thank me in the long run.” She spoke in a distracted way, as if answering an inquisitive child.
She walked around the trolley and injected something into his leg. “That’s a local,” she said and tapped him on the calf. “Can you feel that?”
“Yes. Yes, I can. His words came out in a shaky whoosh.
She gave a little laugh and shook her head. Hal wished he was in on the joke because from his point of view there was nothing funny about what the looney with the needle planned to do. Even as he begged and cried, he could see she would complete the job she’d set out to do. Lizzy was one of those “always finish what you start” sort of girls. If she said she was going to cut your leg off, well, you’d better get yourself a good prosthetic because come hell or high water, your leg was coming off.
“Soona,” Lizzy snapped. “Help me turn this trolley around. I want his leg near the instruments.”
Soona’s bleating quietened to weak mewling. She took the head of the trolley and spun it towards the door. Hal watched a large brown stain on the ceiling twirl and spotted a cobweb dangling from a bare bulb.
Lizzy picked up a large brown bottle and some gauze. A strong smell of iodine bathed the room, but Hal couldn’t feel anything on his leg. That’s a good thing. Then a feeling of complete understanding and utter terror. Not the horror movie kind, where the girl screams and covers her mouth, but the deep, bone-shaking punch-in-the-guts that steals your voice and loosens your bowls.
Lizzy moved back to the trolley, when she turned around she held the hacksaw. “That local I gave you will help, but,” she paused. “I’m not gonna lie, it won’t do a lot once I get down to the bone.” The empty look in her eyes panicked him more than the evil looking hacksaw.
“N- N- No,” Hal managed around chattering teeth. But Lizzy’s head was already bent over his legs, her elbow moving back and forth.
Hal’s eyes were wide, so wide it felt like they might burst from their sockets. He stared at the ceiling, focusing on the brown patch. He could hear a wet slopping sound and then a slow drip. His mind pulled him in all directions, but one insane thought kept circling, she didn’t even wash her fucking hands.
When the hacksaw hit bone, all coherent thought ceased and Hal screamed. His screams piled on top of each other until blessed darkness rose up and took him.
Chapter Ten
A dark stain was all that remained of the snake. The rest carried off by birds no doubt. Paige ran the toe of her battered tennis shoe over the bloody mark – the only evidence that she and Hal had ever been there. The Silver Island Cheese factory loomed just as it had the day before, at odds with the bucolic setting.
Paige wandered over to the loading dock and sat down. She leaned back, her palms flat on the cool concrete, and stared at the spot where the Ford had been. It was easy to imagine Lizzy out here during the night, huffing and puffing, her large rear end pointing skywards while she fitted the spare tyre. At first, Paige had felt an overwhelming rage towards the woman, so much so she’d considered jogging back to the house and attacking her.
She’d even pictured the scene: she’d walk into the kitchen, pick up a pan, the heavy cast iron job she’d seen Lizzy use to fry eggs. Eggs! That got her blood boiling. She’d use a little trick Lizzy taught her and smack her in the forehead with the old pan. Bamb! But that had been half an hour ago and the energy that came with the rage quickly ebbed, leaving her exhausted and helpless.
Instead of swearing and imagining revenge scenarios, Paige tried to think through her options. She could try to walk back to the freeway or on to the roadhouse. If she had water, she could probably make it. If I go slowly and stay on the road. She looked down at her ankles, they were twice their normal size and an unhealthy scarlet.
“Bloody hell,” she whispered, leaning forward and dropping her head into her hands. It was too far to go back, and too far to go forward. Where did that leave her? Up shit creek.
The light faded as dark shadows swallowed the carpark and loading bay. Paige checked the time. Four-thirty. She’d been gone for hours. She thought of Hal, probably waiting to hear the sound of approaching sirens coming to take him to hospital. Then inevitably, her thoughts turned to Lizzy. Now what? She most certainly would know Paige was gone. Would she do something to Hal? Paige pushed the thought from her mind. If she meant to hurt him, she wouldn’t be trying so desperately to keep him alive.
The thought gave her some comfort. Lizzy had taken care of his wounds. She’d given him medication for the pain. Why would she do all that if she wanted to hurt him? Hurting Hal made no sense. She put her hand on her belly and stretched her back. Nothing about Lizzy’s actions made sense but she couldn’t take the chance that Hal might be in danger. She’d have to walk back to Mable House. I’ll find another way.
Paige got to her feet and winced at the throbbing in her ankles. She looked around the carpark one last time as if hoping the Ford would magically appear. Then she headed for the road; it would be easier than going through the bush. She heard a kookaburra winding up into a full blown laugh. As she headed back towards her captor, she was sure the bird was laughing at her.
Paige rounded the corner and walked along the turn-off for Mable House. Moving slowly, like an old lady, it took her twenty minutes to get even that far. The sound of her breathing came out loud and laboured, it filled her ears eclipsing all other noises. Not until the Holden bared down on her did she become aware of the rumbling engine.
The pale green ute veered over to the side of the road and came to a stop about ten meters ahead of Paige. She could see Lizzy in the cab, her broad shoulders hulking over the steering wheel. The woman made no move to get out.
* * *
The passenger door opened with a protesting squeal. Lizzy’s eyes remained fixed ahead, she barely acknowledged Paige until the door closed behind her.
“Hal’s taken a turn for the worse,” she said, her bulbous grey eyes roving over Paige’s face and body.
All the things Paige planned to say and do were forgotten. “What do you mean?” She asked, terrified of the answer.
Lizzy took her time. She crunched through the gears and performed a text book three-point turn. “The bite was infected after all.” She didn’t look at Paige as she spoke, keeping her eyes on the road. “I did what I could to stabilise him.”
When Paige heard herself speak, her voice sounded hoarse. “What do you mean stabilise?” What have you done?
Lizzy let out a long sigh as if Paige’s questions were tiresome. “I’ve done what I can to combat the infection.” She shrugged. “Now we’ll just have to wait and see how he goes.” Another pause. “Either he’ll come good or he won’t.”
Paige closed her eyes and balled her fingers into fists. She knew she shouldn’t antagonise the woman, provoking her would only put her and Hal in a worse position. But she had to ask. Whatever the outcome, at least there’d be no more pretending.
“Drive me to the roadhouse?” Paige asked, her tone flat and truculent.
For the first time since she’d mentioned Hal, Lizzy looked over at her. The look in her eyes made Paige’s skin crawl; a look of sly pleasure. Paige got the feeling she had finally got a good look at the real Lizzy Hatcher.
“Let’s just worry about one thing at a time,” Lizzy said, and looked back at the road.
* * *
This time, Lizzy parked the ute around the rear of the house, near the ramshackle outbuildings. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Paige sprang out of the cab and headed towards the back door. She could hear the woman behind her slamming the driver’s door. Paige wondered if Lizzy would try to stop her entering the house or seeing Hal. If she did, then Paige decided, she’d hit the woman in the head with the frying pan. She’d do whatever it took to get to Hal.
To Paige’s surprise, Lizzy didn’t seem to be following her. When Paige entered the kitchen, she p
aused and looked back through the screen door. Lizzy headed away from the house and towards the sheds.
Paige wanted to rush through the drawing room and up the stairs, but she made herself stop at the sink. She forced herself to slow down and think of the baby. She felt a wave of light-headedness and knew she couldn’t go much longer without a drink. Paige grabbed a glass from the draining board and filled it under the tap. The water was tepid, but it tasted wonderful to her parched throat. Next time I’ll take water. The thought took her by surprise. She refilled the glass and nodded to herself. Yes, there will be a next time. I’ll find a way to get us out of this mess.
* * *
When Paige reached Hal’s room, the door was closed and the air on the third floor redolent with an unpleasant smell. Paige couldn’t place it – somehow heavy and metallic at the same time. It put her teeth on edge and made her uneasy. She rubbed her damp palm on the front of her dress and grabbed the battered brass knob.
The first thing that struck her was Hal’s breathing; it sounded deep and even, as though he were asleep. The sun had disappeared and darkness blanketed the house. Without turning on the light, it was difficult to make out his face. She grabbed the phone from her bra and switched on the light. A cloud of soft blue illuminated the bed. Hal’s eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open.
Paige took a step closer and sat down beside him. She put her hand on his brow to feel for a fever and was alarmed by how cool he felt. She noticed the tube running from his arm up to the drip and wondered if Lizzy was giving him antibiotics. In the glow of the phone light, his skin looked strange, almost bleached of colour. Paige leaned closer and put her cheek against his.
She felt the need to be close to him so strongly it almost overwhelmed her. Since this nightmare began, it seemed like something had yanked him away from her by forces beyond her control. Even now, he seemed changed, as if something about him had been snatched away.
